Chicken Tenders Saved My Life, or: The Unspoken Reality of Appetite Loss for Former Athletes

CW: ED

Relegation 

What no one told me about leaving soccer was how much food would become my entire world. 

My freshman year, I had one of the slowest mile times on my team, but was the #1 female bench presser in all of women’s athletics. If there’s one thing I knew back then, it was that I wasn’t the best soccer player, but I was never going to be outworked in the weightroom. And, though my weight ballooned far beyond the requisite “Freshman 15,” I really didn’t mind. Really. I was strong. My body could do almost anything (just not running, lol). 

When my concussions led to me quitting soccer, I was already several months into watching my muscle soften before my eyes. I was both eating emotionally to cope, and eating like I was still working out twice a day. Slowly, though, my appetite all but disappeared. 

Without my sport or the ability to work out in any meaningful capacity, I started getting anxiety attacks. Anxiety roiled around in my stomach and made me feel nauseous. That, paired with my mind convincing myself I didn’t need to eat as much as I did when I was an athlete, led to a steady decline in my health. I’ll spare you what my daily intake looked like…

After fainting in acting class one day, I was (sort of involuntarily) set up with a food therapist who told me that I exhibited signs of disordered eating. It didn’t make sense to me. I’d never counted a calorie, or denied myself a meal - I just wasn’t hungry. I (regrettably) had one stereotypical view of what ED looked like and had no idea how bad my situation had gotten. And, ironically, the narrow subset of super health foods I could stomach were only making my concussion symptoms worse - I just didn’t know it at the time. 

Regulation

Spoiler alert: I’m in recovery. And yes, it’s thanks to chicken tenders. 

In my hardest semester of school, I started a job in the theater set shop. On any given day, I was suspended in the air hanging lights, cutting and drilling together sets, or painting floors. I discovered a love of power tools (so gay, I know… I’ve been trying to tell y’all). 

Halfway through my shifts, with my mind occupied and feeling truly happy, I would start to feel… hungry. I am so grateful for my bosses that semester, who knew my situation and encouraged me to leave whenever I needed to get a snack. That semester, I started having a full plate of chicken tenders every day, about halfway through my shift. The grace and understanding I was shown led me back to protein, which began to snowball into oatmeal and bananas, and other foods that could actually sustain me. 

Now, five years later, I have days where I feel the old nausea trying to bubble up. I have the same intrusive thoughts telling me I’m not hungry. Sometimes, I even opt for foods I can drink, so I don’t have to chew and think too hard about it. But, I’ve forgiven my younger self for doing the best she could in the midst of a HUGE life shift. 

So, if there’s one thing I can offer anyone going through something similar: Now is temporary. Food is fuel. Recovery is possible. Love is love is love is love. And love (for yourself, from your community, for chicken tenders) is enough.

As always,

Stephanie