Hongkonger Miley Millamena is in a good place. The 24-year-old recently landed a dream job as a bartender at Penicillin, in Hong Kong’s Central neighbourhood, and she gets to unleash her creativity as a freelance make-up artist and part-time model. But life was not always so rosy for Millamena, who struggled with depression and eating disorders in her teenage years. She hit rock bottom in 2019 when, aged 18 and weighing just 28kg (62lb), she held a knife to her throat in the kitchen of her parents’ home. Her father intervened, and Millamena was hospitalised for a year after her suicide attempt. Today, at a coffee shop in Central, Millamena can talk candidly about her battle with anorexia nervosa – a condition that causes people to obsess about their weight and food – and bulimia, which is characterised by binge eating followed by self-induced vomiting or fasting to prevent weight gain. By sharing her story, Millamena hopes to destigmatise eating disorders and raise awareness about their grave impact. She says they are not taken seriously in Hong Kong, and the fact that the city lacks official statistics on eating disorders strengthens her claim. “People think it’s just a fad, or about people just wanting to lose weight to look good,” she says. “But it’s not about being vain. It’s a serious mental illness that can affect a person’s life, relationships and career goals, and can lead to other serious illnesses.” Millamena says her eating disorders were her coping mechanisms for family problems and the pressures of school. Her strict mother was a perfectionist who made her feel like a failure. “As a child, I got a lot of negative criticism from my mum so, of course, your upbringing and your environment affect you when you’re older.” A stellar student at an all-girls Catholic school – she was the top of her class in chemistry – Millamena also put pressure on herself. “I was depressed and never thought I was enough. I always wanted to be top, not only in school, but in everything else.” That included how she looked. “When you’re a teenager, all your classmates have boyfriends and they are starting to care about their looks. I looked at myself in the mirror every day and thought, ‘I’m so ugly, I’m so fat.’” Like a growing number of Gen Z’s worldwide, Millamena struggled with her body image, something that was exacerbated by social media. Depressed and anxious about her looks, she had an intense daily workout and a healthy eating regimen. “It started off really well because I could control it,” she says. “I got thinner and thinner, but I still thought it wasn’t enough.” Fixated on losing weight, she swapped studying for workouts. Her grades suffered and sleep was sacrificed. “I would get up at 4am and work out for three hours, then work out in the middle of the day and again after school … I was really drained at school.” Her bulimia intensified towards the end of high school – what used to be compliments about her weight turned to concern, her brother and classmates became worried, and some teachers even got angry. “My teachers would say ‘What has happened to your studies? Why aren’t you concentrating? Why are you skipping classes?’” Her parents accused her of wasting food. “During my binges, I would empty out the fridge and they would be wondering, ‘Where’s all the food?’” she says. It occasionally led to verbal and physical fights. “People kept asking me why I was always tired, why my studies were plummeting, and why I looked skinny in a sickly, unhealthy way?” She could not see it – like many who suffer from an eating disorder, Millamena had a distorted perception of her body. “When I was 28kg, I still thought I was fat,” she says. “I would look in the mirror and pinch my love handles and think ‘I’m still so fat.’ But my bones were sticking out and my jaw was really big, and I had a puffy face from all the puking.” She had scars on her hands from scraping them on her teeth while making herself vomit. She also developed lanugo, a condition in which hair appears on the body – in Millamena’s case, on her back – as a way to insulate against heat loss thanks to extreme malnutrition and low body fat. So disrupted were her hormones that she did not get a period for two years. “I was always weak and would often faint because when you vomit, you lose a lot of electrolytes and [you] dehydrate.” She also developed heart problems. “I experienced a lot of palpitations and couldn’t concentrate.” The confessed “sporty nerd”, who loved gymnastics and running just as much as science, became reclusive, trapped in a binge-and-purge cycle that lasted several years. To Millamena, her year in hospital was a living hell, a stay made worse because she was admitted to the children’s ward and surrounded by crying babies. “It was heartbreaking, because I was supposed to apply to HKU [the University of Hong Kong], ironically to do food and nutrition, but I didn’t get in because I had to stay in the ward for a year to recover,” she says. “I was depressed and crying every day, but no one was there to help me.” Bedridden for the first six months, she was only allowed visits from her parents for two hours a day. “Friends were not allowed to visit for six months, but one gave me the password to their Netflix account, so I watched a lot of movies, which helped improve my English,” says Millamena, who was born in Hong Kong to Filipino parents. “For the first two months, I had to pee in a bedpan and had blood tests three or four times a day,” she recalls. She was on a strict eating plan. “My bones were really weak, and at one point I couldn’t walk. I was really wobbly.” She spent a long time caught in a cycle of invasive negative thoughts that was only broken at the half-year mark, when a friend gave her an eyeshadow palette and some brushes and she started experimenting with make-up. When Millamena checked out of hospital, she weighed 36kg. The road to recovery was difficult, paved with relapses and more family conflict. She went on to study at City University, but dropped out because she was exhausted from working too many part-time jobs to pay for the tuition fees. “And although I was top in class for chemistry, I didn’t see myself sitting in a lab all day doing research. Then, an ex-boyfriend in Canada shared my Instagram with the [Canada-based creative college] JCI Institute and they offered me a full scholarship.” But Millamena turned the opportunity down, instead choosing to become a bartender – something that she felt satisfied her love for art and chemistry. “I love both and I’m good at them.” Today, Millamena is in a happier place. She has found her style via tattoos and piercings, and modelling is a form of self-expression for her – she is signed with Hong Kong agency HK Talents. Her relationship with her parents is better than it used to be, and she has a supportive boyfriend – a chef who shows he cares by cooking for her. “He pushes me to aim higher and push harder, and made me realise that I’m talented and have huge potential … he’s my main motivation and inspiration.” Her relationship with social media has improved, too – “It took me many years to realise how to use it properly” – and her personal and professional growth is now her focus. Her most important piece of advice? Always be yourself. “If people don’t like it, then it’s their problem, because you’re always a full package. But if you feel like you’re not fitting in, you’re just a full package delivered to the wrong address. “Once you start to appreciate the things around you, you’ll be genuinely happy, and that’s when you start focusing on being a good person instead of trying to get validation for the way you look. “Focus on improving yourself, not proving yourself.” Like what you read? Follow SCMP Lifestyle on Facebook, X and Instagram. You can also sign up for our eNewsletter here. If you are having suicidal thoughts, or you know someone who is, help is available. For Hong Kong, dial +852 2896 0000 for The Samaritans or +852 2382 0000 for Suicide Prevention Services. In the US, call The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline on +1 800 273 8255. For a list of other nations’ helplines, see this page