UK First: Univa and First Steps ED Go Live with the First Digital Stepped Care Pathway for ARFID, Significantly Reducing Waiting Times

11th August 2026, Hertfordshire, UK. Univa, the digital health company transforming eating disorder care, and First Steps ED, one of the UK’s leading eating disorder charities, today announced the launch of the UK’s first digital stepped care pathway for Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID). The pathway is now integrated into existing care pathways in Hertfordshire, expanding a partnership that began with the organisations’ pioneering primary care pilot for eating disorders in 2025.

The launch marks a first for the NHS. No stepped care model – one that starts with the least intensive intervention, escalating for those that need it – for ARFID has ever been delivered digitally at this scale, and no ARFID pathway has been able to offer families support so soon after they are referred. From go live, every family referred into the pathway begins evidence-based care quickly. This significantly reduces waiting times, typically bringing them down to about a week for the triage process, after which access to care is given immediately.

 

A solution to one of the fastest growing pressures on children’s mental health services

Community eating disorder services (CEDS) estimate ARFID now accounts for 40 to 50 per cent of their referrals, yet most Trusts and ICSs have no dedicated ARFID pathway. Children and young people with ARFID present through many doors at once: CAMHS, CEDS, paediatrics, neurodevelopmental services, learning disability services, Mental Health Support Teams in schools, and GPs. Too often they are bounced between services while their needs escalate. Specialist ARFID clinicians are scarce, access varies widely by geography, and there have been few scalable early intervention programmes for services to step families into.

National eating disorder guidance for children and young people now asks ICBs and CEDS to provide ARFID provision. The Univa and First Steps ED pathway gives commissioners a way to meet that requirement without building a large new workforce, without new rooms or infrastructure, and without adding to clinician caseloads.

 

How the digital stepped care pathway works

Families are referred through a single online portal by GPs, schools or Trust teams – whichever door they already use. Every family receives an initial triage call from First Steps ED, whose trained team screens each referral for clinical risk and safeguarding needs, before seamlessly transitioning to Univa for an automated, needs-led assessment, with results reviewed by the First Steps ED team. Built on the PARDI-AR-Q, the assessment identifies each child’s core ARFID drivers, whether sensory sensitivity, fear of adverse consequences or low interest in food, alongside an automatically calculated nutritional deficiency profile.

Every family then starts care instantly on the Univa Care Platform through a carer led app-based programme, open to any child or young person under the age of 18. The parent or carer leads the programme, with carer and child working through the app together. The self-guided programme runs for 10 weeks, with modules that adapt to the needs of each child, including tailored content for autistic children and those with ADHD, built on FBT ARFID, CBT ARFID, the New Maudsley Model and real-world clinical experience. A personalised food exposure engine uses playful, gamified experiments that move at each family’s pace.

The clinical intelligence sits in the pathway engine. Wellbeing check ins, routine outcome measures and engagement data flow continuously from the app. Where the data shows a service user needs more, a step up is flagged automatically and reviewed by First Steps ED team, who confirm every escalation decision. The family then transitions seamlessly, inside the same app, to up to ten one-to-one video sessions with trained First Steps ED Specialist Support Officers. Many families will have their needs fully met by the self-guided programme, and those that need one-to-one support will receive it in a way that streamlines resources. Throughout the pathway, First Steps ED provides the triage, safeguarding, specialist support, escalation and clinical oversight.

The pathway does not replace urgent medical or specialist mental health support. Where a child needs that care, First Steps ED escalates to the appropriate service without delay.

This is what makes the model uniquely scalable and cost effective for the NHS. Thousands of families can start care on the same day without increasing clinician caseload, while specialist capacity is concentrated on complexity. The result is a dramatically lower cost per successful outcome and a pathway that stays sustainable as demand grows.

 

Delivering the 10 Year Health Plan in practice

The pathway is a working example of all three shifts set out in Fit for the Future, the 10 Year Health Plan for England: from hospital to community, from treatment to prevention, and from analogue to digital. Care reaches families in their homes, intervenes before needs escalate to crisis, and is delivered through a digital backbone that gives clinicians live visibility of every family in the pathway.

