Starving for Control: How I Hid My Anorexia Behind Leadership and Perfection

I was anorexic in college.
And no one knew.

Not my professors. Not my classmates. Not even most of my friends.

From the outside, I looked like I was thriving.
I was everywhere: on committees, in student government, organizing rallies, speaking up in class, and fighting for the causes I believed in. I was leading.

But behind the scenes, I was slowly disappearing.

The Drive to Be “Enough”

I had always struggled with my body image. I never felt like I fit the mold. I never felt pretty enough, thin enough, or “right” enough. In college, I made an unspoken decision. If I couldn’t change how I felt, maybe I could change how I looked.

So I started skipping meals. I told people I had already eaten or was too busy to grab food. I survived on coffee, diet soda, and the occasional piece of fruit. I exercised obsessively, often when no one was around. Frozen yogurt was my only indulgence, and even that came with guilt.

I didn’t call it anorexia. I didn’t realize I was starving myself.
I thought I was finally being disciplined. I thought I was doing what I had to do to be accepted.

But I was terrified. Terrified of food. Terrified of gaining weight.
Terrified of being seen and judged.

Leading on the Outside, Breaking on the Inside

I wasn’t trying to disappear.
I was trying to prove I mattered.

I wasn’t hiding in the shadows. I was front and center. I was active, vocal, and driven.
But that high achievement was a mask. It was a performance. It helped me hide the shame I carried about my body and my worth.

That’s what makes this so painful. The people who are suffering the most often look like they have it all together.

The Moment Everything Changed

It wasn’t rock bottom that saved me. It was two people. Jennifer and Meredith.

They noticed.
They listened closely.
They didn’t believe the “I’m fine” routine.

They sat me down, told me the truth, and walked me into UNC Health Services.

They sat with me while I cried.

They were beside me when a counselor said the words I hadn’t dared to: eating disorder.

That moment broke something open.

I had to stop pretending. I had to stop performing. I had to face the truth. I was sick, scared, and not in control at all.

Recovery, Redefined

Healing from anorexia did not happen overnight.
It was slow, painful, and deeply humbling.

I had to unlearn everything I thought I knew about food. About control. About self-worth.

I had to learn that nourishment is not something we earn.
It is something we deserve.

I had to look at the perfectionism I had been praised for and see how it was hurting me.
The same drive, ambition, and discipline that helped me lead were becoming weapons against myself when fueled by shame and fear.

Recovery gave me a new way to live. Not from achievement or approval, but from wholeness.

Redefining Leadership

This experience changed the way I lead and live.
It taught me that real leadership does not come from perfection. It comes from presence.

We do not lead best when we pretend to have it all together.
We lead best when we are honest. Real. Grounded.

We lead best when we rise, even in the mess.

If you are a high-achiever who feels like they are barely holding it together, I want you to know this. You are not alone. You do not have to hide behind success. You do not have to earn your worth by shrinking or striving.

You are already enough.

If You’re Struggling

Maybe you are skipping meals and calling it discipline.
Maybe you are achieving outwardly while suffering silently.
Maybe you are hiding your pain behind your performance.

If this is you, please hear me.
There is help. There is hope. There is healing.

You do not have to do this alone.
And you do not have to keep pretending you are fine.

You are worthy of nourishment.
You are worthy of love.
You are worthy of rising.

Let’s do it together.

With compassion and truth,
Rashmi