Hungry for Love

This is my personal story!

it took me so many years to share my struggle with Eating disorders.

I was 22 yrs old - Miss Israel and a former model back in the 80's when no one heard of Eating Disorders.The term used is wide for many interpertations , I suffered from Bulemia which is an emotional over eating condition followed by purging- to stay thin. My condition was untreated for many years until I started my mindfulness journey looking for spiritual guidance and self empowerment.  My story has many chapters and here you get a gaze into one of them.

In the late 80's I landed in Tokyo for a promising career as a fashion model - not knowing one single person especially myself. This is a journey which took me into getting to know myself while stripping away fears and a mindset that didnt serve me well. A journey is a never ending road - it just gets better as you have the tools and skills to maintain and love yourself better. 

TOKYO

There is a certain sound that a Capital city makes if you combine the skyscrapers lined along the avenues, the echoes across the concrete buildings with the endless stream of people you will get the exact sound I was hearing while I was walking across the streets of TOKYO. The nights here were filled with blazing neon lights twinkling from the many high sites, telling each their own story, Tokyo at night sparkled like a tempestuous Diamond crown.

It has been over one year since the crown was placed on my head with a promise to reach the stars but climbing up the stairs I could only feel its gloomy emptiness.

 TOKYO IN THE MORNING

Next morning I was getting on and off the intricate paths of the busy Subway on my way to Cinque-Deux -Un my Modelling agency, this commute was exhausting not physically I noted to myself, but emotionally. Nothing here in this city seemed recognizable or intimate-I stepped into the Eastern center of the Fashion world thinking that If I could make it in Tokyo, I could make it anywhere in the world. 

My stream of thoughts is interrupted as as I hear the announcement for Ganza street. I rush out of the automatic doors. Minutes later I am holding my breath and my stomach anxiously while Konami does her job.

“You gained an inch on your waist and 2 inches on your hips, that is no good!” 

Konami says without raising her eyes. She is holding my Modelling chart sizing my latest measurements while I am racing possible scenarios in my head. Was it the late munches or the latest purging to blame for?

 THE MOMENT 

 It is a death sentence that sends me straight to one place. I walk out of the agency’s door with a piece of paper on which Konami wrote my next audition- but I turn to the opposite direction heading towards Mitsukoshi Ginza, where this tiny bakery releases particles of sweet vanilla hanging like Lollypops in the heavy air. 

The delicate Wagashi cakes are lined up on a small tray creating a beautiful display of an imaginary rainbow- I am unable to pick up the colors because I want them all, but after a short debate restrain myself into ordering only one smaller box. “I’ll have three Yakin and three green tea cakes,” I say in a normal voice- not that of a "Food addict", but before the box is sealed, I reached and take the miniature green cake in my hand, chewing it into nothing. I need the next one and the one after to feel its vanishing taste.

THE MOMENT AFTER

I feel better right away but then something dark and heavy invades my world. This is how defeat feels, more like a greasy substance that suffocates your sweet hopes. Part of me wants to tear my body apart so that my soul can flee, I don’t really know where to, nevertheless, I must get a break from my physical body. I look for the nearest restaurant and head directly to the bathroom. I go through my ritual of brushing my teeth, rinsing my mouth, and whipping my face right after it is all over, then I walk away careful not to raise eyebrows on my way out.

My days in Tokyo are filled with the same routine day after day. My eyes by now swollen and red shot from bending over and purging, my skin is gloomy and my throat is itching. Praying is my last resort, so I pray silently for help to find me, not having the courage to ask for it loud.

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