 

Rich Andrews, CEO and Co-Founder of Univa, said:

“Commissioners tell us the same thing everywhere: ARFID demand is rising fast, it surfaces across every children’s service, and there is no workforce to meet it. This pathway answers that. One shared ARFID engine that makes every service in a Trust or ICS ARFID-ready, with care that starts soon after a family is referred. This has never been done before in the NHS, and it changes what commissioners can expect from an eating disorder pathway: immediate access, measurable outcomes and a cost base that scales.”

 

Daniel Magson, CEO of First Steps ED, said:

“Families affected by ARFID have too often been passed between services with nowhere designed for them. Our partnership with Univa in Hertfordshire means that ends. Every family gets support straight away, and our specialists step in exactly when a child needs more intensive help. This is stepped care as it should be: needs-led, fast and built around the family. It is an exciting next chapter in a partnership that has already shown what digital innovation and clinical expertise can achieve together.”

 

Built on a proven partnership

The launch builds on the partnership announced in September 2025, when Univa and First Steps ED brought the first digital dual care programme for eating disorders into NHS primary care, backed by six Primary Care Networks across Hertfordshire. That pilot established the clinical model, the referral relationships and the trust between the two organisations that now underpin the ARFID pathway. Together, the two programmes point to a new national model for eating disorder care: digital first, family powered and clinically assured.

 

Information for NHS commissioners and Trusts

The ARFID care programme is designed to be commissioned as one ARFID capability across an entire Trust or ICS footprint. NHS commissioners, ICB leads and Mental Health Trusts interested in bringing the pathway to their region can request a briefing and demonstration by contacting partnerships@univa.health.

 

About Univa

Founded in 2024, Univa Health is transforming the care experience for people with eating disorders and their families. Driven by science and harnessing the power of technology and design, the Univa Care Platform combines real time monitoring with interactive, evidence based therapeutic tools to deliver earlier intervention, more personalised support and sustained recovery. Its unique dual app programmes provide tailored pathways for both the individual and their carer, harnessing the power of the family as an active partner in recovery. Built as a platform of tools to enhance the effectiveness and efficiency of both NHS and private healthcare systems, Univa empowers clinicians to deliver care that is proactive, scalable and compassionate. www.univa.health

About First Steps ED

First Steps ED is a national eating disorder charity supporting people of all ages, genders and backgrounds. In the field of eating disorders, we offer the widest range of high-quality care focused on the needs of the individual. The services include psychotherapy, counselling, workshops, peer support and online tools for everyone impacted by eating disorders, including family and loved ones. https://firststepsed.co.uk/

About ARFID

ARFID (Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder) is an eating disorder characterised by avoidance or restriction of food that is not driven by body image concerns. Drivers include sensory sensitivities, fear of adverse consequences such as choking or vomiting, and low interest in eating. ARFID frequently co-occurs with autism and ADHD and is estimated to account for 40 to 50 per cent of referrals into community eating disorder services.

 

Media enquiries

Univa: media@univa.health

First Steps ED: Rachel Gonzaga, press@firststepsed.co.uk

By Hannah, mid-20s, anorexia nervosa, recovered

When I reflect on my eating disorder journey, I think a huge part of why it appealed to me so much is because I wanted to be accepted by others. I had always felt like an outsider, but with all the messages in society about ideal body types and being slim, I began to internalise the fact that if I made myself smaller, I would be more loved. If I could be more disciplined, push myself to limits others couldn’t and create a body loved by others, I’d be accepted in a world I never felt like I belonged.

Initially, I was right. I started to lose weight and people noticed. They commented positively on how I looked and I started to gain attention from boys. But, like with most things in my life, I didn’t know where to stop. What started as something that received positive feedback, quickly became something that engulfed my life. The friends I had started to make suddenly felt intimidating. The attention I got felt threatening. I didn’t want anyone to get in the way of my weight loss, and that meant avoiding social situations, losing trust in others, and pushing away the people who loved me the most.

When things got to their worst, I can safely say that was the most lonely and isolated I had ever felt. I no longer trusted anyone, but I couldn’t help but lean further into the eating disorder behaviours as they were the only thing that felt safe. Maybe, if I kept pushing, I would feel less alone. Unfortunately, I was wrong. But fortunately, this is where recovery really began to take shape.

I hit rock bottom. I didn’t see my friends, I felt out of love with my partner, I didn’t want to spend time with my family. I suddenly realised my life had become so tiny, that all that was left was me and the eating disorder, and I didn’t want that anymore. I craved connection, laughter, love, moments of joy with other people. I didn’t want to hide in my home anymore, I wanted to have memories and things to look forward to. So, slowly but surely I started to reach out to people. I messaged friends I hadn’t spoken to for a while, I created moments of connection with my partner, I went home to spend time with my family. It was terrifying, but the more I did it, the more I realised I wanted it.

