Starving for Success
A version of this essay was published in the October 2022 issue of the American Swimming Magazine.
As a child of hard-working immigrant parents, I was raised to be an achiever. Shortly after my mom graduated from the top of her class at UCLA, she was offered a job by the CIA. My father earned four college degrees (including a Ph.D. in economics) before he went on to work at some of the top banking institutions in the United States. Watching them progress in their careers while I grew up instilled a strong work ethic in me; driving me to succeed in everything I do. I was trained to win.
Although I was fiercely competitive, I also embodied wavering confidence and an overly empathetic heart. My childhood was spent in a dysfunctional home environment. Growing up, I navigated my way around a marriage that was treading on thin ice. I thought this was normal. It wasn’t until much later that I realized this wasn’t the experience of most of my peers as I had imagined.
When I was five years old, I started swimming lessons. By age nine, I was competing on a USA Swimming affiliated team. I dove into the dream of my accomplishments, washing away the struggles I faced at home. Unfortunately, swimming also became an unsafe place for me after I came across an abusive coach who I trained under for six years–an experience which I go into more detail about in a Swim Swam Magazine article titled, “Sometimes holding on does more damage than letting go." In this piece, I want to focus more on something that developed from the multiple stress factors that I dealt with during my childhood.
Like any other illness, eating disorders (ED) often start gradually, and without proper treatment, they can spiral out of control. For me, it wasn't until I was 11 years old that each of the situational obstacles that I was dealing with aligned and sparked an illness that was later diagnosed as Bulimia (an eating disorder characterized by a combination of binging, purging, and/or over-exercising). I have been through a lot, but I consider myself among the lucky ones because someone recognized my eating disorder when I couldn't and eventually convinced me to get support. Although it was too late to save my swimming career, the help that I got saved something far more important. It saved my life.
My chlorinated sweat was driven by intense anxiety and the desperate need to feel a sense of control. I clipped onto my Speedo the false notion that success would buy me and my family happiness and sanity. This toxic extrinsic motivation led my entire string of efforts to become unsustainable. Bridget Engel (Psy.D) wrote an article on Gulf Bend MHMR Center’s website stating, “People with eating disorders are primarily concerned about what others think of them, rather than what they think of themselves. Other people with eating disorders, such as athletes, tend to judge themselves against internally set standards. Regardless of what set of standards they judge themselves against, perfectionists always strive to meet the highest standard of performance possible. They easily find themselves in a self-defeating cycle of fear and dissatisfaction when they fail to meet their expectations and goals. This happens even when the expectations are unrealistic and unhealthy. This sense of fear and dissatisfaction creates a renewed drive toward thinness, perfection, and control. This is the endless cycle of dysfunctional eating behavior that makes up eating disorders.”
Most people who struggle with eating disorders are so dazed by their illness that they are unable to see that their eating disorder does the opposite of improving their performance. You can shove a fist full of statistics down their throat or glue them to a seat at the dinner table, but realizing that eating disorders are deadly isn’t a cure. It takes more than a brochure of facts to break through this illness. Not seeking professional help at the right time leads to significant disruption to one's mental and physical performance.
I reached a breaking point at the age of fifteen and went to my first therapy session, which was followed by five more years of therapy and three hospitalizations. It took five years to get stable, and even still, I occasionally revert to destructive behaviors if I’m not being careful.
For the longest time, I never understood why I was being lapped by the swimmers that I used to be ahead of before my eating disorder developed. I still remember the countless times when I hid in a locker room stall and cried my eyes out after each competition, where I was forced to watch my body fall apart during races. Because I was amid my illness, I couldn't piece together the fact that starving for success eventually leads to failure. My eleven-year-old self couldn’t piece together that pinning ribbons on and stacking medals and trophies against both of your parent’s bedroom doors doesn’t stop the fights or ease the tension. All my eleven-year-old self craved was safety and security, but it came out in the form of starving for success.
USA Swimming affiliated teams only train and hold competitions for athletes who are eighteen and under (with the exception of Olympic Trials). I was twenty by the time I was physically able to return to a swimming program that no longer had a place for me.
My story is not unique, but I hope that sharing it and having one more vocal survivor out there will move someone else a step closer to reaching out for support. I am passing on the message of hope through my story because someone passed it to me when I desperately needed to hear it. Although it was too late to save my swimming career, the help that I got saved something far more important. It saved my life.
If you or someone you know is struggling, there is help available. See the resources linked below.
