The Rise of Eating Disorder Influencers: How TikTok is Glamorising EDs
Content moderation on social media has been a hot topic for over a decade. With the rise of TikTok and short-form video content, the algorithms know us better than ever. Hesitate too long on a video, pause, re-watch, search – it sees you. The question is, while the algorithm is great when you’re seeing endless videos of cats, what if the content you linger on is harmful to yourself or others? The algorithm cannot and does not discriminate.
Cases such as that of Molly Russell, the British schoolgirl who died by suicide in 2017 after seeing images of self-harm online, increased awareness of the need for greater accountability when it comes to social media content. However, we are still woefully behind on moderating harmful content.
More than a dozen states in the US have recently sued TikTok, accusing the social media platform of driving a mental health crisis among teenagers. TikTok is also being sued by seven families in France, who accuse it of exposing their children to harmful content - leading two to take their own lives, and one who developed an eating disorder. After backlash, TikTok blocked dieting ads for anyone under the age of 18, and recently banned searches for the hashtag #Skinnytok – a rebrand of early Tumblr’s “thinspo.” But this is not enough. They are still criticised for allowing filters that mimic plastic surgery to be available for children, something that Instagram has limited.
Aside from accounts directly promoting disordered eating, TikTok has seen a surge of ED ‘recovery’ accounts, with creators sharing their lives and, therefore, illness, online. The vast majority of these accounts claim to be there to display their journey to recovery, hold themselves accountable and to ‘inspire’ and ‘help’ others. This poses a dilemma for content moderation. While some triggering content is banned outright, posts showing extreme thinness often slip through, which are just as harmful but less policed. While low weight may not count directly as self-harm, low weight in combination with ED content can be triggering. Therefore, why don’t social media platforms treat it that way? Social media draws hard lines on some harms, but when it comes to ED content, the rules blur – leaving triggering posts to thrive in a grey area.
BEAT, the UK’s largest eating disorder charity, explains that people living with eating disorders can be particularly vulnerable when exposed to content showing others who are unwell or underweight. For those with anorexia nervosa, images or videos of very low-weight bodies can be especially harmful - triggering comparisons, reinforcing restrictive thought patterns, and ultimately perpetuating the illness. Anorexia Nervosa feeds on control and restriction, driven by a craving for external validation of thinness. What begins as a pursuit of safety and control can quickly become an all-consuming obsession with food, weight, and the relentless fear of gaining weight – spiralling into a dangerous cycle that’s hard to escape.
Sadly, many of these accounts feature severely underweight individuals who are clearly still in the depths of an eating disorder, displaying various restrictive tendencies. I appreciate the need to find a community online, but due to the sly nature of eating disorders, particularly Anorexia, and its history with pro-ana sites, I don’t believe such content can ever be conducive to recovery. Recovery is not linear, and often not a destination easily demonstrated without causing harm along the way. These accounts promote unhealthy habits in unstoppable, constant and addictive short videos, dressed as granola and low-fat yoghurt. Spending any amount of time in an echochamber of content related to these thoughts makes the cycle even harder to break. French dietician Carole Copti commented that patients are ‘completely indoctrinated’ and that a ‘45-minute weekly consultation is no match for hours on TikTok’.
Other triggering content includes “What I eat in a day for recovery” videos - usually showcasing small, low-fat, high-protein meals, so-called inspirational transformations comparing extreme thinness to weight restoration, or even clips of girls crying through meals in school uniforms. Even creators who have regained their weight continue to post old videos of themselves at their lowest weight. What is the motive here? Sharing recovery content while – intentionally or not – promoting behaviours they claim to be helping resolve. Recovery or not, the effect is the same - triggering content packaged as inspiration. The real question: is this recovery, or just disordered behaviour rebranded for views?
While many creators may not intend harm, some do bear responsibility for avoiding posting content they know could be damaging. I know people who have chosen to delete past posts once they recovered enough to recognise their impact. But should the burden really fall on those battling a life-threatening mental illness to protect others? Especially, when a known trait of the disorder is to deny having a problem.
Anorexia is not something to be underestimated or dismissed as a disorder for wealthy models. AN has the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric disorder, and rates are increasing. The prevalence of eating disorders in 17 to 19-year-olds rose from 0.8% in 2017 to 12.5% in 2023. The prevalence of eating disorders in 11 to 16-year-olds increased from 0.5% in 2017 to 2.6% in 2023 (NHS). Therefore, triggering ED content is something we really need to get a handle on regarding social media. Why are platforms still behind when lived experience shows the so-called recovery community often does more harm than good? Comment sections on underweight videos are flooded with pleas to take them down, yet the content stays up. If audiences can see the damage, why can’t the platforms?
The case of Eugenia Cooney highlights an adjacent issue. A popular YouTuber living with anorexia, her videos aren’t about eating disorders or food, yet millions have watched her waste away over the years. Her appearance is routinely lifted from her content and repurposed on harmful accounts as inspiration for disordered habits. In 2016, a Change.org petition titled "Temporarily Ban Eugenia Cooney off of YouTube" went viral and received 18,000 signatures, although it was later removed for "violating community guidelines". Currently, she has 2.8 million followers on TikTok watching her fade away, desperately imploring her to seek help and openly wondering when they will lose her. It is heartbreaking to watch; she is obviously very ill and not to blame. But is this not self-harm? Should this content be stopped, and if so, whose responsibility is this? On the other hand, why should she not be allowed to produce content and do what she loves? TikTok has made its position clear - inviting her to their headquarters earlier this year. Most comments on Eugenia Cooney’s videos come from distressed fans, many checking in just to see if she’s still alive. She never addresses these concerns, and while she’s simply making the content she loves, her videos remain deeply distressing for everyone and raise difficult questions about what platforms should allow.
TikTok officially prohibits content that promotes or glorifies eating disorders and enforces this ban through both human and AI moderation. However, the system fails - moderators frequently miss what’s truly harmful in this context. What’s the real difference between an underweight photo labelled thinspo and the same photo labelled recovery? For those with lived experience, both can be equally triggering. And on a platform built to keep users scrolling in an endless loop, that kind of content doesn’t just waste time - it feeds a deadly disorder.
To me, the responsibility is clear. Creators may not always recognise the harm their posts cause - anorexia distorts judgment, making it difficult both to stop sharing and to resist consuming triggering content. That’s exactly why the burden must fall on platforms, and they must seek advice to do this correctly. Social media decides what fills our feeds, and it’s time they took that power seriously, as rates of eating disorders continue to increase. People with eating disorders need support, not algorithms that feed the illness. This isn’t a grey area - it’s a danger, fuelling the deadliest of mental health disorders
Written by Abby Allwood
Abby Allwood is a writer whose interests blend scientific work in the medical technology industry with more right-brain pursuits in handmade arts and crafts. She loves traveling the world, and capturing moments on analog film.