Ultimately, none of this involved food. But naturally, as time went on, I was invited to friends’ houses for food, my partner asked me to go out for dinner, and my mum wanted to share cake with me when we were out. Initially this felt terrifying, but as I took tiny baby steps to try new things, it became easier. What felt like the world was going to end started to feel enjoyable and I realised all of these moments weren’t about the food, but they were about the connection. They were about being present, not worrying about calories or being consumed by numbers, not worrying about what ingredients had been put into things and instead enjoying chatting to my friends, laughing and living in the moment.

Community has played an essential role in my recovery, and has been one of the biggest motivating factors for me getting better. People often say you have to want to recover for yourself, but I couldn’t find that desire when I was ill. I started recovery for others, and slowly but surely as I started to enjoy life again, that’s when I shifted and started to do it for myself. And honestly, it’s the best thing that I have ever done.

Eating Disorders Awareness Week always makes me think about how invisible my struggle once was. From the outside, I looked capable and even successful, but inside my mind was in constant stress. Food wasn’t just food but it was a measure of whether I had been “good” or “bad” that day!  I didn’t recognise it as an illness for a long time but my life was shrinking and revolving around avoiding food.

For a long time, restricting my intake felt like it was in control and (I know it sounds crazy) powerful. I could conquer my appetite. It was the thing I did when I felt overwhelmed or uncertain. So, letting go of it felt terrifying. Giving up controlling my food meant giving up something that had convinced me it was keeping me safe from spiralling out of control.

Recovery wasn’t a dramatic breakthrough for me. It was a series of small, uncomfortable decisions made over and over again. I had to eat when my brain told me not to. I started telling the truth in therapy even when it felt humiliating. I let people see that I was struggling instead of pretending I was fine. It was horrible, I can’t pretend otherwise. I had to get used to being in a bigger body, and the fear that brought up. But slowly, the obsessive thoughts began to loosen their grip. I realised one day that I had gone hours without thinking about food, and that was really motivating.

What my freedom looks like now is not perfection or constant body confidence. It’s being able to sit at a table and focus on conversation instead of calories. It’s choosing food based on hunger rather than fear. It’s having energy for relationships, creativity, and me! The constant mental noise has given me back time I didn’t realise I was missing.

If you are struggling during Eating Disorders Awareness Week, I want you to know that you don’t have to look a certain way or reach a certain level of suffering to deserve help. You are not weak for finding comfort in something that now hurts you. And you are not beyond change, even if it feels that way. Recovery is not instant, and it is not linear, and it is hard. I never believed I would get rid of this condition, but I did.

I hope you find the courage and support to recover too.

By Sophie, mid-20s, recovered, anorexia nervosa

The language around “illness” can be problematic and confusing when you are in the grips of it. For years people would say to me “it’s not you, it’s your illness” and whilst this can seem reassuring to assuage any guilt on behaviour that you might feel slightly ashamed of, I actually found it really unhelpful personally. For me, this was because I was so entrenched that it didn’t feel it was a separate entity, but just a fully enveloped part of me –  therefore this kind of talk about it being “the illness” doing the bad things, actually only led to increasing my personal sense of shame as at the time I couldn’t differentiate between the different parts of myself.

Something that I think is potentially a more helpful message, is to acknowledge that they are ALL parts of you and even though its methods have got twisted, there are no bad parts. An eating disorder fundamentally develops as a protective mechanism to help you cope with things that feel out of your control (whether external/situational or internal). In some ways I think it’s important to actually acknowledge and appreciate the ability of the mind to manipulate itself in order to protect. Of course an eating disorder is an undesirable, unhealthy coping mechanism but it’s also a part of your brain that is signaling that something is not right in your life and if you can work on the root cause, it’s possible you will come out stronger.

Despite every influencer under the sun trying to tell us how we should live our lives, there is actually no handbook for life. We are all muddling through in the same way, learning as we go and as unbelievably cheesy as it sounds, we learn from ALL the parts of us. Just because there is behavior you don’t feel proud of (which is very common within the sneaky grips of an eating disorder and its manifestations), doesn’t mean we should shun completely the part from where it came. Whilst self-love might seem like an unrealistic expectation, I believe that self-acceptance is more than possible and also necessary for giving yourself permission to live a happier life. The more we try to suppress the parts of ourselves we may not like, the more the negativity genuinely festers and inhibits us from feeling comfortable in our own skin. 

