When REDs Affects Relationships

Tags: Read time: 5mins

When we think of REDs, most of us picture the physical fallout: fatigue, injuries, hormonal disruption, and performance dips. But REDs doesn’t stop at the body. It spills into everyday life, and one of the areas it touches most deeply, and often silently, is relationships.

It makes sense that when our energy is low and our bodies are under strain, it becomes almost impossible for our connections not to feel the impact. Low energy availability affects our brain chemistry and hormones, which can lead to irritability, anxiety, or emotional flatness. Socialising takes energy, and if we’re under-fuelled, sleep-deprived, or preoccupied with food and training, it becomes much harder to show up in the way we’d like to.

The things that would usually bring us closer, like enjoying food with family, drinks with friends, or days out, can start to feel like obstacles to our athletic (or aesthetic) goals. When disordered eating patterns creep in, eating itself can become a source of stress. Food rules or restrictions create rigidity around meals, and moments that should feel joyful and connecting can turn tense. Secrecy can slide in too: dodging invitations, making excuses, or swapping carbs for courgetti (or whatever the latest “health” trend is). It all drains mental energy and erodes our ability to be present with the people who care about us.

Loved ones feel it. Parents sense the distance but don’t know how to bridge it. Friends miss the version of us who laughed freely and said yes to spontaneous plans. Partners may feel like they’re losing the person they love, even when we’re still physically there. REDs doesn’t just wear us down physically; it can build walls between us and the people who are trying their hardest to reach us.

And then there’s sex. A reduced libido is a common but rarely discussed symptom of REDs, caused by the hormonal suppression that comes with low energy availability. This can be confusing and painful within a relationship. One partner might feel unwanted, while the other feels ashamed or frustrated that intimacy isn’t there. It’s yet another ripple effect of REDs far beyond sport, affecting not just “the athlete,” but the human at the centre of it all.

The good news is that none of this is irreversible. Our bodies and brains can recover when they’re given enough fuel, time, and rest. That doesn’t mean it’s easy. For many of us it’s a slow and vulnerable process, but our systems are remarkably adaptable. With consistent fuelling, rest, and a reduction in training stress, hormones such as estrogen and testosterone can return to healthy levels. Menstrual cycles can resume, sperm quality can improve, and libido often returns as the body feels safe again. Relationships, too, can repair and often deepen through honesty, patience, and consistent effort, however imperfect those conversations may feel at first.

Recovering from REDs is rarely just about “getting back to sport.” It’s about becoming whole again: physically, mentally, and socially. Many athletes who’ve experienced REDs say that the recovery process gave them perspective, resilience, and a new appreciation for balance. Far from setting them back, it shaped them into stronger, more grounded people, both in and out of sport.

So what can loved ones do?

We know that many supporters feel powerless; unsure whether to bring it up, afraid of saying the wrong thing, or desperate to fix things quickly. The reality is, you can’t recover for them, but you can walk alongside them in ways that make a real difference.

  • Educate yourself. Understanding REDs takes away some of the mystery. Reading up (like you’re doing now) helps you respond with empathy rather than frustration. When we recognise that fatigue, anxiety, irritability, or withdrawal are symptoms, not personality changes, it becomes easier to stay compassionate.

  • Listen without judgement. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is let them offload without trying to problem solve. Harsh questions like, “Why aren’t you eating more?” or, “Why are you still training if you’re injured?” can shut someone down instantly. For many athletes, the fear of losing control is real. Jumping into “solutions mode” can unintentionally make them feel judged or pressured. Curious, gentle questions keep communication open. A simple, “That sounds hard. I’m here for you”, goes a long way. Think of yourself as inviting conversation, not interrogating it.

  • Avoid food and body comments. Even positive ones like, “You look healthy”, can be misinterpreted. Instead, focus on how they seem. “You seemed more relaxed today,” or, “I loved seeing you laugh.” Even if it sounds simple, it can plant a seed of reflection which may well take root.

  • Offer practical support. Support doesn’t need to be dramatic. Often it’s the tiny acts of care that count. That might mean giving lifts to appointments, gently encouraging rest when you think they’re overdoing it, or offering snacks wherever you go.

  • Encourage professional help. You’re not meant to be their therapist, nutritionist, or coach. Professional support can be a lifeline but it must be invited rather than imposed. Try: “I care about you, and I want you to have support that really helps. Would you be open to talking with someone who understands REDs?”. If the answer is no, stay calm and keep the door open.

  • Set boundaries with love. Supporters often burn out because they take on too much. Boundaries protect the relationship and prevent resentment. For example: “I care about you and want to support you, but I can’t be the only one helping. I’d love us to involve someone trained who can guide you too.” Boundaries don’t push someone away but rather they keep the relationship safe.

Relationships, like athletes, are resilient. They can bend, wobble, and even break in places, but with time and care, they can be mended and made stronger. Recovery won’t look perfect. There will be misunderstandings, setbacks, and moments of discomfort on both sides. But with compassion, communication, and patience, connection can return, trust can rebuild, and joy can find its way back in. If you’re the one struggling, you’re not a burden. If you’re the one supporting, you’re making a difference. Healing happens together.