Menu Close

Imperfect Recoveries and the Role of the Supporter

By Andrea LaMarre, PhD

There are a lot of ideas circulating out in the ether around what makes someone “recovered.” You wouldn’t be hard pressed to find a list that delineates the “recovered” from the “stuck in the eating disorder.” We each hold ideas about what recovery looks like, and these ideas are often rooted in and re-circulate clinical ideas about recovery, tinged with a bit of the cultural zeitgeist.

We all want to see the people we love thriving. Especially when we’ve seen our loved ones go through hell, why wouldn’t we want to push for a version of recovery that ticks all of the boxes?

The problem with these boxes is that they shut out shades of individual experience and can sometimes make someone in recovery feel like they don’t belong in the “sick” category or the “well” one. This experience of in-betweenness can feel like floundering against a current of confusing messages about how to be healthy.

There have been times in my own recovery where I have questioned whether I am “doing it right.” Often, these moments have come when I’ve stumbled across a post that suggests there is a firm line between recovered and not recovered. They’ve come upon hearing a snide comment made about someone’s refusal of a doughnut at a gathering, or their engagement in exercise practices. I’ve turned down doughnuts… I exercise! What does this mean for my recovery? On the flip side, am I engaging in “health practices” “enough”? Should I be showing my recovery by posting green smoothies or before and after photos showing that my body fits the “toned ideal”? Is that smooth, toned, glossy vision “recovery”?

The stakes associated with these questions and the boundaries around “recovered” feel even higher when I consider that my positioning myself as recovered is (unfortunately) important to my being taken seriously as a researcher in this field.

But what are the stakes associated with not being able to be honest about the wrinkles of recovery? Based on my research, my involvement in advocacy communities, and my personal experiences, I would say that these stakes are a matter of life and death.

When recovery is equated to perfection – either implicitly or explicitly – it becomes impossible. It becomes a performance of meeting specific standards for healthy humanness in a world that associates health with morality and generates an ideal for health that is closed to anyone who does not fit idealized norms. Time and again, in research and advocacy spaces, I hear calls for representations of recovery that show recoveries in their full complexity and messiness. And yet, we continue to see only the versions of recovery we find socially palatable. These are usually the stories of young, thin, white, cisgender, heterosexual, able-bodied women. Women who have had their eating disorders taken seriously and been able to access treatment. Women whose recoveries are lauded because they have achieved the metrics of “success” that we use to gauge everyone’s worthiness.

It is important to note that these women are me. My own recovery story fits this narrative, particularly on the surface of it. And yet, I’ve still questioned whether I live up to the shiny, happy perfection that is emblematic of eating disorder recovery. I feel like people are watching and that any admission of struggle would call my thoughts and behaviours into question. People who have lived through eating disorders are often used to being watched.

It is also important to acknowledge that it is normal to want to watch out for signs of struggle in those we love who have been through an eating disorder. Supporters, too, are called into a state of hyper-vigilance as they work to support their loved ones through an eating disorder.

So where is the balance? How can supporters be aware of the ways in which people in recovery might feel watched and constrained by expectations for what recovery “should” be like while still wanting to make sure they don’t miss signs of struggle?

In my PhD research, I started to understand a piece of the puzzle, and where supporters might fit in. In speaking with people in recovery and their supporters, I began to see the critical role that supporters can play in making space for people in recovery to experience recoveries that are not perfect, but true to the complexity of their lives.

What does this look like in practice? I hesitate to be prescriptive, or to lump “what is helpful” into a single bucket – one of the key messages I hope to convey in this post is that every recovery looks slightly different; so too will each supportive relationship in recovery. Keeping in mind that I am not a clinical psychologist and that these recommendations in no way replace medical and psychological support, here are a few things that may be worth considering in scaffolding recoveries:

1. Trust

From my lived experience and from my research, trust and feeling trusted as a human being are key parts of feeling like one can be honest about the struggles of life and recovery. It may not always feel like you can or should trust your loved one to know what is best for them. They may not always be acting in their own best interest. However, there is a difference between laying down the law and working collaboratively with your loved one to figure out what might work for them to support them where they are. These kinds of conversations might be challenging and require you to check in with your own gut reactions. It can be helpful, if you have access, to enlist your own support in navigating these conversations.

2. Expectations

If you are finding that your loved one’s recovery doesn’t look quite as you expected it might, it could be worth asking yourself: Where do my ideas about what recovery is come from? About health? About wellbeing? It may be that the yardsticks we are using to measure recovery do not resonate with your loved one. Further, we might question whether “admissions” of struggle represent recovery failures or relapse, or whether talking about struggle is actually a great sign that your loved one trusts you enough to share their challenges.

3. Messaging

Think about the subtle messages we all communicate about recovery and worthiness in the world. In telling recovery stories, we are often keen to tell the story of the achievements we’ve reached. But do we need to get a PhD to make our story worth telling? Listen for the stories that don’t fit the stereotypical mold – they exist, and they can tell us a lot about the social factors that can shape recoveries.

Working to pluralize “recoveries” and to enable space for multiple versions of recoveries to co-exist can feel like an upward paddle—and supporters can play a key role in navigating the current.

