How I Made Peace With Weight Gain as an Autistic Person Recovered From Anorexia

In Part 1 and Part 2 of this series, we explored the complex relationship between autism and fear of weight gain. We discovered that while many autistic people do fear weight gain, it's rarely about body image or wanting to be thin. Instead, it's about sensory overwhelm, unpredictability, identity, and finding safety in an overwhelming world. We looked at eight specific reasons why weight gain can feel so threatening when autism and eating disorders intersect. Now, in this final part, I want to share something deeply personal: how I actually made peace with weight gain. Not through conventional body positivity or exposure therapy, but through a completely different perspective that changed everything for me – a perspective that I’ve found particularly resonates with the autistic mind.

Anorexia’s Illusion of Control

While my eating disorder never started as a means to lose weight, it became a convenient way to "protect" myself from the overwhelming experiences discussed in Part 1 and Part 2. Being able to maintain my childhood clothing size and having all my clothes fit loosely felt like the perfect solution. I thought I had found a way to keep my sensory world manageable and predictable.

The protection that my eating disorder provided me was all an illusion. Sure, I believed I was in control of my body; but was I really in control if I was a slave to fear? Are you really in control if your life is defined by strict rules? What about constantly being consumed by mental hunger? If we could really control our bodies, we wouldn't experience any of the side effects that accompany restriction.

At the time of my eating disorder, none of my actions stemmed from love or compassion for myself or others. Every behavior was an act of avoidance – avoidance of physical sensations, avoidance of emotions, avoidance of trusting myself and the Universe. I believed that as long as I avoided the aspects of life I didn't want to be confronted with, I wouldn't have to. Just like many autistic people who develop eating disorders, the system of rules and restrictions that were once a safety box had turned into a prison.

When My Body Reclaimed Control

The moment you realize you’re not actually in control is often the precursor to a new form of entrapment: quasi recovery. You know, the period of wanting to recover, of wanting a new identity, but being held back by all the fears that accompany weight gain. Quasi recovery is so painful precisely because you know your state is a choice. Unlike immersion in the eating disorder which is a full on illusion, quasi recovery comes with the awareness that you’re choosing the illusion.

What definitely wasn’t a choice was when extreme hunger joined the chat. If you’ve read my memoir Rainbow Girl, and I obviously expand on this in How to Beat Extreme Hunger, this experience was nothing short of terrifying – especially from a weight gain perspective. As my body took over, I lost any sliver of control I thought to have left. For months on end, I craved and ate nothing but "junk food,” that is to say. all the foods I had labeled as forbidden.

Extreme Hunger While Weight Restored

What often exacerbates the physical frustrations around extreme hunger – including, but not limited to feeling like a human trash can and the sensory overload of being overly full – is the mental resistance due to already being weight restored.

As is the case for most people in anorexia recovery, I wasn’t hit by the extreme hunger bomb until I was at a “healthy weight” according to BMI. This fact of no longer being underweight led me to believe my body was broken, and I was now “swinging to the other side” and developing binge eating disorder.

Coping with Weight Gain in Anorexia Recovery

So after each feast, I told myself "Today is the last time I binge." Every morning, I vowed to "start fresh." But these plans crumbled as quickly as the cookies that I shoved into my mouth by the dozens, followed by jars of peanut butter, family-sized pies and cakes from the bakery, and everything else that had been off limits for years.

The weight gain was inevitable. There was truly nothing I could do to stop it, as my previous restriction tactics no longer worked. The grief that accompanied no longer being able to restrict after anorexia only intensified the discomfort of my rapidly changing body. I felt utterly powerless. And the truth is, I was – I was powerless against the laws of nature, just like we all are.

An Ecological Approach to Body Acceptance

While I didn’t know it at the time, it was this very realization of being one with nature that allowed me to make peace with weight gain and ultimately accept this new, different, and healthy body. To elaborate: I no longer view “my body” as mine. I no longer view this vessel that I inhabit as my possession. Instead, I understand that this body is an essential aspect of the Universe at large – a coalescence of energy that is currently channeled as a human being.

This shift in perspective addressed many of the fears discussed in Part 2. The sensory challenges? They're information my soul is processing through the filter of a body, not good or bad experiences. The unpredictability? It's in fact the only predictable aspect of being human. And the identity crisis? Well, the word “crisis” originally stems from the ancient Greek words κρίσις (krisis) and κρίνω (krinō), meaning “to decide” and “turning point.” So, I literally decided to turn the weight gain into my turning point for creating a new identity – an identity that aligned with my true values.

Body Love or Body Neutrality?

Here's what I want you to know: you don't have to go from "hating" your body to "loving" your body because your body isn't "good" or "bad." Your body just is, similar to how a tree is a tree and a stone is a stone. Just like we don't need to love the trees outside or love the stones in our yard, being at peace in your body doesn't mean you have to love it. True peace is being free from judgment. It means viewing the world with a sense of curiosity and gratitude, rather than focusing on the limitations that come from labels. For autistic individuals who often think in black and white, this middle path of acceptance can be revolutionary.

In conclusion, there's a beautiful irony in how I made peace with weight gain. The very trait that made recovery feel impossible – my autistic way of seeing patterns and seeking order in the world – ultimately became my path to freedom. By stepping out of the "love your body" narrative and into a more objective, nature-based perspective, I discovered a way to exist that doesn't require a constant battle with myself. For those still in the depths of their eating disorder: your fear of weight gain makes sense. Your need for safety is valid. AND there's another way to find that safety. Your body isn't a problem to be solved or a project to be loved. It's simply part of the universe expressing itself through you, sensory challenges and all.