The “Middle Place” is the Future of Eating Disorder Recovery – and a Warning for Public Health
The number of Americans using GLP-1 medications like Ozempic and Wegovy, initially prescribed for diabetes, has skyrocketed – not for medical need, but for weight loss. Simultaneously, a disturbing trend resurfaced on TikTok before being banned: #SkinnyTok, a hashtag openly promoting eating disorder behaviors. These seemingly disparate phenomena point to a chilling reality: the relentless return of diet culture, and a fundamental misunderstanding of what ‘recovery’ truly means. Mallary Tenore Tarpley’s new book, SLIP: Life in the Middle of Eating Disorder Recovery, offers a crucial counter-narrative, arguing that striving for ‘full recovery’ can be not only unattainable, but actively harmful. And her insights are more relevant now than ever.
Beyond “Cured”: The Problem with the All-or-Nothing Approach
For decades, eating disorder treatment has often focused on achieving complete remission – a state of perfect health, normalized eating patterns, and the absence of disordered thoughts. But Tarpley’s journey, and the stories of those she interviewed for SLIP, reveal a different truth. Relapse is common, perfection is impossible, and the pursuit of an idealized ‘cured’ state can lead to shame, secrecy, and ultimately, a return to harmful behaviors. “I ended up relapsing in college and fell into the cycle of binge eating and restricting,” Tarpley recounts, “I was telling everyone I was fully recovered, even though I wasn’t because I felt ashamed to admit that I was anything but fully recovered.” This pressure to present a flawless recovery narrative is a significant barrier to genuine healing.
Tarpley’s shift came through her work with “restorative narratives” – a framework that emphasizes progress, not perfection, and embraces setbacks as part of the process. This reframing allowed her to normalize “slips” – acknowledging them without letting them spiral into full-blown relapse. It’s a concept that challenges the traditional medical model, which often lacks a clear, universally accepted definition of “full recovery.” As Tarpley points out, “There are almost as many definitions of full recovery as there are studies about it.”
The Rise of Diet Culture 2.0 and the Illusion of Control
The resurgence of diet culture isn’t simply a nostalgic throwback to the 90s. It’s evolved, fueled by social media and pharmaceutical interventions. Where once it was about low-fat diets and unrealistic body standards, it’s now about quick fixes, medicalized weight loss, and the relentless pursuit of thinness through any means necessary. The popularity of GLP-1s, while potentially beneficial for some, taps into the same underlying desire for control that often drives eating disorders. As Tarpley discovered in her own struggle with anorexia, “I found that calorie counts gave me some semblance of control…I couldn’t control what happened to her body [her mother’s], but I could regulate what I put in mine.” This need for control, particularly in the face of grief or trauma, is a common thread among those who develop eating disorders.
Social media amplifies this pressure. #SkinnyTok, despite being banned, demonstrated the dangerous allure of pro-eating disorder content. Even without explicit hashtags, platforms are saturated with images and messages promoting unrealistic body ideals and restrictive eating habits. This constant bombardment can be particularly damaging to vulnerable individuals, reinforcing disordered thoughts and behaviors. A recent study by the National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA) highlights the correlation between social media use and increased body dissatisfaction, particularly among young people.
Parenting in the “Middle Place” and Protecting the Next Generation
The implications of this evolving landscape extend beyond individual recovery. For parents, navigating these challenges is particularly complex. Tarpley candidly describes the “mix of hope and hypocrisy” she experiences when talking to her children about body image. “I’m talking with them about how strong they are…and yet I find that I still have trouble doing that myself.” This internal conflict is common, and it underscores the importance of self-compassion and honest communication.
Protecting children from the harmful effects of diet culture requires proactive engagement. Tarpley advocates for using moments like encountering weight loss ads as opportunities for conversation. “I tell them, you’re going to see so many of these messages, but I want you to know that they don’t have to apply to you.” This approach – normalizing critical thinking about media messages and fostering a positive body image – is crucial for building resilience in the face of societal pressures.
The Future of Eating Disorder Care: Embracing Imperfection and the “Middle Place”
The key takeaway from Tarpley’s work isn’t that recovery is impossible, but that it’s often a non-linear process. The “middle place” – a state of ongoing management, acceptance of setbacks, and a commitment to progress – may be a more realistic and sustainable goal for many. This requires a shift in perspective, both within the medical community and in society at large. We need to move away from the expectation of ‘cure’ and embrace a more compassionate, nuanced understanding of eating disorder recovery.
What does this look like in practice? It means prioritizing mental health support, challenging unrealistic beauty standards, and fostering a culture of body acceptance. It means recognizing that recovery isn’t a destination, but a journey – one that requires ongoing self-compassion, support, and a willingness to embrace the imperfections along the way. What are your thoughts on redefining recovery? Share your perspective in the comments below!
