How I Went From Anorexia to Registered Dietitian (Eating Disorder Recovery)

I’m Haylee Shelton and I’m so happy you found this post. Although I will be sharing my story with anyone interested in hearing it, I should issue a trigger warning to those who are in a sensitive place of recovery or do not feel they are yet stable enough to deal with the delicate topics that are discussed in this post.

Alright, moving forward: I’m a 27 year old Registered Dietitian located in Orlando, Florida and currently run my nutrition therapy private practice all by myself (sounds scary when I put it like that). Since graduating from the University of Cincinnati in 2016, I’ve worked in community and clinical nutrition (with experience ranging from intensive cardiac care to outpatient pediatric counseling, and many others in between). I’ve since narrowed my practice in on my true passion: nutrition therapy for those recovering from disordered eating and other psychological disturbances surrounding food and nutrition. My practice recognizes that one does not have to be diagnosed with a full blown eating disorder to have a struggled relationship with food and health (considering 80% of women have attempted to diet before the age of 10 and over 75% of 17 year old girls admit to having body image issues). My hope, through my work, is to make even just a small dent in those numbers.

I commonly receive questions about why I’m specifically interested in this area of nutrition, what inspired me to combine my nutritional expertise with my passion for mental health, how I got here, and what types of clients I work with. To answer those questions, I’m going to have to dive a bit deeper into my personal story. 

Growing up I was a pretty typical midwestern, suburban kid. I played outside with my friends, I was involved in every recreational sports league you could imagine, ate doughnuts every Saturday morning, enjoyed family vacations to the beach, and binge watched cartoons on the weekends. Admittedly, I had a rather easy childhood with countless positive memories. I don’t remember ever even noticing my body until about the age of 12. Yes, the beloved middle school years filled with hormones, oily skin, braces, and stringy hair is when I first started taking notice in my physical appearance. Up until this point I can honestly say I had 0 qualms with my body, no cares about my weight or shape or bra size, and certainly no abnormal eating habits. 

The 7th grade really shocked me. Everyone and everything seemed so different. Just last year it was acceptable to play in the mud, build forts in the woods, and wear nothing but stinky outside clothes all summer long. But something was off about this place. It felt dry of childhood playfulness, of creativity, of individuality. The girls were straightening their hair and wearing makeup. They were carrying handbags and their jeans fit a bit tighter than I remembered from the 6th grade. I don’t think I was quite ready for this change and I remember it being the first time I felt slightly self conscious. For the first time, I noticed I had a really flat chest (like, so flat), my hair was “too curly” for 2006, my face was a little round, my legs weren’t that long, etc.. At lunch I noticed the girls left their food on their trays because they were embarrassed to eat in front of the boys. I thought it was strange, but figured it must be the grown up/lady-like thing to do. I guess I didn’t get the memo, but I caught on. “Yeah… I guess I could slim down a bit, get rid of some of this baby fat….”

I took notice in the things I was eating, and decided my diet was unacceptable. I gave up after school snacks and took smaller portions at dinner. I refused to eat anything I personally labeled as unhealthy. In the long run, this turned out to be just a short lived phase, you might even say it was a very typical situation for a prepubescent girl to be in, and didn’t seem too serious. Looking back, though, it was just a taste (no pun intended) of what was to come later in my teen years. 

Fast forward to my sophomore year of high school, when I joined the cross country and track team. I had always been very active in other things like basketball, soccer, and softball, but decided that I preferred the idea of no-contact sports (I’m not a super touchy person by nature and enjoy my personal bubble. But my weird quarks could make up an entirely separate post 🙄 ). In the first few months of running long distances every day after school, I had naturally lost around 5-7 pounds. This wasn’t intentional and certainly wasn’t my goal in the slightest bit. I really hadn’t even noticed this weight change until I received a few comments that sounded a bit like praise to me. To be clear, I have never been over weight and have always been considered somewhat small, so any weight loss whatsoever was unnecessary. But when my peers began commending my weight loss (some even telling me they were envious of “how skinny I was”), I couldn’t help but think that maybe I was fat before I began running. Maybe I did need to lose weight all along. Maybe this weight loss is a good thing and I should keep going. . . 

It was then that I discovered the euphoric feeling of watching the number on the scale go down… and down… and down. What started out as an innocent hobby of after school running and socializing with friends quickly became an unhealthy obsession. Within less than 1 year I had lost 30 pounds off of my already small frame. This time, the fix wasn’t so simple. This time, it wasn’t a phase. I had now breached full blown eating disorder territory and was ultimately diagnosed with anorexia nervosa at age 17. I was far more restrictive with my eating than I had ever been before, and over exercised to the point that it was physically dangerous to my health. My body was completely emaciated and all I could think about was losing more weight. My ribs were prominent, my face sunk in, and my hip bones showed through my clothes. But all I could think about was reaching that next size down. Then I would be happy.

