I thought I’d finally found a school that promoted mental health: a home where I could feel safe and accepted regardless of my own struggles. I was ecstatic for Emerson.

 Looking back, I wish I wasn’t as gullible.To suffer from an eating disorder is to suffer from loneliness—I know because I’m recovering from one. Low self-esteem, complex emotions, and exhaustion are chains that clasp around the ankles of those with eating  disorders—binding them to their beds, dorms, or homes in isolation. We don’t have the energy or confidence to live a normal life. We can’t bring ourselves to go out into the world, to interact with loved ones, as our self-loathing prevents us to. We are our own worst enemies.

 Although I didn’t want my eating disorder to define me in college, I did not have the constant support and accountability of my family and friends. I had only myself. My confidence in Emerson College dispelled my fear.

My tour guide praised the college’s care and passion for mental health awareness and the prevalence of eating disorders in college-aged students is, to say the least, appalling. I was optimistic Emerson would offer options for their students suffering from disordered eating. 

According to the Child Mind Institute, 10 to 20 percent of female students and 4 to 10 percent of male students in college suffer from an eating disorder, and these numbers are on the rise. Because of these numbers, I was convinced Emerson had services to aid those with eating disorders. But when I searched “eating disorder support” on Emerson’s website, I was directed to a page of links, phone numbers, and staff.

No explicit resources were made available for individuals seeking support—I did not see the phone numbers or emails of currently staffed dietitians, nutritionists, or counselors, nor did I see the advertisement of on-campus support groups. The list was disappointing. I missed the links the first time, they seemed almost hidden.

On my second search, I found the “Eating Disorders” resources. My heart sank when I saw what was offered. There were only two links—one to the National Eating Disorder Association and the Multi-Service Eating Disorders Association. I decided to go to Harvard’s website to compare student healthcare. I thought other colleges had this same lack of resources for people with eating disorders. 

I searched for the same term and was bombarded by links, phone numbers, and staff—all of which were explicitly related to eating disorder awareness and treatment.

Harvard offers Empower: Food and Body Workshop, for those who struggle with an eating disorder, body image, or their relationship with food. The workshop, is “a four-session workshop series [that] introduces you to food and body image skills.” The college also has a hotline for students to call if they are concerned about themselves or others as well as a team of seven faculty members and trainees called STRIPED whose sole duty is to prevent eating disorder behaviors at the school.

Their page provides many resources, phone numbers, email addresses, and news articles as methods for prevention.

 My research led me to believe Harvard was the exception, that Emerson couldn’t be the only college with such a lack of resources for disordered eating.

I was disproved when I scoured the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s medical site and found detailed support students could seek. Making Peace with Food is a support program where students can learn to love themselves and improve their relationship with food. An entire page of MIT’s medical website provides resources, such as the aforementioned support group, podcasts like Food for Thought that discuss eating disorders, and an Eating Concerns page that includes on-campus resources.

Instead of just one dietitian—as is the case with Emerson—MIT has mental health providers who specialize in eating disorders, including nutritionists, wellness coaches, and educators. Emerson does not have any support groups for those suffering from eating disorders. Emerson does not have an “Eating Concerns” page dedicated to providing resources and help for people like me. Emerson does not have a team of specialists whose sole job is to prevent others from harming themselves—from isolating themselves. Emerson just has two links.

While writing this article, I made several attempts to contact the Health and Wellness Center. I wanted to interview a member of the Center and discuss and clarify the current on-campus resources for individuals with eating disorders.

Compared to Harvard and MIT’s websites, Emerson’s is extremely confusing to navigate. I cannot simply look up “eating disorder support” and be brought to helpful, navigable pages of links, contacts, and information. Instead, I am brought to a page of links where I must shift through relevant and irrelevant links and scroll for information.

Once the Health and Wellness Center responded to my emails—I sent my information and request form three times over the span of the weekend; the Center responded on Monday—Maya Nakkoul, a member of the Health Services team, told me I could not meet with Emerson’s dietitian, Kim Minogue, because they are out. I contacted them too late. I have to wait until the dietitian returns to campus.

 Emerson College needs to change this lack of care. Eating disorders are prominent and life-threatening and schools like Emerson—with a meager supply of resources—allow them to fester and grow in their student populations. Those with eating disorders deserve more than two links. We deserve better.

Show us that you care deeply about your students and their well-being. Show us that you prioritize mental health. Host workshops that teach us to love and nurture ourselves. Form support groups for those with eating disorders—and for those who suffer from other disorders and mental illnesses, since Emerson has no support groups for them as well. Create a team of dietitians and specialists, not just one dietitian. 

Don’t make your tour guides give empty promises.