Hidden Harm and Hope in Eating Disorder Recovery Memoirs

Source: A. Spotts-De Lazzer

“That memoir made me think I had failed at my eating disorder because they could go without food longer than I could.” “I learned new tricks—basically how to get better at my eating disorder.” “I got triggered by it.”

Throughout my 17+ years as an eating disorders therapist, I have often heard these kinds of comments from patients/clients who had read eating disorder recovery stories. So when people ask if they “should” read them, I usually stress the “at your own risk” element and explain why. Sadly, research gives support to my hesitancy and warning (Shaw & Homewood, 2015; Troscianko, 2018).

Yet, when someone has an eating disorder, it can feel hopeless and isolating. So people often want to find connection and a sense of hope that people can recover. Thus, a recovery memoir seems like a natural match. And though I am not a mind reader, I’m quite sure that most-to-all authors of memoirs don’t intend for their recovery memoirs to negatively trigger readers with eating disorders. Yet they often do. So there’s been a conundrum.

A recent study gets us all closer to determining if and how memoirs can be, at the very least, not harmful.

Study overview

Emily Troscianko, a researcher and fellow Psychology Today blogger, wrote her own recovery memoir, The Very Hungry Anorexic, and then designed a research protocol to test if it should be published. If no harm, it would go to press. If harm were found, it would be considered a project for her own benefit but not for public consumption.

Troscianko and colleagues (2024) enlisted 64 participants who identified as having active eating disorders. Each participant either read the experimental memoir text or a control text over about a two-week period. At specific times during their readings, participants completed measures that allowed the researchers to assess attitudes about illness and recovery. The researchers collected quantitative data before and after the reading, and the results would then indicate if the experimental memoir would meet the threshold for harmful effects.

In the end, Troscianko’s “memoir was found not to yield measurably harmful effects for readers with an ED [eating disorder]” (Troscianko et al., 2024). But why? What made this so different for readers?

Attention to the skew

The study pointed out that “the evenly balanced proportions of illness and recovery phases differ from the typical ratio found in published ED [eating disorder] memoirs.” The researchers spotlighted that so many recovery memoirs have been “heavily skewed towards the illness section of the narrative.” And as I read that, I found myself cheering.

When memoir authors relive the pain of the past on the pages, I find that it can communicate the opposite of triumph or empowerment for healing. I’ve often wondered why authors (speakers, too) tend to focus on so much struggle and pain versus empowerment and what life is like without an eating disorder.

My own informal research and tests

In an attempt to counter the known concerns about memoirs but still provide the guidance, sense of community, and hope that I know people seek, I created a book called MeaningFULL: 23 Life-Changing Stories of Conquering Dieting, Weight, and Body Image Issues.

In it, I was intentional about the following:

• Editing the mini memoirs to provide just enough pain so the triumph mattered. (An initial draft lacked any struggle or pain, which test readers reported to be confusing and not engaging. So I sought to place the pain and illness as secondary to the progress and paths forward to healing, which test readers said worked.)
• Including an array of relatable memoirs to try to prevent the over-identification I’d noticed as problematic. I hoped people would identify with many stories, which meant connecting with various struggles, strengths, and potential solutions.
• Following the “avoid specific numbers” standard.
• Generalizing (removing specific details) behaviors to prevent readers from getting explicit “tips” on how to get better at eating disorder behaviors.

Performing my own informal ethics testing, I collected feedback from numerous beta readers ranging from professionals to parents to those with eating disorders. I asked directly about their experiences of MeaningFULL—harmful or helpful, where, what needed changing, etc. And they provided suggestions and edits. Then, after an extensive revision and feedback period, the general opinion was that MeaningFULL was overall helpful (or at the very least, not harmful). So, I moved forward to publish it.

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Responsibility for hidden harm and hope

Source: Min An / Pexels

Recovery memoirs may be a needed form of expression and potential hope. Yet there is little research to guide authors or publishers regarding safety. (Thank you, Emily, for this study!)

I believe the publishers and authors hold the responsibility of thoughtfulness. That said, if someone’s recovery story is likely to sell a ton of copies (think celeb recovery books), it makes sense that the publisher would want to get the material out there for purchase—their business is to sell books.

Thus, the ultimate responsibility probably falls on the authors: A thoughtful process about the following may be the best we can do: potential benefits vs. harm, amount of content “in” the struggle vs. strength and hope, etc. For example, Troscianko’s article pointed out how a fellow author and recovery coach decided not to publish after completing her memoir due to the risk of triggering readers (2024).

So what’s a reader to do?

If you are a potential recovery memoir reader, you probably know that eating disorders are disorders that often involve a lot of comparison. Before you dive into someone’s memoir:

1. Ask yourself if you’re ready for hundreds of pages of potential comparisons.
2. Perhaps you can email the author and ask if there was any process for testing the risk of harm.
3. Also, if you have a therapist or dietitian, talk to them about the memoir you’re considering.

Your safety matters. You matter. May you someday will write your own recovery memoir either for your own empowerment or publication, or both.