My friends and family were worried sick, but no one really knew how to help as this was an incredibly sensitive topic and the smallest mis-step in someones words could have sent me over the edge. My parents begged me to eat, pleaded with me to stop losing weight, but I had lost all control. Deep down I hated what was happening, but I couldn’t make it stop. Every time I tried to increase my intake or take a bite of a fear food, it ended in tears and self hatred. I’m not sure what it was, but one morning after weighing myself (the daily ritual of stripping down and hoping to have set a new record low), the number on the scale astonished me in a way it hadn’t the day before. Rather than make me feel accomplished, this time it terrified me. It clicked that I no longer had authority over my mind or body. Something evil had stepped in and taken it right from me. I walked down the stairs to the kitchen and told my parents I would see the doctor they had been so desperately urging me to see. 

At my lowest weight and at the highest peak of my depression, I walked into the home of Dr. Renae Norton, a super genius in the world of psychology. She knew the inner workings of the human mind as well as I knew the number of calories in 4 oz of grilled chicken breast, no seasoning, please. I was anxious, fidgety, and even a bit leery. How is this stranger supposed to help me overcome my fear of food and weight gain? Can this woman really pull me out of this helpless cycle of self harm through words? No way, I thought. She has no clue what I’m going through. She has not the slightest idea what this is like. Or so I thought. 

The first session we didn’t discuss food or weight or anything related to why I thought I was there. I fully expected this to be one hour of hell: her telling me to eat more, me refusing, and so on and so forth. It wasn’t. It was actually kind of nice. Our time together went by pretty quickly and consisted of a conversation regarding my history, my hobbies, my passions, my friends, my home life, etc. She told me about her history of anorexia when she was my age, and how it inspired her to help young women just like me. (“Ok…. I think I might like her… I might be open to this”).

The next week I returned, with the notebook in hand that she provided me in our first session. I was supposed to record everything I ate for 7 days, and we were to review it together (what a horrifying thought for someone suffering an ED. But for some reason I was willing). The first few weeks my notebook was filled with lies: I said I ate more than I did, estimated my calories to be much higher than what was realistic, and even wrote down that I had snacked on some cookies, just to make her happy. Tricky one, I was. 

This went on for months: we reviewed my diet, talked about life, what was going on at school, how I was feeling physically, and if I was ready to try some new foods yet. I was never pushed to increase my intake or try anything I didn’t feel 100% comfortable with. To this day, I don’t know how she did it (I think she’s some sort of wizard or magician), because I slowly but surely began feeling more open to increasing my calories. Albeit small, progress was poking it’s little head through this vail of darkness I had been under for so long. I was slowly incorporating more “adventurous” foods into my diet (I’m talking sweetened/fruited yogurt instead of plain. Like I said, baby steps). Eventually this lead to ice cream dates with friends, a glass of red wine at Christmas, pizza on Friday with my dad. Yes, I saw a few pounds sneakily creep in, but I was oddly at peace with it. I saw these few pounds as a small price to pay for the new life I was living. This new life full of laughter and memories: walking to get shaved ice after track practice with teammates, celebrating my birthday with a surprise cookie bouquet from my mom, and sharing a bowl of popcorn over a movie with my boyfriend (now husband. Yep he’s been with me through it all). If only life were like a fairytale, if everything were rainbows and butterflies, I would tell you that the story ends there. 

Unfortunately, positive body image is probably something I will always have to hype myself up about (but I mean, what women doesn’t?). I’ve accepted the fact that this isn’t something that comes naturally for me, but I’m still more than capable of achieving it. I just have to put in a little extra effort, that’s all. I’ve stopped believing the lies that I will always be unhappy with my body, and started listening to God’s truth about who I am and what I’m worth. I can, with complete honesty, tell you that I absolutely love my body the way it is right now. Would I like bigger breasts? Sure. Would I firm up my booty with the snap of my fingers? Hell yeah. But I love my body the exact way it is in the present moment. Long gone are the days I constantly schemed to change my body, obsessively planned out exactly what will go into my mouth, or endlessly worried I may have gained a couple ounces from that salty meal. Instead, I appreciate my body for what it can do, admire it’s uniqueness, love it’s shape, and above all, thank it.  

My body gets me out of bed each morning to go on my daily run, it then utilizes the nutrients I give it through breakfast to energize the rest of my day, it gives me sustained strength to get my work done during the afternoon, and grants me the incredible blessing to enjoy my evenings with my family and friends. After all, my body is the vessel in which my life happens, so I will give it the respect and good treatment it deserves. 

So, if you’re still reading this (and kudos to you if you are), I want to thank you for taking the time to get to know me. For taking the time to listen to my story. My goal through all of this - 6 years of school, endless hours of studying for the CDR board exam, working jobs that I was less than passionate about, and finally making the decision to open my own practice - is to have the same sort of positive impact on others that Dr. Norton had on me years ago. If you feel compelled, I invite you to reach out. Let’s talk about the steps that we can take together to get you closer to your best self. Your healthiest you. Your happiest you.

-Haylee Shelton, RDN

If you’re interested in finding food freedom and ditching diet culture forever, check out my 10-week, self-paced, online intuitive eating course by clicking here.