Of course, if aspects of your actions or feelings are no longer serving you, you have agency to work on those and develop habits that are more in-line with the person you want to be. Learning and evolving is part of human life and change allows growth HOWEVER you should NOT feel ashamed of the parts you are leaving behind. No one is born perfect nor will ever be perfect and all the iterations of our personalities are the building blocks to working out who you want to be. There is no right or wrong, it’s about leaning into the parts of you that make you feel the most like yourself and that can take a long time to figure out. Above all I truly believe whilst there can be bad intentions there is truly no such thing as bad parts.

By Sophie, mid-20s, recovered, anorexia nervosa

I think humour is often underestimated. It can be a defence mechanism deflecting from what’s really going OR it can be the ultimate key to helping you find the snippets of joy that might have been squashed for a long time. Either way it’s powerful stuff.

I do believe in the cliché ‘laughter is the best medicine’. Obviously not laughing AT someone, but when you are able to find the humour in a situation (be it a serious one or something more trivial) I don’t know the exact science but it can totally alter the way you feel in that moment. Of course the tough things need to be dealt with in a serious way at some point but as I moved through recovery, the more I was able to make light of scenarios that might have felt world ending at one time, which not only helped me process it but also allowed me to connect more with family as we collectively chose to find the funny side to something that had been so life destroying for us all.

Your laughter muscles are the only muscles I would actively ENCOURAGE you to exercise whilst you recover. The eating disorder to me felt a bit like the DeathEaters (who guard the wizard prison) in Harry Potter- they literally try and suck out your soul (I’m not being melodramatic here that’s the actual purpose of the DeathEaters in the books) and when they are present it’s cold and all feelings of joy are sucked away. Much like Harry in the books, the strength to fight them off has to come from within and by keeping the positive and joyful thoughts alive in your mind, not succumbing to the fear. I’m aware I’ve gone very cheesy and metaphorical here (I make no apologies for the Harry Potter reference though as they will always be my comfort books especially when read by Stephen Fry!) but I genuinely believe that one of the best ways of fueling your inner strength is with laughter.

Laughter can feel like a connecting force when sharing the humour with other people – something that becomes harder to do in the depths of an all-consuming eating disorder that aims to isolate you. For me, it was something I used to actually feel guilty about doing and if I felt a laugh rising I would try and stifle it because I believed if I laughed then it invalidated all my struggles. In reality two things can be true at the same time – you can be at your lowest point, struggling but laughing at something doesn’t take away from that or make it any less real. It CAN be an aid to helping shift to a slightly more positive mindset and be a healthier coping mechanism for moving away from the illness, but it will NEVER invalidate what you have and are continuing to go through and to fight.

The ability to make someone else laugh is probably what gives me the most joy and did especially in the early days. It can feel particularly poignant to be able to give someone the gift of a good laugh and again, I am not meaning to sound over the top but being the source of someone’s smile and giggle is an undeniably good feeling and allowed me to find parts of my personality (new or old) that I actually liked and would like to work towards growing.

There’s a reason why shows like FRIENDS continue to have so much success – comedy can be escapism which is very different to avoidance but can provide a respite to the inner turmoil going on in a person’s mind. The physical action of laughing is almost unavoidable and I believe works to physically break you out of what is going on in your brain and focus your energy on another part of your body.

The most difficult part of laughter is actually allowing yourself to do it. But once you let yourself let’s be honest you’ll find it’s a lot more fun laughing about some of the ridiculous situations I KNOW you can end up in when grappling with an eating disorder than it is crying about them. Of course, process things in your own way, be serious when you need to be and don’t brush things to the side but the best advice I could possibly give to any human in general – LET THE LAUGHTER IN, you’ll never regret a good giggle!

By Sophie, mid-20s, recovered, anorexia nervosa.

