Was it always about food?

Maybe not. Maybe it was about safety. Or visibility. Or a desperate attempt to feel pure in a world that felt out of control.

Anorexia nervosa is often seen through the lens of diet culture, but its roots stretch much deeper. Across centuries, people—especially women—have used the language of hunger to express suffering, seek meaning, and grasp at control. Understanding where anorexia comes from isn’t just academic. It’s healing. It helps us reframe our pain—not as weakness, but as wisdom in disguise.

In this guide, we’ll explore the long, layered history of anorexia. Along the way, we’ll gently reflect on what these historical threads can teach us about recovery today.

Curious about your relationship with food? Our free quiz can offer some gentle insight.

Early Origins — Fasting, Faith, and Female Sainthood

Long before “anorexia” was a medical term, people—especially women—were fasting.

In the Middle Ages, women like St. Catherine of Siena practiced extreme fasting as a form of spiritual purification. They refused food not to lose weight, but to gain holiness. Their bodies became battlegrounds of divine devotion. In a world where women had little power, fasting was often their only form of protest, control, or expression.

Catherine reportedly survived on little more than the Eucharist for years. Her extreme emaciation was viewed by some as saintly, by others as self-destruction.

The line between ascetic devotion and anorexia is blurry. But the deeper thread is clear: fasting was often a way to assert something—worth, identity, purity—in systems that offered women few options.

Modern anorexia may look different. But the longing behind it—the need to feel enough, to feel safe, to belong—echoes across time.

The Medicalization of Anorexia in the 19th Century

In 1873, English physician Sir William Gull named the condition “anorexia nervosa.”

This marked a significant shift: from spiritual devotion to medical pathology. Gull observed young women refusing food, losing weight, and becoming dangerously thin. But even as medicine entered the conversation, it remained shaped by social assumptions—especially about women’s bodies and emotions.

Gull described his patients as stubborn, willful, resistant. His framing reflected the era’s gender biases: women were emotional, irrational, in need of male intervention. Anorexia became something to be “fixed” rather than understood.

And yet… even in these early medical texts, there was something unspoken. A kind of reverence. A recognition that starvation wasn’t always about the stomach—it was often about the soul.

20th Century Diet Culture and the Rise of Thinness

The 20th century introduced a new force: thinness as ideal.

Post–World War II, fashion and media began idolizing slimness. In the 1960s and ’70s, models like Twiggy set impossible standards. By the time singer Karen Carpenter died of anorexia in 1983, the world was beginning to wake up.

But the damage was done.

Thinness became synonymous with discipline, success, desirability. For many—especially young girls—eating less wasn’t a disorder. It was a goal.

And still today, echoes of this era linger. Wellness culture may now disguise its control through words like “clean,” “fit,” or “gluten-free,” but the pressure to shrink remains.

What gets missed in all this is the emotional story: how internalized shame, perfectionism, and media messaging create a web so tight that the only form of control some people feel is over what they eat—or don’t eat.

Psychology Meets Physiology — A New Understanding Emerges

From the 1980s through the early 2000s, our understanding of anorexia deepened. The field expanded beyond calorie counts and body weight.

Psychologists began recognizing that anorexia wasn’t just about food—it was about emotional regulation, identity, and trauma. Family systems therapy emerged. So did trauma-informed approaches. The DSM refined its criteria. More space was made for context, not just symptoms.

Some researchers began noticing how anorexia reflected nervous system collapse: the frozen stillness of trauma, the numbing of sensation, the retreat from aliveness. People weren’t choosing anorexia. They were adapting to overwhelming inner states.

Insight: What looks like willpower is often survival. What looks like perfectionism is often fear.

Anorexia Today — Invisible Suffering in a Wellness World

Today, anorexia hasn’t disappeared—it’s just better hidden.

It’s tucked behind “clean eating.” Masked by fitness apps. Normalized in hustle culture. Many people live with disordered eating and never get diagnosed—especially if they don’t look stereotypically underweight.

This is particularly true for:

• Men
• BIPOC individuals
• Trans and nonbinary folks
• Older adults

Our systems still tend to diagnose based on appearance, not internal suffering.

And in this climate, anorexia can feel both invisible and celebrated. The thinner you become, the more “disciplined” you appear. But inside, the pain is real—and often unspoken.

This is why Eating Enlightenment exists: to create a safe space for people who don’t fit the mold, whose stories don’t sound like textbooks, but whose pain is just as real.

What History Can Teach Us About Healing

So what do all these centuries reveal?

That anorexia isn’t just a “modern problem.”
That it has never really been about food.
That it’s always been a language—of grief, of longing, of trying to make meaning.

This history reminds us:

• Control is often a response to chaos
• Restriction is often a way to feel worthy
• Starvation is often a way to say, “Please see me”

If you’re exploring the roots of your eating patterns, our Enlighten Eats Course offers a gentle, structured path toward insight and healing.

Moving Forward: Compassionate Models for a New Era

Healing is no longer about “fixing” disordered behavior. It’s about listening—at every level.

Relational healing invites us to co-regulate in safe, supportive spaces.
Somatic healing helps us reconnect with hunger, fullness, and the right to take up space.
Developmental healing reminds us that growth is uneven—and that’s okay.

Recovery is not a straight line. But it’s possible. And you don’t have to do it alone.

Coaching offers a supportive space to explore your unique healing path. Learn more here.

Conclusion: The Story Isn’t Over — And You’re Not Broken

Anorexia has always been complex.

Its roots stretch across history, culture, and emotion. But at the heart of every story is a person—someone who was trying to survive, to be good, to be seen.

You are not broken. You are a human being navigating a world that often demands too much while offering too little in return.

The good news is: healing is possible. And it begins with understanding.

Take our free quiz to explore your relationship with food and take one gentle step forward.