'I told people I was clean eating, but the truth was much worse.'

When Loz Antonenko first stepped into the gym, she wasn't chasing perfectionism or washboard abs — she was running away from pain.

In 2016, Loz's world crumbled after the sudden death of her husband. Grieving, Loz coped the only way she knew how: by staying busy. 

"I went straight into 'doing' mode. I buried my grief in productivity," she told Mamamia.

Loz started taking walks and increasing her physical activity. Those walks soon turned into late-night gym sessions. 

At the gym she met a volunteer who suggested she try lifting weights. "At first, I joked, 'Not if I end up like those sweaty, grunty blokes!'," she said.

But she gave it a shot anyway and something clicked.

"The gym became my anchor. Those same 'grunty blokes' became my unexpected support system," Loz explained. "We talked about goal-setting, nutrition, personal development — things no one in my world had ever talked to me about."

Watch: The difference between intuitive eating and dieting. Article continues after the video.

Within six months, Loz transformed — both physically and mentally. She felt stronger, more capable. She couldn't get enough of the feeling and decided to take it one step further, spontaneously deciding to enter a bikini bodybuilding competition. 

"It felt like something big, something brave, something that would give meaning to all the pain," she said.

She quickly became a high-profile pro athlete. It came with a much more structured regime, involving strict "clean eating". 

"I believe when life zigs too hard in one direction, sometimes you need a big zag to bring you back to centre. Competing was that zag," she said. "I was chasing empowerment — but it quickly became an obsession."

Already managing autoimmune flare-ups with dietary restrictions, Loz adopted a rigid clean-eating diet.

"To me, it meant removing anything processed or unnatural. I thought it was healing, but I later realised it was just another way of trying to gain control — in a life that had become unmanageable."

She followed a meticulous meal plan and by this point, eating out was off the table and social events came with a packed lunchbox. "I lived by the plan and panicked if anything deviated," she said.

Loz was eventually diagnosed with Orthorexia. Image: Supplied

Deep down, she knew something wasn't right, but her body was transforming. And her online following was growing fast.

Behind the curated posts, though, was a woman burning out. "Likes, comments, and shares became addictive. It was unsustainable. I was spiralling," she recalled.

But there came a point when Loz knew she had to get out. Loz says she was proud of how she looked, but that pride had come at a cost. "I lost my joy, spontaneity, and a huge chunk of my mental well-being."

In the end, her body forced her to stop. She quit social media cold turkey. She deleted content, retrained as a personal trainer and group fitness instructor, studied nutrition, CBT and mindfulness.

"I rebuilt myself from the inside out. I turned my pain into purpose," she said.

But even after her final show in 2018, the food anxiety lingered.

A doctor finally gave her experience a name — Orthorexia. "I'd never heard of it, but it described me perfectly," she said.

"Orthorexia is disordered eating dressed up as health. It's the illusion of control, the worship of 'clean,' and the demonisation of flexibility. It's exhausting and dangerous."

Recovery took years. But now she sees how easy it is to fall into obsession under the guise of wellness.

"Wellness culture is full of toxic perfectionism, greenwashed marketing, and moral judgement about food," she said. "Many people think they're being healthy, but they're actually stuck in fear-based control patterns. We need better education and less shame."

"Disordered eating dressed up as health."

While Loz's experience may sound extreme, experts say it's far more common than many realise.

Psychologist and eating disorder credentialed clinician Carly Dober says Orthorexia is best described as "an obsession with eating healthy food". While it isn't yet officially recognised in the DSM — the handbook used by clinicians to diagnose mental illness — she says the condition is "a serious mental health issue that can be disastrous for people."

Estimates suggest orthorexia could affect between one and seven per cent of the global population, though Carly stresses this is difficult to pin down due to the lack of formal diagnostic criteria.

"Orthorexia can be viewed as a socially sanctioned eating disorder," she said. "Society and different subcultures will praise and reinforce the behaviours and thinking that maintains this disordered pattern of eating."

