A rare personal annecdote

When I was in college, my mom, concerned about my low energy level, took me to see a nutritionist.  I had never been very energetic, but just in case, my invested, proactive, baby-boomer Mom had spoken with doctors and gotten my blood tested.  When the results came back negative, I rationalized them with my late teenage complacency and inertia (and, I suppose, my low energy level).  But Mom reasoned that even if there was nothing concretely wrong with me, there might be something that I could adjust, in my diet or lifestyle, to fix it.

It was a very good idea of my hers.  And so, I pretty cheerfully accompanied her to the nutritionists'  house.  Whereupon I was informed that she was not actually a nutritionist, but a "nutrition detective".  And that I probably had a rare mitochondrial condition - nothing too serious, but I should still take daily supplements.

(And they were such strange supplements! - not your run-of-the-mill calcium, iron, and vitamin D, but evil-tasting and requiring a search in more than one store.)

It's true that I am bitter towards this woman because it was very clear that she had no interest in treating people, and certainly didn't take an interest in me, but only cared about providing very specific and unusual (and reductionist) solutions to complex questions.  (And for suggesting that I shouldn't study abroad because of my "condition".  And for always bringing up my "low muscle tone".  I get it, lady, sheesh.)

But if I had anything to discuss with her, it wasn't my low energy level, it was my not-so-good relationship with food.  I told her that I was afraid I ate too much.  She asked me why that bothered me. So I told her I never really let myself get hungry, and did not know how to stop eating when I was full.  I still remember the way that she pushed her glasses to the bridge of her nose, peered at me, and said, "But why do you care?  You're not fat."

With no regard for psychology and mental health, she was clearly a quack.  I only knew that I didn't like to be shut down enough to insist after three sessions that I was't going back, but at the time, I failed to put my finger on four key things:

1. A bad relationship with food is an issue, yes, even in a thin person.
2. And her idiotic, insensitive response made me fear, and hate, the ever-dreaded GETTING FAT with even more fervor.
3. I was not alone.
4. Innumerable other young women that feel the exact same way is a symptom of something gone seriously wrong with the system, not something to be dismissed and neglected.