MARCUS

I want to make sure people don’t lose a decade like I did.

I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t trying enough.

“Living up to the ideal image of what a man should be is where it started for me. As men we’re shown pictures and given ideas of what a real man is meant to be, and we try to meet those expectations. I wanted to have the perfect body because I thought that would add a lot to my life and make me more valuable. I was a teenager, probably about 14 or 15 when I first started to take notice of this. I got into some sports, and when I started competing, my body changed as my fitness increased. The moment I got fitter, a couple of girls who had never paid attention to me before, complimented me. At that point it stopped being about sport, and became about wanting to change my body.

At the time there was no social media so I would buy fitness magazines, but I wasn't aware that all the men I was looking at were using steroids and performance enhancing drugs. No matter how hard I would train - weight training, running, swimming - I didn’t look like the men I was seeing in fitness magazines. I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t trying enough. So, I kept training and exercising more, and eating less, in an attempt to gain the ideal body.

The unconscious part of my brain realized in one way or another that my body was starving and started to send me signals to eat. But on a conscious level, my mind was telling me I couldn’t. It became an internal fight. Sometimes I would give in to that urge and eat massive quantities of certain foods. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I’d lose control of how much I was eating because the moment my body noticed I was feeding it, it just wanted more. I would eat so much that I’d feel sick, guilty, and ashamed. So, I started the cycle again by restricting more intensely to compensate. I would starve myself during the week trying to lose what I thought I had gained during my weekend binges. After a while I realized I could make myself vomit, and started purging after episodes of binging. This kept happening for years.”

It was taking so much happiness away from my life that I reached the point where I couldn’t do it anymore.

“There was no particular moment that made me realise I needed to stop. I was miserable, my physical energy levels were low, and I was constantly in a bad mood and tired. I was getting through workouts with large amounts of caffeine, early in the morning. It was taking so much happiness away from my life that I reached the point where I couldn’t do it anymore. I was getting no closer to the body goals that I was after. Among all of my friends I was always the fit guy, though I still wasn’t good enough to meet my own standards, so how I acted reflected that.

Eventually, I learnt more about performance enhancing drugs and steroid culture within the fitness industry. I learnt that even when someone says they are not on steroids, it doesn’t mean they’re not using other drugs to look and perform in a superhuman way. I learnt the difference between athletes who are drug tested and train for optimal performance and health and what their life looks like in comparison to the lifestyle and habits of fitness models. I suppose that was one of the things that gave me a sense of what to expect from the human body, and what it takes to actually feel good and look good having a happy and healthy life without being obsessed and miserable. When I met fitness models I realized, even if they had moments where they looked on top of the world, most of them had a lot of issues. That was the beginning of the change for me.”

Like a lot of guys, I didn’t see what I had as an actual problem because I didn’t fit the stereotype.

“I read books, researched and looked for mentors who were more involved in training great drug free athletes. One of the most difficult things was putting a stop to binge eating. I felt like I had moved past it, I understood what was wrong and why I shouldn’t be doing it, but for some reason it just kept going. I was confused and indescribably frustrated. The pattern of binge eating was so deeply ingrained in my life that I couldn’t stop it. I was aware of what bulimia was but, like a lot of guys, I didn’t see what I had as an actual problem because I didn’t fit the stereotype. I thought there was just something wrong with me or that I was being weak. In my mind, it was a lack of discipline. I didn’t think I could possibly experience an eating disorder because it didn’t look like the stereotype.

It wasn’t until I started doing some study and looking for options and different perspectives from people who had recovered, that I really understood an ED doesn’t just look like one thing. There are different people, different types of EDs, different degrees. When I got counselling, during therapy sessions I would express that I understood why I was there, the influences, the mistakes that I made, that I was given misguided information... I understood that I was an insecure teenager who was looking to make myself valuable. I understood it all but I didn’t know what to do about it. The therapist would usually end the session without giving me any real answers in terms of how to change how I felt.”

The final piece of the puzzle was hearing someone else telling their story in a very similar way to my own.

“As therapy didn’t work for me, I started looking outside for answers. I found them and that’s what led me to recovery. I read books by psychologists, mostly about the brain and our internal biases. I was also a professional guitarist for a period of time, and overcoming stage fright led to some breakthroughs. I realized that the same principles that allowed me to manage my stage fright and become a professional guitarist were actually the same principles that applied to moving past disordered eating. The final piece of the puzzle was hearing someone else telling their story in a very similar way to my own. Kathryn Hanson's book, Brain over Binge, inspired me to put up my hand and say “traditional treatment wasn’t the answer for me.”

We are still idolizing the image of the long suffering masculine hero.

“Men are still at a point where we can’t talk about eating disorders. We are all on our own journey. In some ways we are all exactly the same and, in other ways, we all have unique situations that make us who we are. From my experience, I believe men are being told to reach out for help if they need it, and yet we are still idolizing the image of the long suffering masculine hero - someone who does everything by himself. As people, we are encouraged to reach out for help, to be aware of mental health but, at the same time, we still hide behind what we want others to see. It is kind of like “you can reach out for help but you're still much cooler if you don’t”. That’s probably the most difficult thing I’m dealing with right now as a professional in the industry working to help other people. Guys generally aren’t honest about what they’re experiencing and hold on tightly to a lot of beliefs that limit their ability to be who they’re capable of being.”

I really wish I’d known that my value had way less to do with my appearance than I thought.

“Now, I’m recovered. I don’t let food influence choices that food shouldn’t influence. Food choices no longer dictate my ability to participate in social occasions. I no longer miss out on experiences as a result of food. I make a conscious effort to eat well, and I still train. Recovery for me doesn’t mean not going to the gym and eating anything I like whenever I want and having zero boundaries surrounding food. I haven’t completely rejected everything that came from training and nutrition, but now food doesn’t affect my career, experiences, or social occasions.

The worst part of struggling with an eating disorder is all the experiences I missed out on. It makes me really sad. When I was in my early 20s and doing music industry work, I had the opportunity to go overseas and open for Slash, the guitarist from Guns n’ Roses. I had been a massive Guns ‘n’ Roses fan as a teenager and ended up doing two tours in Asia, a tour of the UK, and spent time living in California. But I was so obsessed with my appearance, body fat, and diet that my energy was always low. I was not a fun person to be around. I didn’t have the energy to enjoy life. It completely took me away from these experiences that I will never get back.

I really wish I’d known that my value had way less to do with my appearance than I thought. I wish that I’d known that trying to make myself look perfect wouldn’t actually bring me any of the happiness I thought it would. There comes a point where you are fit enough and going further is not going to make you any happier. At that point you should start focusing on your personal development, the person that you are, the value that you can bring to the world and what you can achieve.

The positive aspect is that thanks to the journey, I’m now always willing to address the things inside myself that are most difficult to address. I’ve got the courage to look inside myself and see if something needs to be dealt with, no matter what it takes. I wouldn’t have learnt what I learnt about how our brains work without my experiences with eating disorders. What I learnt in regards to my own self management has helped me in my professional life, and in my relationships. It has made me a much wiser person. It has put me in a position that if people come to work with me, I can change their lives in a few months and make sure they don’t lose a decade like I did.”

You can check Marcus work on his Instagram profile Marcus Kain | Nutrition, S&C (@mkaincoaching) • Instagram photos and videos where he reflects on toxic masculinity ideals, sports and fitness industry and helps other men who are struggling with disordered eating.