An inteview with Ron Saxen, the author of The Good Eater, who talks with us about his experiences as a good (and not-so-good) eater

New Harbinger Publications: Can you describe your life growing up?

Ron Saxen: My life growing up was a constant pressure cooker. My father was a strict disciplinarian with a heavy hand, and our house was ruled by a strict fundamentalist church that touched every aspect of our life. The two largest clouds over my head were my father’s whippings and the “End Times”—which I was told could come at any moment.

NHP: When would you say your relationship with food began to become unhealthy?

RS: My first memory of a disordered eating act was at the age of eleven. I was lying in bed with sweaty feet and palms waiting for my father to come home to discipline me when remembered I had cases of candy bars meant for the school-candy sale stored in my closet. The next morning, when I buried the wrappers from my three pound feast in the outside garbage can, I knew I had crossed a line.

NHP: As you grew older and your eating habits spiraled out of control, what was the reaction of your family?

RS: When it came to disordered eating, my family was clueless until I wrote The Good Eater. People with binge eating disorder are ashamed of what they do and go to great links to keep it secret. To my family I was just a big eater known for inhaling his food.

NHP: What prompted you to begin your first diet? Did you connect your father’s leaving the family with your weight and bingeing?

RS: Three things prompted me to begin my first diet. In order of importance: First, were hormones and girls—which actually felt like one thing. I figured if I didn’t lose the weight, I’d live my entire life without kissing a girl—really. Second was hearing “fatso” for the first time. And third, I physically felt like I was breaking down. My lower back was killing me, my knees hurt, and I could hardly run.

I did not connect my father’s leaving with my weight or with bingeing. It would take me twenty-five years to fully understand how my eating and my childhood were related.

NHP: What prompted the strict diet that you adopted in early 1984? Could you describe what you would eat on a typical day?

RS: I was at the low end of one my typical yo-yo diets, and, right before I shot back up through my normal over-indulging and wild binges, a customer where I waited tables said, “Are you a model?” Over the next few weeks I heard it again and again. That lead me to go the bookstore where I found a book on male models. It said that I was still twenty pounds overweight. To break through my weight-loss plateau, I kept my daily caloric intake at or below 1000 calories and exercised for three to four hours every day—extremely unhealthy and dangerous.

NHP: What made you consider modeling?

RS: I figured if I was a model, my life would be perfect and all my problems would be solved: I’d get the girl, become famous, and the magic of modeling would be powerful enough to exorcise my insane eating.

NHP: How did you feel at your first modeling job?

RS: It was a mixture of terror (pretty people scared the hell out of me), euphoria (for the obvious reasons), justice (the God’s were paying me back for all my suffering), and a liar (because I really was just a fat person who lost weight).

NHP: Why did you end up giving up modeling?

RS: It wasn’t my choice. As every month ticked by, I became weaker and weaker—the Bad Ron was gaining power. The final straw that broke my back was a request by a director to lose five pounds for a men’s underwear set. That day I pulled the pin on my career and would go on to gain seventy pounds in six months.

NHP: In the book you describe an act of kindness by a stranger in 1995 that you say changed your life. What was it?

RS: In July of 1995, as my sister Robin lay in ICU fighting for her life, the nothingness of my existence and all the living I had wasted came clearly into focus. I hated my life, it seemed that everyone around me only cared about themselves, and the best thing I had was about die. I went through the proper channels and called every person I thought could help, to see if I would be allowed to use sick leave to stay by my sister’s side. I had only tried for four days, but the answer was time and again no. Desperate for a solution, I took a chance the vice president of my company—a powerful woman, a woman I’d never met and never spoken to. Nervous as hell, I placed the call. Without pause she said, “Your place is at your sister’s side. I’ll take care of everything here.”

NHP: How did you meet your current wife, Leslie? How has she changed your life?

RS: Leslie is that same stranger—we were married on Oct 27, 2006, and there really isn’t a word that can describe her positive impact on my life. So, I won’t try.

NHP: What is your relationship with your parents and siblings like now? Have you made peace with your childhood?

RS: Mixed. My family was built on discipline and fear, and that’s not very warm. I don’t speak to my mom or my sister, Rebecca. It’s a long story, but it came to a head because of my sister Robin’s homosexuality. My support and love for Robin is unyielding, and when it comes to choosing sides, it’s not even close. My brothers and I are of course fine. It’s my Dad who’s the big surprise. He’s read the book, and we are in a good place. He made some mistakes—we all do—but he’s had the courage to own up to it. I’m sure it was pretty tough for him, especially with all my feelings about him published in a book for all to see. And yes, I made peace with my childhood long ago. I don’t believe in letting the past affect your today.

NHP: When was the last time you binged? How do you maintain a healthy relationship with food now?

RS: That’s a tough question. The last time I met the DSM-IV criteria for BED was, maybe, seven years ago. If you’re talking a one-time binge, I’d say its been about three years. But still there are times when I have the urge to numb myself with food when stress reaches a boiling point. I’m thinking right now about the interviews—the TV, radio, and print interviews that I’ve needed to do to publicize this book. Sometimes all of the attention kind of freaks me out. I’m happy, though, that the Good Ron is now strong enough to handle the stress the right way—by facing it and working my way through it.

I maintain a healthy relationship with food by attempting to follow the principles of intuitive eating. That and talking, talking, talking!  Yes, my wife, Leslie, is a saint.

NHP: Do you ever worry that you may binge again?