Myth: People With Anorexia Don’t go to Restaurants

Last week, my daughter and I were sharing a meal in Pizza Express when I noticed a familiar face at the table next to ours. Normally I don’t bother famous people when they’re trying to get on with their lives, but this particular celeb was not only a heart-throb for ladies of a certain age who used to watch too much daytime TV but he’s also an expert on health. Before I knew it, I’d set down my knife and fork and wandered over.

“Um, excuse me, I am sorry to bother you, but don’t I know you from somewhere?” I ventured.

“Indeed you do, madam. TV’s Dr Hilary Jones at your service — ice dancer extraordinaire, author of seven books, ‘Pandemic Pinup’ according the The Sun, and, of course, ‘passionate about medical things’ (that last bit’s a quote from my website). Just partaking in some dough balls and a Sloppy Giussepe. Classic. ”

Did he just wink? Never mind.

“I like to come to this place because normally you can go unnoticed by the public,” he whispered, “but you’ve only gone and spotted me. It’s okay, I’m happy to oblige if you’d like an autograph? Or perhaps a selfie?”

“Um, look, I’m sorry to bother you like this. I should leave you to your meal-”

“That’s quite all right. As long as you don’t ask for medical advice, of course. I’d have to charge for that.”

Boyish smile.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t dream of it! I’m just here with my daughter.” I gestured to the next table, where my firstborn sat scowling and rolling her eyes all at the same time. “It’s difficult for her to eat out,” I continued, lowering my voice, “because she has anorexia nervosa.”

Dr Hilary’s expression turned to puzzlement.

“Anorexia? No, no, she can’t have anorexia. You see, people with anorexia don’t go to restaurants. They don’t enjoy food. I mean, they don’t even eat really do they, so why would they eat out?”

He shrugged.

“Um, well we’re here, so-”

“No, no, no. Look, you must have got it wrong. Trust me, I am a doctor so I know a bit more about ‘medical things’ than you do. Unless, of course, you’re also a doctor?”

“I am not.”

“Well, your daughter doesn’t have anorexia, I can assure you. In fact, I can tell that just by looking at her to be honest. She’s nowhere near thin enough.”

“Well, in fact, not everyone with anorexia has a low BMI. You can’t tell someone has it by the way they look. Surely you don’t think-”

“Oh, you can, believe me. They’re all skeletal and pale. Clothes hanging off them. Awful! Your daughter’s nowhere near that. Stop worrying. Probably just likes to watch her weight. Plenty of vegetables, I expect. All the kids are vegan nowadays, aren’t they?”

Dr Hilary gestures for me to come closer. “The thing is, you might not know this but anorexia is all about control. People with anorexia are all extremely controlling. I bet your daughter’s not like that. She looks quite nice. And most kids with anorexia want to look like supermodels, of course. I blame Instagram. Never had a problem with all these eating disorders years ago.”

“What?-”

“In fact, to be really honest with you, I blame the parents. Must have a really messed up family life to want to starve yourself, mustn’t you?”

“Er-”

“Oh, of course, I’m not talking about you. After all, your daughter doesn’t have anorexia does she? She can’t have. Wouldn’t be here, in a restaurant, if she had, would she?”

Okay, I’ll be honest, the above conversation didn’t really happen. The only bits that are true are that I did go to a restaurant last week with my daughter and she does have anorexia nervosa. (Oh, and that quote from the good doc’s website…) The fact that my daughter ate in a restaurant would probably come as a surprise to Dr Hilary Jones because in a conversation on Good Morning Britain around calories on menus, the TV doc said that “people with the most serious eating disorder, anorexia, don’t go to restaurants.”

This idea is so bizarre that I hadn’t thought of writing it as a myth until Dr Hilary made his pronouncement. I mean, yes, of course food is a huge and difficult issue for people who have anorexia, but people with anorexia are people too! Like anyone, they will go to restaurants for all sorts of reasons. Food is about so much more than fuel, after all. And we share meals in restaurants for all kinds of events — birthdays, anniversaries, leaving dos, work parties — and for no reason in particular, just to enjoy each other’s company or because we’re away from home and need to eat somewhere.

The idea that people with anorexia won’t participate in any of these events, or don’t need to use restaurants for practical reasons, is frankly dehumanising and just plain wrong. My daughter and I met in a restaurant because we had limited time to spend together and we both needed to eat. We are also both passionate about food, believe it or not. Prior to the illness, our family loved nothing more than to sit round a table, enjoy a good meal and chat. Yes, it’s harder now. But my daughter is the same person that she was then. She still likes to try different flavours and types of food. It just all comes with a lot more anxiety now.