There’s no doubt that having an eating disorder can make the holidays particularly hard. There’s lots of socialising and people around and of course an abundance of food at every opportunity. One of the most overwhelming things can of course be the amount of choice when it comes to food and I think it can be very helpful to actually have a think and a strategy for how to make this period as enjoyable and un-stressful as it possibly can be. Here are some tips that I or others have found to be useful at a time that can be a little bit tricky:

 

1. Allow yourself to accept where you are even if it’s not where you want to be – it can be incredibly frustrating to struggle at a time that’s supposed to be so joyful but rather than punishing yourself further for having a hard time, it can be really helpful to accept what your boundaries are right now and that it doesn’t mean that’s what they are going to be forever.

    

2. Give yourself permission to leave – during gatherings with large groups of people you can’t control the timings, the food that’s out etc but you can control what YOU do. If you want to go then give yourself permission to go and leave early if that’s what’s best for you not to be too overwhelmed. I find it helps me actually be more present if I know in my head that I’m going to stay for a certain period of time and then if it gets too much, I’m going to take myself home where I feel safer and that is ok.

    

3. If you are having Christmas lunch it can be really useful to practice what you’re going to eat, to familiarise yourself with it and make it feel more comfortable so you will be less worried when the day itself comes around.

    

4. Having said that – if you are having food with family or friends and you feel comfortable to do so, I also think it’s more than ok to bring your own food. Again, it doesn’t mean that that’s what you’re going to do every year but it can help to take away from the anxiety around food and allow you to be more present on the social side if you know you are eating something you are comfortable with and the truth is NOBODY is actually going to care.

    

5. Remember that all this food is going to be there even after the Christmas period – sometimes it can feel like there’s a sense of urgency and you HAVE to try all this new “Christmas food” NOW, like it can only be eaten in this 2 week period which can make it incredibly overwhelming – but I find it helpful to remind myself that there actually is no rush and it will all still be there in a months time (even the Christmas chocolate) and you can have it at any point therefore, it isn’t going anywhere and you don’t need to rush to try it all.

    

6. Try and organize one NON food related activity that you can look forward to – whether that’s a panto, a theatre show, seeing the lights etc.

    

7. It’s ok to take breaks – if it gets too much and too overstimulating , it’s ok to excuse yourself and go upstairs for a bit, if you’re going to someone else’s house maybe bring a sensory toy/headphones, something that you know can help you feel a bit calmer.

    

8. Be prepared for the fact that someone is going to say the wrong thing/talk about how they’ll diet in January etc. Unfortunately it’s more than likely and it’s much better to know that these things might be said and also to know that it’s nothing to do with you and your journey. It’s just an unfortunate part of the rhetoric in society!

    

9. Remember that however it might feel, you are worthy and deserving of having a nice time or receiving nice gifts (if that’s what your family do).

    

10. Try and take the pressure off the day itself (easier said than done), it’s ok to feel how you feel whether that’s happy or sad, but at the end of the day EVERYDAY has the opportunity for joy so whether this year turns out how you want it to or not – that same love and cheer (cheesy as it sounds) can be experienced all year round.

     

Author: Fiona, mid-20s with anorexia and autism

 

Suffering from anorexia means 24/7 you have a voice in your head telling you less less less. Less food, less enjoyment time, less weight, less of a person. More exercise, more business, more work, more control. It’s a violent contradiction that causes my head to feel in a storm. 

Food to me isn’t what it is to my mum, or my dad, or my friends. Food to someone with an eating disorder, isn’t just food. That’s a really hard concept to understand. 

A few years ago I managed to find the vocabulary which, for me, described the different stages of my relationship with food.

Food as a chore.

Food as food. 

In my good days, food is food. Its is enjoyable, it is relaxing, it is fun. It is social and tasty. 

In my bad days, food is a chore. It is merely a tick on my list of things I had to do in a day. 

Food has been a chore for me for many years, and it reflect my recovery. When I was in hospital, food was the chore I had to do to get out. I hated it, I hated the anxiety it caused, the distress it evoked. I hated eating, I hated the dining room I hated supervision, I hated it. But I did it because I had to. 

When I got out of hospital, food was a chore to stay out of hospital. I ate my meal plan because I needed to stay out of hospital. I wanted to go to uni, so I had to eat more food to be allowed by my treatment team. When I stared uni, I had to keep eating my meal plan, or I would’ve been stopped from going to uni. 

Last year, my recovery went well. Food became an enjoyment. I enjoyed the taste, I enjoyed the company. It was social, it was going out for dinner and choosing what I thought sounded tasty. That for me was momentous. 

