Told to lose body weight
Ididn’t notice my disability when I was younger but as I became older I realised people were looking at me very different to how I looked at myself. Anytime I went through adversity, my twin sister would remind me of who I was. When someone questioned my capabilities, she would gently remind me I could achieve so much more and I just needed to show them.
I think that’s why I became such a successful athlete, because I felt I had something to prove.
I sometimes wonder if I would have become an athlete if I was able-bodied and I don’t think I would have, because I wouldn’t have had to prove myself so much in those early years. I feel lucky to have grown up with a disability. I didn’t know myself any other way and that helped.
I remember going to the 2010 Commonwealth Games in Delhi in India. Back then, people with disabilities were rarely seen in public. I remember walking through the streets and it was like the Red Sea parting – the whole street stopped to stare at this girl with a robot leg. I wasn’t used to that kind of reception.
If I’m walking down the street in Australia now with my dogs, kids will stop to pat my dogs and won’t even look at my leg. I’m seeing the social shift happen in real-time and it’s amazing.
The relationship I had with my body when I was young was very positive, because sport allowed me to explore that a bit more. So I felt very accepting of who I was and what I looked like when I was growing up, but that started to change when I joined a high performance program.
My biggest body struggles came when I joined the AIS.
The way we looked was being critiqued almost daily. If we didn’t meet our coaches’ expectations, we were made to feel like we were doing something wrong.
The first week I got there, my skinfold number was something like 117. Our dietitian said it needed to be below 100: “Most athletes are at about 60”. So I was like, well shit, I’m twice that.
So I changed my eating habits. I started skipping meals entirely and my health really started to suffer, but because I was losing weight I kept pushing through. Before I knew it, I had developed a mild eating disorder.
My skinfolds got under 100 and I was being applauded by my coaches and other athletes. Then I had to get under 80, then 60 – when I got under 40, I stopped getting my period. But I was being celebrated, being told I looked so great and so fit, so I didn’t care even though I was doing serious damage to my body.
I won four gold medals in London. But I was so exhausted afterwards I couldn’t go anywhere near a pool for almost two years. A sports psychologist told me I had PTSD from my experience at the AIS. I didn’t even think the consequences could be mental, but after the Paralympics everything fell apart and the damage had been done.
When I started training with Simon Cusack and Cate and Bronte Campbell, I never had to weigh myself again. Food became a tool, not a big evil that only made you put on weight.
I was eating more than I ever had and I looked fitter than ever before, because I knew how to do it well and how to do it right. That’s when I started getting on magazine covers.
I think it’s important to educate anyone on eating because it’s something you do three, four, five times a day, every day, until you die. And when you’re an athlete it’s even more important, because that’s how you fuel your body for training.
Now that I’ve finished swimming my body has changed so much. It looks less athletic, curvier, and I’m not scared about it. I’m enjoying the change. Even though I might look different to how I did in Tokyo, I’m still the same Ellie underneath.