A mother’s point of view beside her daughter
Anorexia nervosa is a complex, insidious disease that slowly digs into the soul and body of those who suffer from it. But what often remains in the shadows is the equally silent and heartbreaking pain experienced by those around them. To be the mother of a daughter struggling with anorexia is to live each day suspended in a limbo of helplessness, frustration, fear and unconditional love.
When everything changes
At first nothing really seems worrisome. A few renunciations at the table, a change in the way you eat, a diet started “to get better.” As a mother, you watch with some attention, but without becoming too alarmed. But then begin the signs that tug at your heartstrings: the weight loss, the clothes slipping on her, the gaze fading, the smile fading, the urge to go out vanishing.
And along with your daughter, an invisible but cumbersome guest enters the house: anorexia.
It is everywhere. In silent meals, in daily discussions, in long, tension-filled silences.
You see your daughter drifting away, imprisoned in an inner voice telling her that it is never enough, that she has to control everything, that eating is a guilt. And you ask yourself, “Where did I go wrong? What can I do to save her? How can I not lose her?”
Powerlessness and guilt
One of the most lacerating feelings is helplessness. Watching the disease consume your daughter, day after day, without being able to stop it is a wound that reopens every morning. You try to coax her, to speak to her gently, to nurture her with love. But every gesture seems futile. Indeed, it often triggers conflict, misunderstanding, anger.
And then there is guilt, that silent companion that follows you everywhere. You blame yourself for not picking up on the signs, for not being attentive enough, present enough, strong enough. Even though you know that anorexia is a disease and not an educational failure, your heart can’t stop looking for blame.
A mother’s loneliness
Many mothers feel alone. Talking about anorexia is difficult, especially when it comes to your daughter. Society still tends to trivialize eating disorders, to reduce them to cosmetic issues or willpower problems. Inside the home, certain conversations are avoided for fear of making things worse. And so, silence becomes a wall.
Yet, it is precisely the confrontation with other mothers, with those who live in similar situations, that can make a difference. Self-help groups, family psychotherapy, support associations are valuable resources. Not only to better understand the disease, but to no longer feel alone in pain.
To love without annulling oneself
When your daughter is sick, your every thought revolves around her, “Has she eaten? What will she eat? How is she doing today? How can I protect her from a relapse?”
But in order to really help her, it is essential not to forget yourself. Taking care of yourself is not selfishness: it is survival. Finding space to breathe, continuing to nurture your life, talking to a therapist: these are necessary gestures to keep from falling apart. Only if you are stable can you be a rock for your daughter.
A long way, but possible
Anorexia is not overcome in a few weeks. It is a journey of progress and relapse, of days full of hope and others when there seems to be no way out. But controlling the disease is possible.
And the mother’s role, if properly supported, can become a key pillar in recovery.
You can learn to listen to her without judging, to be there without encroaching, to walk alongside her without being overwhelmed. You can be the voice that believes in her even when she can no longer do so.
Being the mother of a daughter with anorexia means facing an invisible, exhausting and obstacle-filled battle. But it is also an immense act of love: to stay. Even when all seems lost. To continue to see your daughter, beyond the disease. To recognize in her the person you love, not the pathology that oppresses her.
Not only your daughter needs help. You, mother, also need support, understanding and tools to keep you from collapsing under the weight of helplessness and pain. You too have the right to be listened to, guided and cared for. Only then can you continue to be that strong, stable and loving presence in the storm your daughter is going through.
