Identity, autonomy and recovery: my story
Because I’m a trans man, people sometimes assume that my illness started because of dysphoria. This is understandable. I developed Anorexia as a teenager while on a waiting list for gender-affirming care, and recovered after receiving the care that I needed. I also had a period of what I would describe as “quasi-recovery” in the months before my top surgery, which was entirely motivated by the desire to be healthy enough to safely undergo the procedure. (Though my surgery went perfectly, this predictably did not work out long-term. I had to find new motivations post-op.) So it makes sense to me that people correlate those things.
I think there’s more to it than that, though. Transness means that my body is the subject of international political debate. The care that saved my life is controversial, and access to it is subject to the whims of MPs with no understanding of who trans people are and what we need. While on a twelve-month waiting list to even begin an assessment for gender dysphoria, I felt that I did not own my body. I felt that the state did. I joked with friends: “I suppose my body is a woman’s body. It belongs to someone named Victoria.” Under such conditions, behaviour that feels like asserting control of the body can be incredibly tempting. When you can’t have real control, you’ll settle for the illusion of it.
These days I consider myself “mostly recovered”, and I feel either good or neutral about my body most days. My biggest trigger, though, is news coverage of the so-called “trans debate.” The discussion is dominated by people who do not know what they are talking about. I know the statistics now. Trans people with eating disorders are significantly more likely to recover if they receive gender-affirming care. If our choices are taken away, the very human need for autonomy can push us into dangerous places. Places where we feel like we are making choices, even as those “choices” are driven by compulsion and fear.
For me, recovery has also been a process of reclaiming autonomy. Recovery allows me to enjoy life. I have the energy to study, to engage in my hobbies, to travel. My friends say I am more present. Is this because of my individual grit and hard work? Well, yes, but it’s also because I am the one in charge of my body now, not the government.
