Like many other impressionable, strong-willed teenage girls, my eating disorder began at 13. I became obsessed with the idea that I could ‘fix’ all of my body’s supposed (and, in reality, nonexistent) faults and shortcomings if I was just disciplined enough. Soon after setting this “goal,” the pandemic began. The Covid years marked the rise of TikTok, and as the platform became flooded with fitness influencers posting “what I eat in a day” (#WIEIAD) videos and at-home workouts, I, alongside many others, found myself falling down a pro-ana rabbit hole.

Despite TikTok’s efforts to clamp down on harmful content like this, the proliferation of this kind of content, often couched in the language of wellness, clean eating and fitness, has snowballed in recent years. Most recently, #SkinnyTok has emerged as one particularly dangerous subsection of the online pro-ana world. In June of this year, TikTok banned the hashtag after European regulators warned it was promoting disordered eating behaviours and extreme weight loss; however, despite this, coded content continues to persist freely.

For anyone over a certain age, this will all sound very familiar. Before #SkinnyTok, there was Tumblr’s pro-ana era of the 2010s. ‘Thinspo’ posts glamorised emaciation through aesthetic imagery and became a breeding ground for eating disorders, to such an extent that in 2012, Tumblr banned explicit self-harm content and hashtags like thinspo.

Anyone who’s lived through an eating disorder knows: it doesn’t just affect you, it affects your family, friends and your ability to relate to the world. At my worst, I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror or make eye contact with others, scared that they were seeing an insufficient version of me. While it’s hard to internalise constructive suggestions or keep an open mind during struggling times, we asked prominent voices who lived through Tumblr-era pro-ana culture for tips on navigating triggering content online.

LUCAS OAKELEY, JOURNALIST AND AUTHOR

“I didn’t navigate the online ED space so much as barrel through it like a privet hedge, coming out the other side covered in scratches and psychic wounds but, thankfully, and most importantly, alive. I leaned more towards the male-oriented spaces like the Bodybuilding.com forums. Looking back now, there were many people there displaying extremely worrying tendencies and giving out some terrible and dangerous advice. 

“My moment of realisation came when I hit rock bottom and realised there wasn’t anywhere else to go. My advice is to take as much pleasure in the little things in life as possible. Even if you’re feeling hopeless, try to enjoy the feeling of the sun on your skin or a beautiful piece of music. Live in the real world for as much as you can, meeting people and talking to them. Cut out all related content because if you’re someone predisposed to disordered eating, then it won’t matter how ‘safe’ it is: your brain will find a way to warp it into something more dangerous. 

“Therapy is helpful, and seeking professional help is a must. But looking within is important as well – realising, in maybe a slightly nihilistic way, that no one really cares what you look like or how much you weigh. Your worth to the world is based on so much more than a number on a set of scales, it’s how kind you are and how much love you have to give. It’s cringe to say, ‘YOLO’, but there’s some truth in it, too.”

EMMA SPECTER, AUTHOR OF ‘MORE, PLEASE‘

”I don’t know if the actual content of ED TikTok is worse than pro-ana Tumblr, but its proliferation is undeniably worse. My number-one piece of advice: LEAVE THE ROOM. This could be literal and involve making a quick excuse and walking out when the conversation turns fatphobic or uncomfortably ED-centric, or it could mean forcefully closing a browser or an app if the video that it’s playing is starting to give you gross feelings about your body. Your peace and personal health are worth more than politeness, always.

“Words and phrases I like to watch for and examine include ‘feeling your best’ versus ‘looking your best’; of course, the diet freaks are shrewd and have learned to deploy ‘feeling your best’ as code for maximum thinness, but given the rise of SkinnyTok creators saying the quiet part out loud, I’m grateful for creators who at least nominally address the concept of how you feel in your body being at least as important as how you look in the mirror.”

MIKKI KENDALL, AUTHOR OF ‘HOOD FEMINISM‘

“My turning point was a photo someone took of me, which led to my friends sort of staging an intervention. When you see yourself how other people see you, it can snap you back to reality. After that, I started paying attention to the words used in advice about weight, because people who wanted me to be healthy, wanted me to eat. People enamoured with thinness just kept telling me how great I looked, even when, objectively, I looked ill. The thing about ED culture is that it is woven so deeply into fitness culture that if you aren’t actually pushing back constantly from multiple sides, it can start to sound reasonable.

“Step one is to talk to a professional, whether that is a dietitian or a therapist. Step two is to ask yourself if the influencers you admire have a natural body or a filtered or surgical one. So much of ED content relies on you falling for an unrealistic ideal and then faulting yourself for not being able to live up to an impossible standard. Last, but certainly not least, notice the conversations or content that make you feel bad about your body. You can start by setting a gentle boundary and finish by ending the conversation or using the block button.”

KIRSTEN OELKLAUS, THERAPIST AND CO-FOUNDER OF BELLATORE RECOVERY

“Tumblr’s pro-ana culture was intense, unfiltered, and for many, quite seductive. It became a space where pain and control were expressed through images of thinness, frailty and suffering. It wasn’t just about wanting to be thin but often about wanting to feel in control during a time of deep emotional distress. There was an illusion of community, but it was built around shared self-harm and often became competitive. 

“One turning point for me was realising that the body is often the first place we feel out of balance, but it’s also one of our greatest sources of wisdom. When I notice myself feeling ‘off’ or icky in my body, I try to respond with curiosity instead of criticism. Rather than rushing to fix it, I ask what my body might need. That small, compassionate shift of offering kindness instead of judgment has had a profound impact on how I relate to myself. I also think it’s important to redefine body image. It’s not just about how we look or feel about our physical appearance; it’s about how we experience being in our bodies. It’s the quality of the relationship we have with ourselves through our bodies.

“To tell the difference between healthy eating and disordered content, ask yourself the following: Does it leave you feeling energised and cared for, or ashamed and anxious? Is it flexible and mindful, or rigid and rule-driven? True health isn’t about perfection or punishment. It’s about connection, nourishment, and respect.”