More often than not, when people see a skinny teenage girl, they immediately assume she has anorexia. Being thin and having this mental illness have become synonymous in many minds, and consequently, avoiding the label is impossible. If there is no physical answer for weight loss, such as an observable disease or bodily degeneration, the cause will be deemed as psychological – a disease of the mind rather than a disease of the body.

I read Isla Cowan’s article and it made me realise that it’s time to talk about my own experiences, with the hope that by writing it down, others will be inspired and motivated to voice their own stories.

During my A Levels at college, I lost a lot of weight very quickly, dropping to 35kg from 50kg over two months. I was never slender in childhood, never worried about my weight and was quite happy with how I looked. That all changed when I was admitted to hospital in Lower Sixth, assumed to be just another girl with an eating disorder. I remember, the first time I had to stay overnight in hospital, the nurses whispering “there goes the anorexic” and “watch that one at supper” before an official diagnosis had been made. There was no escaping the label, but I wasn’t anorexic and didn’t have an eating disorder.

I had a large but healthy diet and I was, and still am, a chocoholic, having a long-standing relationship with Ben and Jerry. The doctors, after scrutinising my eating behaviour, eventually concluded that I was eating enough, so they stuck me with another label; bulimia. I was not allowed to go to the bathroom on my own and I was under the watchful eye of my teachers and parents, told to look out for “suspicious” behaviour.

It took me three years to convince the hospital that I did not have an eating disorder – wasted time that could have been spent finding the real cause. I lived off a diet of burgers and pies but I could not put on weight; there was no obvious reason for my substantial weight loss or inability to gain weight. Once fMRI-scanned, poked, prodded, ultrasounded and tested for unpronounceable diseases, eventually a reason emerged. It was rooted in my psychology, but I did not have an eating disorder. I had an addiction: an addiction to work.

I have always been a hard worker, but I discovered that this had come at a cost to my health. Work had become my life; I couldn’t think about anything else, and I knew it was causing me unneeded stress and completely ruining my sleep and social life. I am sure many people have had similar experiences, especially at universities like Cambridge, where enough is never really enough and there is always a way to go farther and work harder. The stress had become too much for my body and, slowly, it was turning me into a walking skeleton.

In the holiday before Cambridge I stopped work. I completely relaxed and my weight went up significantly. I started in September with the belief that I was strong enough to handle the stress by myself and not succumb to my addiction. This did not translate, and although I could not recognise it, my friends and family could and I was sent back to the doctors. I was admitted into Addenbrookes and the whole cycle started again: with a BMI of 13, anorexia was deemed the only culprit and another big fat label was stuck on me, with no sign of it losing any stickiness.

Now, with increased awareness about last few years, the doctors have finally started to see my condition for what it really is. I am getting the right support without the automatic assumption that I have an eating disorder, but, the label remains unavoidable in everyday life.

I want people to understand the effects of labelling and how sometimes things may not be as they outwardly appear. The stress of work can act out differently for different people, but it is vital that we recognize this and tailor our support to individuals. I was lucky to have people in my life to tell me when enough was enough, because I was blinded by wanting to excel in my subject and putting my health on the side.

Now I am putting my health before my work, but it’s difficult and I would not be able to do it without the help of my college and family. I love Cambridge, I love my subject and I do love to work, so maintaining a balance is challenging. When you see a skinny girl, please don’t just assume; everything that glitters is not gold and every skinny girl has a story to tell.