Author: Sasha 

 

Many people have struggles with food, dieting, and body image and not just those with diagnosed eating disorders but for me, these experiences began to shape the way I think about myself and my restrictive habits escalated very quickly. I believe sharing my perspective could be helpful for young people who deal with similar challenges with restricting their intake, because even small experiences can have a big effect on how we view ourselves and our health.

A lot of my difficulties started when I noticed changes in my body one summer, changes that I now know are a normal part of growing and the body’s natural fluctuations. Since then, I began to feel the urge to monitor my food closely. I used calorie-counting apps and scanned labels to check how “healthy” or “bad” something is, which can make me feel guilty for eating foods I actually enjoy. This constant tracking can be draining and stressful, and it makes eating feel less natural and more like a calculation. Social media makes this even harder, because it constantly shows “perfect” bodies and skinny “influencers” who act like eating less is the only way to be attractive.

One of the main things that helps me is reminding myself that my body is already fine the way it is. The negative thoughts about food and weight are usually in my head, more than how other people actually see me. Exercise also helps me manage these feelings, but not in an extreme way; going for a run or doing a short workout makes me feel strong and positive without tying it directly to food guilt. Staying off calorie-counting apps also gives me a healthier perspective, since they often make me obsess over numbers. When I catch myself comparing to people online, I remind myself that those images are often filtered or unrealistic, and in real life they don’t look like that.

Another thing that helps is reminding myself that my body shape is natural and genetic. For example, my mother has always been slim but my grandmother has a larger shape but they never worry about calories, which helps me realize that my body is built the way it is and accepting this helped. Remembering this makes me feel less pressure to constantly change myself. Gentle self-talk, like reminding myself I’m enough just as I am, helps me feel more grounded and less anxious about food choices.

At the same time, there are things that make these struggles worse. When people such as colleagues at work, or older women in inappropriate settings comment on my appearance by saying I look “too skinny,” “unhealthy,” or even that “they wished they had my figure again” or imply I should eat more it, makes me feel uncomfortable and self-conscious. Even when people think they’re giving a compliment, like pointing out how slim I am, it still puts unwanted attention on my body. Toxic beauty standards online can sometimes make real-life comments hurt even more, because it feels like I can’t measure up both in person and on social media. These comments can make me second-guess myself and feed into the negative thoughts I already have. 

Overall, what helps me most is focusing on positive routines, like exercise and self-acceptance, while avoiding triggers like calorie-tracking apps and negative comments about my body. If an app could encourage users with gentle reminders of self-worth, provide supportive coping strategies, and avoid making food feel like numbers and guilt, I think it would make a real difference. As social media is so prominent in this day and age, the app could also help by reminding people that social media often shows unrealistic images, and that comparing ourselves isn’t healthy or real life. The most important thing is helping people feel comfortable in their own skin without judgment.

Author: Hannah, Eating Disorder Recovery Coach

 

As an Eating Disorder Recovery coach, I know firsthand that the real work of recovery doesn’t just happen during sessions or appointments. These meetings can be immensely valuable, but it is the hours in between where recovery is truly lived out. I know from my own lived experience of an eating disorder too that it is within these in-between moments that worries can amplify and unattended thoughts can spiral. That’s why ongoing, accessible support — extending far beyond formal session time — is so vital. When Jenny and Victoria shared their concept of a self-directed app designed to bridge the gaps between treatment, I was immensely excited. I see direct correlation between a highly individualised and consistent recovery approach and sustained robust healing outcome, and this app proposal seemed to offer exactly that.

One feature that stood out to me immediately was Univa’s daily check-in system. The app allows you to choose a time of day that suits you, and subsequently sends a notification to prompt a check-in. At first glance, this might seem like a small thing, but I know from my own recovery that gentle nudges reawaken intentionality. When everything feels overwhelming, it is so tempting to lean towards avoidance over self-reconnection. A simple reminder like the Univa notification feels like someone gently tapping you on the shoulder, inviting you to slow down and come back to yourself. 

What I particularly appreciated when trialling Univa is that the app gives you the freedom to set your own rhythm. In recovery, so many things can feel out of your control, so I welcomed that the app invites you choose what asks what you need in that given moment of opening it. The app feels like it meets you where you are and adapts to you, rather than not the other way round, and I think this is indispensable for any form of recovery support. I so frequently observe that a sense of personal autonomy within one’s recovery is closely correlated to progression, and that’s why I find the intuitive and non-prescriptive self-reflection elements of the app to be genuinely supportive.

