Trigger warning: discusses eating disorders, patient treatment, poor body image and disordered eating
A few weeks ago, I ate out for lunch. That night, my boyfriend came home, looked in the empty fridge, and said, “We could order a takeaway?” A simple and banal proposal – but not for me. Two restaurant meals in one day? It was all I could think about. Not finding a good enough reason to say no, I ended up agreeing – while my mind continued to spin. How many calories? Would it show on the scale? What would I eat tomorrow to make up for this? Would I have time for a workout?
Questions like these have relentlessly dogged my life. I grew up with Kate Moss positioned as the ultimate icon, ‘heroin chic’ dominating fashion trends and ‘one-size-fits-all’ (so long as that ‘one size’ is extremely slender) clothes, all of which were unhealthy and high-pressure standards to live up to.
During secondary school, I ran almost every day in an attempt to outpace my thoughts relating to food, weight and calorie deficits, even on Christmas (in fact, especially around Christmas, with its endless family gatherings). Later on, when studying at med school, I tracked every morsel I ate and burned, relying on the scale to dictate whether or not I’m slim ‘enough’.
Up until my mid-twenties, I believed that this way of thinking, of living, was completely normal. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing unusual in my body dissatisfaction. Then, as part of my psychiatry residency, when I was 26, I worked with patients affected by eating disorders. For the first time, I found myself on the other side: I was the one pushing for someone to consume an extra bite of pasta, not the one refusing it.
I wasn’t as ill as my patients were. I don’t want to be as thin as possible, I’ve never starved my body to the point of near-death, and I’ve never been medically underweight. Unlike in eating disorders, there is no distortion for me – no discrepancy between how I see myself and how others see me. I can eat two pizzas in a row, despite all my spinning thoughts. But still I couldn’t deny that my struggle with chronic body dissatisfaction was nonetheless similar to my patients’ in other ways.
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This middleground is what psychiatrists are terming the ‘grey zone of eating disorders’. A place unseen by many doctors, undiagnosed by manuals, and something socially accepted – worse, actually, something often socially encouraged. We’re surrounded by stories of people who take GLP-1 drugs to lose weight, ads for AI weight-loss apps, some of which turn calorie tracking into a hunger-inducing game, and slimmer-than-ever models, according to Vogue Business’ 2026 inclusivity report.
Dr. Benedetta Conio, a psychiatrist who directs an outpatient nutrition clinic, says that, in her experience, the grey zone is where a lot of women find themselves. “There are women with anorexia,” she says, “then there is a [smaller] percentage who don’t care about their weight,” and then there is everyone else: “Women who feel the social pressure and suffer under it, but never enough to be diagnosed.” The NHS states that 52% of women are actively trying to lose weight right now, and the Mental Health Foundation’s recent findings show that many of us are also struggling with poor self-esteem; the charity states 45% of women feel ‘depressed’ because of their body image and just 19% are ‘satisfied’ with their physique.
Conio explains that we often enter the grey zone following in our mothers’ footsteps. Family history is the first pattern we absorb, and all my life, I've watched the women in my own family wrestle with the same habits I’ve long since adopted: dieting, weigh-ins, calorie counting. I’ve seen my mother weigh herself, then sigh with relief, or with disappointment. My grandmother, 89, still does the same.
Dr. Simone Grey, a psychologist and clinical nutritionist specialising in eating disorders, points out that even if you didn’t pick up on this perspective inside the home, our outer world, the culture at large – from social media debates about the Wicked cast’s appearance tothe recent shift of seemingly rejecting body positivity in favour of a return to idealising thinness – is hard to ignore.
According to Grey, to escape this miserable cycle, we need to be honest with ourselves and acknowledge that we have a problem. We need to give a name to what’s going on, even if it’s just ‘the grey zone’. The psychologist also suggests engaging in communities where we can talk about selfhood and ask ourselves some questions: “If this is a place that I'm going to stay for the rest of my life, what would this cost me? To what degree do I think I would have chosen this for my best friend or my child?”
The most important thing is that you know you’re deserving of help, says Umairah Malik, Beat’s Research, Advocacy and Engagement Manager. “If your thoughts or behaviour around food or weight cause you concern, we’d urge you to contact your GP or our Helpline. It’s important to get help as soon as you start to notice symptoms because early intervention gives people the best chance at recovery.”
Getting older doesn’t necessarily mean you automatically start to love your body, but you may start to understand that some things in life matter more than others – like saying ‘yes’ to a pizza with someone I love. I’ve also gotten rid of my scale; I won’t let it be my dictator anymore. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.
If you’re worried about your own or someone else’s health, you can contact Beat, the UK’s eating disorder charity on 0808 801 0677 or beateatingdisorders.org.uk