For many, it begins with an innocent intention to improve health. But over time, the focus on "clean" eating can tighten into rules, then rituals, then ultimately, obsession.

"Over time, this focus on clean eating may turn into orthorexia and impact someone's functioning and overall well-being," she said.

And while the body-positivity movement has helped challenge thinness as the only ideal, a new type of pressure has emerged. "The focus on being 'strong' and 'clean' can be just as harmful and risky, especially for vulnerable people," she said.

'The goal posts are always shifting.'

"In our society, the goal posts are always shifting as to what it means to be attractive, healthy and successful, and overt diet culture messaging (such as the thin ideal) has now become disguised as 'wellness', 'healthy' or 'clean' content that is designed to inspire or motivate people to live 'healthier' lives," said Sarah Cox, Clinical Psychologist and the National Helpline Manager for the Butterfly Foundation. 

"In reality, this is just another set of messaging that encourages competition and comparison and causes guilt and shame when people inevitably cannot live up to these unrealistic expectations and ideals."

While there are no current diagnostic criteria for orthorexia, the recognised symptoms of orthorexia go beyond a simple preference and interest in healthy eating. A person with orthorexia may experience the following symptoms:

• Strong anxiety about their food choices, particularly around their diet not meeting their personal high standards of 'purity'

• Excessive and rigid thinking and behaviours regarding healthy foods, nutrition and eating

• Social isolation as a person withdraws from activities and people who do not align with their strict dietary regime

• Extreme feelings of guilt or shame following perceived 'slip-ups'

• Heightened self-esteem when eating foods that are 'healthy'

• Mood swings, anxiety and depression

'I missed family events to stay on track.'

From a young age, influencer Danielle Mitchell was obsessed with changing the way her body looked — an obsession that ultimately led her to the health and fitness industry. 

"It was all about aesthetics," she said. "I wanted to change my body and help other women do the same."

In the beginning, Danielle genuinely believed she was just being "healthy." 

"But what I labelled as clean eating and wellness was actually a cover for disordered eating, and it didn't take long for me to realise how damaging that mindset was, which led me to a very slippery slope," she said.

To ensure she stuck to her regime, Danielle missed birthdays, family events, and friends' milestones. 

At first, Danielle didn't see anything wrong with what she was doing, but then things took a turn for the worse. 

"I'd look at my reflection, overanalyse it for hours until I couldn't look anymore," she said.

When Danielle finally accepted that what she was experiencing was, in fact, disordered eating, she took herself to a GP, who referred her to a psychologist. 

"Therapy helped, but my real turning point came when I decided I wanted to become a mum," she said. "Recovery took years, but that decision gave me purpose and motivation beyond my body."

'A mask for something very unhealthy.'

For Danielle, the wellness industry became a socially acceptable mask for "something very unhealthy underneath". 

"The wellness industry can be life-changing, but it can also be deeply damaging if we're not honest about where the line is between healthy and harmful," said Danielle. "In the past, I helped women change how their bodies looked. But now, as I re-enter the space, my goal is to help women change how their bodies feel.

Danielle is now an influencer encouraging healthy eating without shame. Image: Supplied.

"I want women to learn how to eat, not to diet, to move out of love, not punishment, or to burn off their food. It's about building sustainable habits without guilt, shame, or obsession."

If someone is concerned about their relationships with food and exercise, or they are finding that these behaviours are causing significant disruption to everyday life, it's essential to reach out for professional support as soon as possible. 

"Early intervention can reduce the severity and duration of an eating disorder," said Sarah.

Recovery is possible. Carly encourages anyone experiencing symptoms to seek help from a qualified health professional — ideally someone trained in eating disorders. "People can fully recover and go on to have healthy, balanced relationships with food again," she said. "Early intervention is key."

If you're not sure who to turn to, get in touch with the counsellors on the Butterfly National Helpline for confidential and free advice – Call 1800 ED HOPE (1800 33 4673) or visit www.butterfly.org.au 

Feature image: Supplied.