Share this post:


  1. Lisa

    Great piece of work. Yes these are helpful observations and adult daughter has taught me a great deal about her determination and struggle for a recovered life that includes both developed skills of coping and her trust to share her challenges. This trust has allowed her to reach out when its helpful and needed and listen to my observations when i voice them.. i see a strong recovery because of this mutual growth.

    • Andrea

      Thank you so much. I love the way you’ve framed that — mutual growth. I can absolutely relate, reflecting on the mutual growth my mom and I have experienced together over the years!

  2. Kevin

    Positively riveting subject and excellent beginning to necessary introspection for caregivers…and the spark for a conversation that must be broached with sufferers. Recovery stories are ALL worthy based on their individualized components…those wrinkles, challenges, achievements, backslides, nuances, agonizing details, and progress. Their parts are more than the sum of the whole recovery story…in terms of exemplars for others on the journey. It’s as counterintuitive as so much of the recovery process itself. On the way to “what recovery looks like for any given individual” the foregoing is such an appealing aspect of treatment because the “big picture” is so often fuzzy and obscured as our loved ones who are suffering focus primarily on details. What you mention about stories is brilliant and…hopefully…energizing for those caregivers who may feel inadequate in the light of glossy recovery stories.

    • Andrea

      Thank you, I’m really glad the piece resonated. I completely agree that all recovery stories are worthy, and hope that more space will continue to be opened up for those whose recoveries are currently not given much airtime. I also hope that this will be energizing for supporters! 🙂

  3. Tina

    This portion: “So where is the balance? How can supporters be aware of the ways in which people in recovery might feel watched and constrained by expectations for what recovery “should” be like while still wanting to make sure they don’t miss signs of struggle?” – so perceptive and thought-provoking and EXACTLY what I need to think about going though our own struggles – just ending year two of living/supporting our 16 year old as she recovers and regains her own life. It is so hard as a mother or supporter who almost lost a loved one and their child to differentiate between trying to trust and understand struggles without fear of relapse. Thank you, thank you – would love for you ro write more. 🙂

    • Andrea

      Thank you for this lovely comment, Tina. It’s such a challenging balance to establish — wishing you all the best as you figure it out together!

  4. Beth Mayer

    This is such a wonderful article and so well done. Thank you ! As a recovered clinician in the field I feel that this is a controversial and important topic. People do judge and watch people that have recovered for signs of health or illness .I once joked with another recovered colleague that when I am at an eating disorder conference I often would be scared not to eat desert for fear of being judged by my colleagues . There is no perfect way to recover and I so appreciate you writing this. We need to be more gentle with this process and allow people to tell us more about their recovery and what and looks and feels like to them.

  5. Dawne Badrock

    Thank you for the perspective. I hadn’t thought about it that way. My 14 yr old daughter is a year out. She’s currently transitioning from her meal plan to intuitive eating. She’s lost some weight in last month since this move, doctors aware, it’s already affecting her thinking as dr. Pointed out to her that the reduced nutrition is why she’s having increased trouble managing the voice. I’m trying to push back (against the disorder) and attempting to keep her eating more on track. Taking back a bit more control again. Ebb and flow. It seems whenever I try to give her more space, trust, ownership it bites me back. I know this is a journey and I have to stay the course. I know your information is crucial. I need to always be considering my view of what is recovery and checking my expectations. I thought that letting the concept of recovery go might help but now I wonder if that is setting her up for never recovering. She still says she doesn’t want to let ED go. I try not to worry about that because she’s young and I think as she matures she’ll stop trying to fight the dichotomy of knowing she cannot live and keep the voice.

    • Andrea

      Thank you for the comment! The process of ups and downs can be really hard — and when a lot of recovery representations look “perfect” it can feel like you aren’t getting there. I know a lot of the supporters I’ve spoken with have felt that way at some point. I hope you have some support to help you navigate it all. Sending the warmest wishes for your daughter’s recovery and for you and your family as you work out this terrain together.

      • John

        Thk u for the article! The journey is sure not perfect but I pray that the end result feels that way! Our young teen hides food, but she eats most of her meal, with encouragement. Trust is a big deal. We try to give her freedom, cautiously.

    • M. Lynch

      I am so glad and thankful FEAST exists! I’m navigating through while in the currently in a fantastic Children’s hospital for the last 2 weeks with my daughter for medical stabilization. We need all the strength and courage to learn, grow and progress to stay strong and guide her through the anguish and ED voices.

  6. Julie

    Thank you for this resource and your eloquent and articulate article. I found myself validated by reading your words. Up until now, I never considered recovery as non-linear and or nestling somewhere in between extremes. My 12-year-old son was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa two years ago (yes, at age 10). Our Dietician recommended this site to me recently as we navigate through current “wrinkles of recovery.” Achieving self-efficacy helped me to support my son and validate his emotions. I am grateful for this website and your article.

  7. Seema Budhiraja

    How to build trust ? Being a prime caregiver, the relationship with my child seems bruised in early stage of her recovery. She is still in hospital and trying to remain on supplement, meal times become frightening if I try tough love. What’s the next baby step I can encourage her to take to develop trust ? Please help !!!!!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial