I've Seen Thinner
by Fritz Liedtke
July 15, 2008
An Introduction to Skeleton in the Closet, by Artist Fritz Liedtke
"I've seen thinner." The woman looking at these photographs paused, closed the book.
"It's true," I replied. "Some of these men and women are healthy now. Some are very sick, and yet look healthy. Some, even with anorexia and bulimia, can be quite heavy. And some people who look quite normal—people you know, even—have an eating disorder hidden in their history."
. . .I've seen thinner.
We all have: the emaciated actresses, the walking skeletons, the withering models. Many of the women and men in this series have looked this way before; some still do. Beneath the layers of clothing and confusion is skin stretched over bones, which they are loathe to reveal. They have, as it were, a skeleton in the closet.
These photographs are about normal people, people like me. I attended college right out of high school. During that first winter away from home, I began to find myself depressed, lonely, and in poor physical condition. This went on for some time until, finally, at the college nurse's suggestion, I went to talk with someone in the counseling center. The gentleman there was gracious, asked good questions, and listened well. Over the course of the next few months, we were able to unravel the tangle of my thinking, and along the way discovered that, among other things, I was anorexic.
That word hit hard. I had never really thought about anorexia, and certainly never thought of myself as someone susceptible to it. I had assumed that eating disorders were for women who didn't like their appearance. With some research, however, I discovered that anorexia is more about issues of control, which did apply to me. I was a quiet, intelligent achiever, and I didn't want anything to get in my way—least of all food and thoughts of food. While I only dealt with this issue for a year early on in life, many people struggle with it for the rest of their lives.
This body of work is about normal people, who sit down with me over coffee, and pour out their secrets: abuse, neglect, insecurity, cruel and thoughtless words, terrible things they've done to their bodies and families, the results, the healing process, the enduring ache within. They tell me, a complete stranger, things they have told no one else. I am their confessor, their confidant, their priest.
I've seen thinner isn't merely a phrase uttered by those who view this work; it is also the mantra of those who suffer from eating disorders. It is their constant obsession, the drive behind their intense efforts to control their lives and minds and bodies. They've seen thinner models, actresses, parents, friends; they've seen themselves thinner when they were younger; they've seen thinner clothes; they want to fit in. They want it so badly that some are willing to die for it. Even the briefest perusal of pro-anorexia literature reveals how driven, competitive, disciplined, and anxious these people are. Their walls are often plastered with glossy prints of thin models, their floors littered with magazines, diet books, exercise equipment, and scales. They've seen thinner, and it is their promised land, just a few more pounds away.
In a society saturated with shallow, narrow definitions of beauty, anorexia is an increasingly prevalent trend. Movie stars, magazine ads, Atkins diets, internet pornography, fashion models, MTV...the pressure to look thin and attractive is an oppressive force that is difficult to resist. Everyone wants to be an American Idol. But obsession with appearance is not the only motivation for restrictive eating. Dancers, gymnasts, wrestlers, and others, find themselves in unhealthy eating patterns in order to stay competitive. Ultimately, the disorder is really a means for controlling one part of a person's world.
Conservative estimates suggest that three out of every one hundred Americans have eating disorders. Approximately 8 million women and girls and 1 million men and boys suffer with anorexia in the United States alone. While anorexia affects females from 6-76, it is primarily confined to the domain of adolescents. One percent of female adolescents in America—one in one hundred—struggle with it.
Bulimia affects another 1% of American women. Four percent of all college age women struggle with this disorder; 30% of all American women dieters practice binge eating.
These disorders are a silent epidemic; they are rarely discussed, fraught with shame, and often go undetected in those who suffer with them. Of those who do not seek treatment, twenty percent may die.
In the end, however, anorexia and bulimia are not about numbers or statistics. They are about individual people, each one with a name and a face and a home, struggling for control over their bodies and minds and lives. Their stories include their families, friends, counselors, classmates, their spouses and children. These are the stories I am here tell, stories of normal people like you and me.
Viewed together, these small stories combine to make a single whole, as small chapters make for a larger narrative. Themes emerge, similarities. Perhaps the clearest theme is also the simplest, one which every normal person would acknowledge: the desire to be known and loved for who we are....View Exhibit
*All text is copyright 2008 by Fritz Liedtke, and is not to be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.
