Chapter 1 - Freshman Year - Orientation

College is where healthy eating goes to die. I was no exception.

Before I went to college I was the definition of fitness. I was 112 pounds, I was an all state swimmer, and I never, NEVER ate poorly. I would receive all the usual compliments about my body from other girls, though I was a little insecure about how flat I was. Generally though, I was happy.

And then I went to college.

As a freshman I would have unlimited access to the dining hall. With how cramped and shabby freshman dorms are, that would mean I would spend all my time in D-Hall with my friends.

The food options left a lot to be desired. Besides a meager salad bar there was a buffet serving fried foods of all kinds, a pizza station serving pizza dripping with grease, a drinks station with every soda you could want, and even a dessert rack where you could have as many sweets as you’d like. At the time I was mortified. Little did I know how much I would change.

My first meal at the dining hall was simple: a single slice of pizza and a Pepsi. I made sure to dab as much grease as I could off of the pizza so as to make it feel at least a little healthier. Taking a bit felt so wrong. My normal foods, chicken breast, quinoa, fat free yoghurt, all were gone. Instead I had to eat this slop. This…delicious delicious slop.

Oh no…

I felt something stir inside me. Like a spark. The pizza was so good. And the soda, I couldn’t even remember the last time I had even had soda. It was so sweet, so bubbly. It was perfect. I went up for a second slice, then a third, and two more glasses of Pepsi. By the end of it I felt full and lethargic. I had never eaten so poorly in all my life. The grease alone left me feeling sluggish and disgusting.

So why did it feel so good?

My other friends, skinny swimmers like me, laughed at me. “Careful, don’t wanna put on the freshman 15” one said. “I heard now it’s the freshman 30” said another. A pang of guilt ran through me, mixing with the strange sensation I was feeling. We parted ways for the night, but before I left, I grabbed a few cookies. Back at my dorm I let loose, eating them at a feverish pace. Something about it. It did something for me. I thought about the girls laughing. Laughing at me. Why…why was I so wet?

Before I knew it one cookie was gone, then another, then another. I was full. I should’ve stopped. But I didn’t. Why didn’t I? What’s happening? Why do I wish my friends could see me? Before I knew it I was out of cookies, and my roommate had returned from her own meetup with friends. She left as soon as she arrived for a party, leaving me alone and embarrassed.

In the silence of the dorm room I felt a lot of new feelings. I felt guilty. I felt shame. I felt…god I felt so turned on. I needed to know what was going on, so I searched the only place I could: the internet.

“It feels good when I eat”

We’re animals, wired to like eating.

“I like eating unhealthy food”

Greasy, calorie dense food can produce an almost drug like state.

“Being degraded for eating”

Members of the feederism community will tease and degrade feedees.

…the what?

I type one word into the search bar. One word that would change my life forever.

“Feederism”