“You haven’t logged your lunch for today. Would you like to do it now?”
The notification from MyFitnessPal popped up on my phone, reminding me to track how many calories the dressing on my salad was. Thanks to my seemingly-healthy morning coffee and avocado toast, I was already halfway through my calorie intake for the day — 1,260 calories.
While apps like MFP seem like a plausible option to monitor one’s weight, they can develop and worsen eating disorders and body image issues among their users.
When I first downloaded this app, it asked me what my goals were: whether I wanted to lose or gain weight and how quickly I wanted to achieve this goal. Being younger and insecure, I chose the option that would push me to lose the most amount of weight, in the shortest period of time.
From then on, I tracked everything I ate and every exercise I did — trying to be the most precise with my calorie intake. I paid careful attention to calories in grams of ketchup, sugar in my tea, even my multivitamins I took every morning.
The app scrutinized every detail. Too much sugar, too many carbs. Too many calories, not enough protein.
It exhausted me.
Meals became a chore, and I was constantly worrying myself about my calorie intake. Was I tracking right? Did I miss something? Was I under-estimating?
Thanks to my new obsession with “healthy eating”, I couldn’t step into Hen House without the same anxiety. How many calories does this have? How many grams of fat does this have? How much have I eaten already? Should I pick the one with less carbs or less calories? Will this make me fat? Did I work out today?
I realized how unhealthy and toxic MFP was when my mom asked if I was doing alright — she had noticed that I had done 3 Powerlife Sculpt classes within 12 hours of each other, and had asked her to make salads for dinner every night that week. I don’t even like salads. I knew I had to delete the app, as it was depleting my mental and physical health.
Still, more than six months after deleting the app, I feel the effects. As much as I try to adopt intuitive eating practices, the habits MFP taught me have stuck — worrying about which meat has more protein at Chipotle, spending too much time deciding on what bag of chips is healthier and occupying myself with how much I have eaten.
While I’m sure MFP is a great tool for bodybuilders or obese people trying to lose weight, there is no reason an average-sized, fit teenager should have it on their phone.
Turns out this unhealthy obsession with food has a name: Orthorexia Nervosa. It’s an eating disorder categorized by “compulsive checking of ingredient lists and nutritional labels, spending hours per day thinking about what food might be served at upcoming events and showing high levels of distress when ‘safe’ or ‘healthy’ foods aren’t available,” according to the National Eating Disorder Association.
In fact, a study done by the University of Louisville found that MFP is commonly used among those with eating disorders and contributes to worsening their eating disorder symptoms
Surprise, surprise.
While surely not the goal, the app reinforces and helps eating disorders flourish. It can definitely be a great tool in some cases, but as a society struggling with eating disorders and body image issues, we should rethink how we are using these tools to keep us “healthy.”
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