Giving up the religion of thinness for a more compassionate path
Dear Readers,
Those of you who have lived with an eating disorder for any length of time, either your child’s, your own, or both, know how all-consuming it can be. The disorder can take over your life to the point that you can barely think of anything else; your entire life becomes about serving your disorder. Author Michelle M. Lelwica, ThD, calls this “The Religion of Thinness,” which is also the title of her latest book, subtitled “Satisfying the Spiritual Hungers behind Women’s Obsession with Food and Weight.”
Lelwica is uniquely qualified to write about the spiritual dimension of eating disorders since she is a professor of religion at Concordia College in Minnesota as well as a former anorexic and bulimic. She believes that “our obsessions with eating and weight mask the deeper needs of our spirits” and are “a way to maintain peace, order, and security in a world that seems out of control.” The religion of thinness has its own icons and symbols (unrealistically thin models and actresses) and its own rituals (counting calories, daily workouts and weigh-ins). It promises moral superiority and its end goal is the “salvation” of being thin.
The Religion of Thinness teaches readers to see through the myth of thinness by becoming aware of the ways that the media and our culture, including esoteric offshoots such as “Pro-Ana” Web sites, are indoctrinating us into the religion of thinness. Her answer to this problem is a program of “cultural critique and spiritual growth” including lessons in media literacy and spiritual exercises promoting mindfulness and self-acceptance.
The religion of thinness is one that favors the wealthy, ruling class, Lelwica notes. The common association of thinness with wealth actually reflects social reality: studies show that the higher a woman’s household income, the lower her weight. Rich people, in other words, can afford the “thin lifestyle” by buying the services of personal trainers, live in chefs, spa visits, cosmetic surgery and fresh, nutritious foods (more expensive than calorie-dense but nutritionally lacking processed foods).
Of the various spiritual exercises that Lelwica offers, I liked one she calls “Touching Your Suffering: An Exercise in Mindfulness.” First the reader is given some exercises to bring her mind and senses fully into the present. Then she is encouraged to revisit a past food- or body-related experience that caused pain: a hurtful comment or a damaged relationship, for example. The idea is to recall the experience, to “sit” with it and accept it, practicing compassion toward oneself. The path to a new, healthier form of spirituality, Lelwica advises, lies in “befriending your demons,” treating yourself with compassion, and then extending that compassion to others who suffer.”
Take care,
Nancy