The Health and Healing Narrative

Promoting understanding between people and practitioners.

Living With an Eating Disorder in Midlife: Beyond Judgment and Stereotypes

By Shubhaa Forrest

CONTENT WARNING — This article contains first-person discussion of anorexia, eating disorder behaviours, weight change, calorie restriction, and the psychological impact of long-term illness. Some readers may find this content distressing. Please take care while reading and consider seeking support if this raises difficult feelings.

For support and practical guidance, you can also read our sister article on anorexia by clicking here, which offers resources and advice for those affected.


In 2017, I became part of a club with 1.25 million members: this is the number of people in the UK who have an eating disorder. It marked the beginning of a painful, dark and dangerous journey – a tunnel I am still in, hoping there will be light at the end of it. 

Putting aside the increasing physical, cognitive, and psychological side effects of 8 years living with anorexia, one of the toughest aspects of having an eating disorder is the constant battle against misunderstanding and judgment rooted in stereotypes. I want to believe that stereotypes are caused by a lack of awareness, so these are my personal arguments to refute some of the most common ones:

1) Anorexia is an obsession with being attractive due to media pressure.

Before 2017, I had never worried too much about my weight. I was a slightly overweight child, a curvy teenager, and in my adult years, I went through phases of curvy, chubby, overweight and back to curvy. Truth being told, I was never too worried about my looks or my weight, and had no self-image problems, no low self-esteem.

I enjoyed eating the things I liked and thought that a meal was an excuse for a nice dessert. If anybody had told me ten years ago that I would develop an eating disorder, I would have laughed in their face. 

2) Anorexia only affects teenagers.

I was officially diagnosed in 2018, although my first symptoms appeared in May 2017, when I was 45 years old. I am living proof that anorexia not only affects teenagers, nor adults who have suffered an eating disorder in their teenage years. Some studies suggest that the prevalence of eating disorders among middle-aged adults is between 10.8% and 15.7%.

3) You don’t look anorexic.

In 2016 I was 86 Kg (13 stone 7) and now I am 46 Kg (7 stone 3). If you met me before 2017 and saw me now, you would definitely say I have anorexia, but without that reference, you would probably think I am just slim.

But some signs are quite evident: I avoid any social interaction that involves food, I never go to a restaurant or café unless I have scrutinised their menu, I have this tendency to faint unless I eat something every 3.5 hours, and I have to be home at exactly the same times every day to eat my “safe food” – the few things I know are fat-free, low calorie, very filling, and guilt-free. 

4) But you do eat, don’t you? You are just a fussy eater.

My exact diagnosis is anorexia nervosa – restricting type, which means I avoid most foods and restrict my daily intake to 700 calories, including drinks. I calculate the calories in everything I eat, cook, bake and drink. For practical reasons, I designed a weekly meal plan that I repeat every week: the same breakfast, two lunch options and four dinner options. If, for whatever reason, I end up eating something different or something additional, the following day, I will overcompensate by cutting twice the number of calories I have overeaten. Am I a fussy eater?

Stereotypes are a hurdle for me and many others living with an eating disorder. I hope that sharing my experience will help change those preconceived ideas, because we need public support to challenge a healthcare system that often mirrors these same stereotypes more often than you would think – but that is a story for another day.


Editor’s note: Reflection on Shubhaa’s story

Shubhaa’s story is deeply personal and offers a rare insight into living with an eating disorder in midlife. By opening up about her own experiences, she shows just how isolating and challenging it can be, while also helping us see the person behind the illness. I want to thank Shubhaa for her courage in sharing her journey and hope her story encourages greater understanding, compassion, and support for anyone affected.

For more support, please see:


Shubhaa Forrest, born and bred in Spain, moved to the UK in 2014 to study a Master’s degree in Health Psychology. After a long career in corporate training, she has now found in Scotland’s Moray Firth the perfect location to settle and redirect her life to a healthier and less stressful career as a freelance journalist and fiction writer, whilst focusing on her recovery. 

She has kindly given us permission to share her story on the blog.

Leave a comment