Eating in restaurants can also be an important part of recovery. Challenging yourself to eat somewhere different, where you haven’t been in control of every element of the meal, is really important for someone who is trying to climb out of the abyss of a restrictive eating disorder. That’s not to say that it’s easy. It can be stressful and create immense anxiety. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it, or that you should be excluded — or indeed exclude yourself — because of an ill-advised new regulation,

On 6 April a new law came into force in the UK which states that restaurants with employees over 250 have to display the calories in every dish and soft drink along with a statement about the recommended daily calories for an adult (which is, of course, completely irrelevant to someone in recovery from malnutrition. Believe me, you should be eating way more than that!)

This legislation has been met with consternation and outrage by people with eating disorders, their families and mental health charities alike. I too am worried, but perhaps for a slightly different reason.

Yes, I think it’s a daft idea that will ultimately do nothing positive. But to broadcast the message, as many campaigners and charities have been doing, that: calorie labels harm people with anorexia, is ultimately counterproductive. 

A well-meaning person might say, ‘How can people with AN be expected to recover if we keep shoving calorie counts, diet plans and skinny models in their faces?’ But somebody with anorexia might hear: ‘As long as there are calorie counts on menus, diet plans in magazines and skinny models in advertisements, nobody will expect me to recover.’

Anorexia nervosa benefits from the perception that it is very difficult to defeat, and that discourages people from trying. The illness is emboldened by the notion that we have to rearrange society in order to avoid triggering people with eating disorders. To the anorexia, that means that as long as diet culture exists, there’s an excuse for not recovering.

As I’ve said before, AN has to be treated a bit like a toddler. There’s no room for grey areas or negotiation. Yes, calorie labels are here for the near future at least, and that is a shame. But if you are helping someone to recover, or are in recovery, you have to find a way not to let them scupper that recovery. Better still, use them to your advantage. As I said, if you are in malnutrition you need to eat way more than the government guidelines suggest. So, why not challenge yourself by ordering the highest calorie item on the menu? Go on. You can do it!

Ultimately, this law will help no one. To most of us numbers are just numbers. To those of us lucky enough to have a healthy relationship with food, calories are something that other people look at. People like me never take any notice of them whatsoever. I can honestly say that calories have never influenced my food choice. Ever. In fact, I believe that the only people who will clock the number of the calories in a particular food are those who already have disordered eating or an eating disorder. The rest of us will just carry on with our lives.

And really, when did something as important to our daily life as food become reduced to a number? And why should it be? Not just when eating out — which after all is normally a fun thing to do and not something we do every day anyway — but why should food have a number attached to it at all? It’s over-complicating life in a way that is completely unnecessary and doesn’t allow for any spontaneity or creativity, which is at the heart of human experience. If a chef wants to replace an ingredient with something else, perhaps something in season, do the entire menus have to be rewritten?

It might come as a surprise to Dr Hilary or other proponents of the exalted calorie, but human beings in their current form have existed quite successfully without knowing the calorific value in any foods for around 300,000 years. During that time they managed to become the dominant species on the planet, to invent the wheel, to compose transcendent music, to write literature which touches our souls, to travel up to the very stars and to discover the secrets of DNA, of life itself.

We survived and we thrived, generation after generation, by eating food without knowing its numeric value, without agonising over every last morsel, without having labels on everything. Why do we need this information now? The idea of calories feeds into the unhealthy obsession that modern humans have with manipulating our bodies. Your body is a gift. It is not a malleable object to be contorted or controlled. It exists to sustain life. Your life. That’s it. It will resist attempts to alter it. It will scream in pain or cry in hunger. Let it be. It will be fine without your interference. It knows what it’s doing.

Food is fuel. Nutrition is really important for your physical and mental health. Being well nourished has an enormous effect on your well-being and your state of mind. But food is about so much more than that — which is why restaurants were invented, after all.

Food is a hug from your mum. Food is memory. Food is sharing. Food is joy. Food is taste. Food is texture. Food is aroma. Food is holidays. Food is kindness. Food is nurture. Food is culture. Food is life. Food is love.

Food is not a number.

With thanks to B, AKA The No Nonsense Guide guy, who has written more on this topic here: Highly recommended!