Suzannah Weiss

“Some of the smartest thinkers . . . are university professors, but most of them just don’t matter in today’s great debates”—or do they?

When I was first diagnosed with anorexia ten years ago, I vaguely knew that eating disorders were a feminist issue.

If they could go back, a lot of women in their 30s would reassure their 20-something selves that they really don’t need to worry. “No one has it all figured out yet. You're going to be fine."

One day, when you’re twice your age, you’ll write a letter to yourself with all the things no one taught you about your period

I have pressured people into sex. I have had partners say they weren’t in the mood and tried to change their minds. I have sulked when they didn’t. And I did this for years without realizing it was wrong. Why? Because I’m a straight woman.

Ever since I was a kid myself, I’ve held the conviction that I didn’t want kids. I found baby dolls creepy and real-life babies irritating. Whenever I told my parents this, they’d say, “You’ll change your mind.” But at age 25, I still haven’t.

When people picture an eating disorder, they often imagine shocking behaviors that deviate wildly from normal eating. But our society’s definition of “normal,” especially for women, can look so similar to an eating disorder that it’s hard to tell when you’ve crossed the line between healthy and disordered eating. That's why, by following popular health advice, I became anorexic without even knowing it.

Who knew the tech industry could do that.

I was six the first time I remember sucking in my stomach.

At age 25, I'm hardly an adult. But boy am I grown up compared to who I was in college. If I could go back in time, I'd have quite a few things to tell my former self, and save a lot of stress, time, and energy.