Especially when difficult feelings arise, our instinct as humans is to rush to fix them. Even for healthy individuals, closely tuning in and really giving space to emotions isn’t a frequent practice. Avoidance is especially the tendency in instances of acute anxiety and unfamiliarity. Instead of pausing, we attempt to do something, change something, or make the discomfort go away. But in recovery, one of the most powerful lessons is learning that we can’t process what we don’t allow ourselves to feel. We don’t have to force an emotion to pass in order to be safe. I really feel that the check-ins via Univa create space for that acknowledgement and encourage a shift away from unhelpful patterns of evasion. What I appreciated was that these check-ins aren’t asking you to “fix” anything, as such. They’re simply inviting you to notice. And only after that noticing can processing ensue. 

From my trialling, Univa doesn’t try to replace the human connection and co-regulation that comes from working with a therapist, coach, or support network. Rather, I truly believe it can facilitate that process — helping you keep connected to yourself and consistent in your recovery work between sessions. I can see it being a valuable tool not only for those in recovery but also for loved ones, offering reassurance that there’s something reliable holding the process together between sessions. Sometimes, all it takes is a simple notification to remind you: take a moment to tune into yourself, you matter.

Author: Fiona, mid-20s with anorexia and autism

 

My mum has often compared my struggles with anorexia to someone trying to break free from an abusive relationship. I think she is right. 

To begin with, anorexia promises happiness, or at least relief from some difficulty or pain in your life. it comes with flowers and smiles and you are lured in, believing you have found a way to… cope. Something that can fill a need, make you feel safe, wanted, enough. 

It may work for a while, it may bring you a sense of calm and containment and you may even believe you feel better with it. But quickly, the tides change. It has manipulated you into thinking it is all you need, to the detriment of everything and everyone else in your life. 

It shuts you off from your loved ones and the things that genuinely bring you comfort and happiness with the false promises of relief if goals are met, but the ever moving goal posts mean it takes more and more time and energy to even get close.

Before long, it is controlling your every move. Everything you do ‘isn’t enough’, is wrong, anorexia is unpleasable. You restrict more, you exercise more, you do everything it tells you, and maybe once in a blue moon, it’ll praise you. You will be so overwhelmed that you finally pleased it, you go for more, more, more. But it’s never enough.

The more you give in, the stronger it gets.

It’s gets to a point where you have no friends, no one to talk to. Anorexia has convinced you that you don’t need friends. Your worthless, you don’t deserve friends. You have anorexia, you couldn’t possibly want anymore.

People around you notice the change, you’ve become withdrawn, sad and anxious. Consumed. You push them away – not because you don’t want their help, deep down you know their words of concern are true, but because you are terrified to go against the anorexia, the thing that once calmed the pain has become the source.

It takes time, it takes that final push when you realise the anorexia for what it is. You try to leave, but it comes back, promising things will be different. You believe it because after all, it did help at one point… maybe it will again, maybe it’s changed?

It hasn’t. You fall back, you get worse, you realise what a horrible mistake you’ve made but your too deep. You try to fight but it has the ultimate power. Your stripped bare of everything, your personality, your laugher, your happiness. Your left a shell. Nothing but an empty shell who is both terrified of this thing but also protects it with your life and lie for it to you closest friends.

Overtime, you will hopefully gain strength. Be this from others stepping in, or from your own self. You will fight. You will realise you deserve more. 

But the anorexia will still be there, there will still be all the memories it replays with rose tinted glasses, and you will still be tempted to go back. 

Recovery is a process of understanding that the thing that once eased the pain is not the solution, it never was. It is a process of learning different ways of coping, and strategies to see through the rose tinted glasses and not go back to the anorexia, even when it seems like the only thing that will help.

Recovery is also about mourning, grieving the years spent at the mercy of the anorexia. The years subjected to the torment, being trapped in its talons, unable to engage in life or with loved ones and confused as to why things went from idyllic to torture so quickly.

Recovery is about strengthening your voice against the anorexia, standing up to the lies, the temptation and the anger. It is scary and feels impossible at times, but it feeling impossible doesn’t mean it is impossible – just difficult. The strength to recover is unlike any other. 

 

I can promise you one thing though: to survive the grips of the abusive relationship of anorexia means you are strong enough to survive the recovery. I promise.