103 The Silent Pandemics: Eating Disorders and Racism in Lockdown
Meg
On March 13th, 2020, the 10th grade me and my teammates were eagerly waiting at the Buffalo airport terminal gate, preparing to board our flight to Florida for a week-long training camp. Before the 13th there was a buzz about COVID-19, mostly memes on social media and people making light of the situation, however, it was still disconnected enough to laugh at. As a 15-year-old about to go on a week-long vacation with my friends, what a random news page on TikTok said was none of my concern. At the terminal, my friend got an email from her school: “All classes and extracurriculars are cancelled for 2 weeks in light of the COVID-19 public health concerns.” All of the girls, including me, were jumping for joy. We had grown to despise school. We hated waking up to go, we hated seeing everyone, we hated being watched by teachers and forced to participate; this was heaven on earth.
48 hours later, our entire team was packed in the hotel lobby with all our belongings. My coach was giving us our return flight information while all the girls and I were on the verge of tears. It can’t be that serious! I had thought to myself. This must be an overreaction. I was quickly proven very wrong.
I had just finished unpacking after getting back to Hamilton, Ontario when my mom came up to my room. Peering through a crack in the door, a masked face told me I was now required to quarantine in my room for 2 weeks. If I left my room at any point I had to wear a mask and no one could be in the same room as me. I couldn’t touch anything, I couldn’t cook, I couldn’t work, I couldn’t even pet my dog. The thing that was extra tough about my situation at the time was that COVID was still new. Those who remained in the country didn’t have to be isolated yet. I was truly hidden from the outside world while all of my friends and family enjoyed normalcy. It was probably the most mentally taxing thing I have ever been through. You can only watch so many shows and try so many new crafts. But workouts weren’t like TV or crafting— they were indefinite; my desire for the perfect body was indefinite.
Soon after my lockdown was lifted, it became very clear that we weren’t going back to school. Everyone else was now locking down too, regardless of symptoms or travel. Through Twitter, funny enough, I learned that classes would be held online on MS Teams; the school board felt it was only fair to put a cap on our grades. The cap meant no matter what we did, our grades could not go down; they either remained the same or increased. I had already done well enough that I just stopped school altogether. After a brief attempt at keeping my learning on track, the lack of a grade drop fizzled my motivation to zero.
Since we couldn’t hang out with anyone outside our household, I got laid off from my part-time job at Winners, and I wasn’t doing school, I had a lot of extra time on my hands. I had no responsibilities and indefinite time to pick myself apart. I had always been dissatisfied with my body, but brushed it off as not having enough time to workout alongside my rigorous swimming program and my education. I was skinny but lacked muscle; I didn’t like that. I now had time, and in my mind, I felt that meant I was obligated to do something about my dissatisfaction.
I began to work out for hours a day and eat way less. The annoying part is that it worked. I know it worked because I would record myself extensively every day from every angle. My body consumed me and became my livelihood; I was nothing without it. I didn’t have my scholarly accolades or my quick swimming performance to show off. All I had to leverage was my body.
I wasn’t the only person who went through this. TikTok opened me up to a world of women just like me, in the four walls of their room, striving for a societal expectation that would never be met. Many now-grown women including myself described the hyper-awareness of our bodies as our biggest challenge of lockdown. All the time in the world meant no time to waste. The more freedom I had to do what I pleased the more expectations I set for myself. My relationship with food and my body will never be the same because of COVID-19. The challenge that I once faced in seclusion is now faced daily, this time in the open.
On the same note, in a way, my poor relationship with my body during the COVID-19 lockdown allowed me to come out as a more self-aware person. Although I have my struggles, I have done the work and acquired the skills to deal with my disordered eating that I wouldn’t have learned without isolation. So, in a way, my time in isolation broke me down, but the good that came out of it was that I could then build myself back up. I made it through and learned some valuable things along the way that I consistently apply now. Overall, COVID-19 brought me the worst relationship I have ever had with my body but motivated me to overcome my struggles and grow from them moving forward.
COVID-19 originated in China, something that became a source of harm to Asian people living anywhere else. One thing that was undoubtedly clear during my time in lockdown was that racism is alive and well. I can vividly remember opening my phone on multiple occasions to see brutal attacks on Asian elders, some leading to death. The duality of social media at the time was interesting; on one hand, it was used to raise awareness and attempt to combat racism using the #stopasianhate tag. On the other side of social media, others were perpetuating the hate, fully convinced Asian people were to blame. In my opinion, this narrative was HEAVILY influenced by political leaders like Donald Trump. I remember seeing multiple clips of him on social media spreading propaganda. Opening the comments was horrifying- people agreed with him and wanted to act on their discomfort. Asian folks who were born in North America were being told to go back to their country and being blamed for bringing COVID-19 into Canada, meanwhile, they were just as connected to the origin of the virus as the white person targeting them. Even today, in 2025, the effect of Asian hate still trickles into conversation and media. I believe that Asian people will continue to be the laughingstock of the pandemic unless serious societal reform or retaliation occurs —their racism is now normalized indefinitely.