Going into Penn as a freshman, I had gained a fair amount of knowledge on healthy eating habits. This was only because my senior year of high school was plagued with decidedly unhealthy eating habits—they persisted into my freshman year at Penn. I would restrict my diet so that everything I was eating was “light” or “fat free.” Despite having met with experts on the subject and having gained insight into what real nutrition looks like for someone like me, I was too afraid to let myself become one of the girls who “let herself go” in college by gaining weight. So, I let myself go in another direction.
After a summer of getting closer and closer to recovery and a healthy weight, the pressure of college got to me. I skipped drinking on weekends (mostly) and dodged late–night hall meetings where food was offered in an effort to remain in control. This had two consequences: I lost weight that I did not need to lose, and I lost valuable moments in my freshman fall experience. During moments I could have been bonding with others at parties or late into the hours of the night, I stayed in my room, thinking I was simply doing what I had to do to stay in control.
Diet and exercise are shockingly pervasive in Penn culture. Those of us who go to the gym are praised, and those of us who don’t proclaim ourselves “lazy” despite having spent eight hours in the library that day. Some girls in my pledge class will cheer me on for going to the gym so frequently, but I want to tell them that I go because it’s a compulsion.
When I was in the depths of my worst time at Penn, my dad intervened. We talked about exercise and diet—as a physician and member of Pottruck, he’s noticed a prevalent culture at Penn. Girls want to be thin. Not lean and muscular, but thin.
“Every time I’m in the cardio room, I see about four or five girls on treadmills who I think just should get off,” he said. I thought about it, and realized his words rang true. The degree to which Penn students put pressure on themselves socially and academically transcends from the classroom to the cardio room.
I never realized how much this pressure gets to me. If other girls my age can manage the stress of engineering classes, multiple clubs and organizations, plus a daily four mile run, then I must be able to manage at least a four mile run. Competition is everywhere—whether it’s in a math class where we can only get an A if we “beat” our classmates, or whether it’s at the gym where we must beat the girl next to us.
I’m working on going to the gym to maintain a healthy body and a healthy soul. My relationship with food and exercise is much better than it was last year, but I still have tremendous room for improvement. I’ve promised myself that I would not let the pressure get to me more than it already has. For now, the best I can hope is that I don’t peek over at someone else’s treadmill at Pottruck.
