Exercise benefits body and mind—until it turns into an obsession. Anne Haakmeester, 32, a certified nutrition consultant and health coach, shares her firsthand experience: "I skipped parties and nights out with friends. My life revolved around training, eating, and sleeping. Rinse and repeat."
At 11, I first stepped on the scale. As the tallest girl in class with broad hips and shoulders, I stood out—and at that age, I wanted to blend in. Though not overweight, I sought a dietitian's guidance. My supportive parents hoped it would boost my confidence and help me feel at ease in my skin.
The dietitian's advice worked; I achieved a healthy figure. But by 13 or 14, my focus shifted to magazine and TV models—ultra-thin ideals like size zero. That became my distorted beauty standard.
To get there, I hit the gym. As a 14-year-old among grown men, I lifted weights without proper form, convinced I was on track. Meanwhile, my eating habits spiraled: skipping meals, scouring pro-ana sites, logging every bite in a notebook I still keep as a stark reminder.
Remarkably, it went unnoticed for years. At home, I ate family dinners to hide my restrictions. Friends had no clue. Living independently made extremes easier—intense workouts, minimal food.
Daily gym sessions became mandatory for the 'perfect' body. I'd cycle 30 minutes to the gym, take two hour-long classes, then cycle home—nearly every evening. I grew stronger, then eyed the Flex Cup fitness competition.
With a year to transform from 'fit' to bodybuilder-ready, I ramped up: minimal body fat, obsessive eating and training. Social life vanished; my world was workouts, meals, rest. A choice then, but now I recognize its unhealthiness. Loved ones admired my discipline yet likely worried—I ignored their subtle cues.
Positively, I trained as a nutrition consultant, learning what fuels peak performance. Realizing severe restriction hindered progress, my eating improved. Exercise obsession lingered.
After a year, I had a competition-ready physique: super-muscled, ultra-lean, narrow waist, broad upper body. I posed at fitness expos, shot with pros, competed—second in my debut, eighth after category upgrade. It hit me: total exhaustion for subpar results?
I collapsed—call it burnout. Chronic hamstring attachment inflammation and knee injury from overload compounded it. A psychologist diagnosed my eating disorder, validating what I'd long suspected. As a health coach advising balance, nutrition, and body attunement, I finally applied it to myself. Therapy broke the cycle. After 20 years chasing perfection, I'm content as I am.
Now, I train 4-5 days weekly, walk often, eat mostly healthy—with occasional pizza or chocolate. Some weeks, no gym; I stroll beaches or city streets instead. Movement keeps me grounded and joyful. Vigilance remains against old tendencies, but excess is off the table. Fitness and nutrition are joys, not mandates.
I once tied happiness to size zero or ultimate fitness. Now I know: no body fixes inner discontent. You'll chase 'perfection' endlessly. Balance and mindset are key.
This journey's greatest lesson? True body love stems from self-acceptance first. I share this on Instagram and blogs: thinness or fitness alone won't fulfill—cultivate your mind. I'm the role model I needed, steering others from my missteps.
In her Fit & Fabulous handbook, Anne Haakmeester draws on her expertise in nutrition, training, and mindset. Get practical dos and don'ts for genuine fit & fabulous living.
Read also: How do you know when exercise turns into an addiction?
This article previously appeared in the July 2018 issue. Text: Rianne Sepers | Image: Getty Images
