Life after anorexia nervosa is worth living

“I’m not religious or spiritual at all, but isn’t that just too coincidental?” says 22-year-old Sophie Korthuijs after sharing an anecdote about Leontien van Moorsel. For some time, the Dutch golfer worked closely with the former world and Olympic champion, but nowadays she sees her only rarely. Not just because Van Moorsel is very busy, but mainly because Korthuijs has recovered from the anorexia that gripped her in her late teens. When the golfer from Babyloniënbroek boarded a plane last year after her first international win at the Portugal Global Junior Golf, she happened to meet the four-time gold medalist on board. “You can’t call that coincidence, can you? I’ve experienced that before — things happen that seem coincidental at first, but come at exactly the right moment.”

“I didn’t even have a full set of clubs and arrived with just nine clubs in my bag"

“Take my friendship with Fernand Osther, the former golfer. Years ago, I attended a training program with him, and we immediately clicked. We didn’t speak weekly, but regularly. At one point, he suddenly texted me just when I was really feeling low. It started as a casual conversation, just chatting, but not long after he called and said, ‘I think something’s wrong, am I right?’ I thought: how does he know that? But he was right. I told him everything, and he just listened, without judgment. He invited me to come by, saying, ‘You don’t need to bring your clubs if you don’t want to.’ That invitation really meant something. I thought: there’s still someone who likes me for me, sees me as a person and not as that girl with an eating disorder.”

Nine clubs

Korthuijs was ten months old when she was adopted by her parents. “I was born in Lianyungang, but to be honest, I wouldn’t even know exactly where that is. I think somewhere in eastern China. I was so young — in my mind, I’m just Dutch,” she says laughing in the clubhouse at her home course, Golfpark Almkreek. After revealing her birthday — December 26, 2003 — she summarizes her childhood: “I went to a small primary school nearby. When the canals froze, we would take skates and go skating behind the school. I loved it and wanted to pursue it as a sport, but my parents thought speed skating was too masculine, so I did figure skating instead. I enjoyed it and was fairly good, but as a kid I didn’t like that it was judged. Then I wanted to play soccer, but my dad wasn’t on board. ‘Do I really have to sit in that canteen every Saturday?’” she laughs. “Not long after, he was in the clubhouse every week…”

Ultimately, it wasn’t figure skating, soccer, hockey, or tennis, but golf. Not because her friends played it, but because she passed Golfpark Almkreek on her way to and from school. “I wanted to try golf, so I took youth lessons. One thing led to another. I soon showed talent, and it was encouraging to hear from club members that I was good. You stand out as a little girl on the driving range anyway, but their support motivated me. I became really dedicated after a talent day organized by the Dutch Golf Federation, when I was selected for the C-squad.” With sparkling eyes, she adds: “I didn’t even have a full set of clubs and arrived with just nine clubs in my bag — that’s how fast it went.”

"It’s all or nothing"

All or nothing

Korthuijs admits that her fanaticism is partly driven by a need to prove herself, but she can’t help it. “When I see grown men hitting balls on the driving range in the cold, I sometimes wonder why they bother. I’m there because I want to win and become a professional. They’re not there for that; they’re just doing it for fun. I couldn’t do it any other way. For me, it’s all or nothing. People who go to the gym once a week? Great. But I would go twice a day and go all-in. If I said I wanted to learn piano now, you’d see me at it every day for three years, not just playing casually but striving to be excellent.”

“This was also true when I joined the squad. The girls who were already there had been playing longer than me and had Instagram accounts with thousands of followers, while I didn’t even have a full golf set. You think: what am I doing here? But my mindset quickly became: I’m going to work so hard that I beat everyone. I don’t know where I got that drive from, but it feels normal to me. In fact, I truly believe that if you want to reach the top, you have to work harder than others. It’s hard for me to take a day off or sleep in. Now I know I need balance, and I’m learning it gradually. But when teammates tell me they don’t touch a club for weeks during vacation… I just can’t relate.”

Eating disorder

It’s no surprise that her anorexia, which surfaced around 2020, was connected to her drive. Korthuijs confirms: “An eating disorder isn’t just about food. For me, it was about being unhappy. School, home — nowhere felt right. I kept up appearances, trained, worked, but it was really bad. My parents saw me eating huge amounts of watermelon and thought: she’s eating, right? But it was nothing — just water. I lost a lot of weight, and even though that was the goal, I knew it wasn’t healthy. At the same time, it gave a sense of control. At school, I didn’t have control over anything. I was that girl who was only good at golf, but even that I could hardly manage. Counting calories, always striving for a goal. I had control over that, but at what cost? Everything. When I found myself doing sit-ups in the dark, unhappy and with zero energy, I knew I couldn’t continue like that.”

She entered mental health care, but it wasn’t the solution. “When I got there, I weighed about 25 kilos, and the staff said it couldn’t go on. Don’t say that to someone so driven. I lost even more weight and didn’t want help. I almost made it my mission to defeat the therapists. I went through five therapists in the first months. With some, I said nothing. With others, I told them I was doing well as an athlete, and they didn’t understand. With another, I said: ‘What would you do if your daughter were me?’ Then they got emotional and said: ‘I can’t help this girl.’ No, I wasn’t a fun person then.” She shakes her head slightly at the memory of that dark period.

Olympic help

The mental health system considered involuntary admission. “I didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t a life. Yes, I thought about ending it, taking an overdose or something. My dreams to succeed as a golfer were gone,” she says without hesitation. “But there’s always someone who makes sure that in those moments, you think: it’s going to be okay.”

For Korthuijs, that person was first Fernand Osther, then Leontien van Moorsel. “Fernand was the first to see me as a person, like I said. No judgment, just an arm around me. Leontien came later, after my parents read about her foundation. Honestly, I didn’t even know who she was and resisted at first. But she was so kind and understanding. She said, ‘I’m going to help you.’ At first, I thought: I don’t even have a purpose. Why help me? What can be helped? Who am I without golf? But unlike the therapists, I couldn’t brush her off. She often anticipated what I would say or even think before I opened my mouth. I thought: how does she know? She had been through it herself. And where all the therapists said forget golf, she said I still had a chance to reach the top. She challenged me and appealed to my drive. ‘You’re not a quitter, are you?’ and things like that. That was exactly the right trigger for me. I wanted to prove her right. With an Olympic champion saying that, I dared not refuse — I had too much respect for her. She had been at rock bottom and climbed back up. I couldn’t have wished for a better example.”

"I sometimes think back to those dark moments, when nothing mattered. That wasn’t life."

Instagram-beautiful

With Van Moorsel and her support network, Korthuijs emerged from the abyss. Gradually, she regained a healthy weight and was no longer “a bag of bones,” as she calls it. Not only did she regain her health, but her dream to succeed as a golfer returned. “In the U.S., I found a college willing to take me despite two years without competitive play. Where other coaches said I had peaked or had no place in their program, Ball State offered me a full scholarship because of my history. ‘Someone who’s been through the worst and fought through it.’ That was a sign I had to follow, even though it was scary to go alone so soon after such a difficult period.”

The beginning was not easy — she wasn’t allowed to play because of too many gap years, and she had a terrible roommate — but she has now found her footing. In January, she began a new degree after struggling with internships in her first law program, and her golf is going well. Her goal remains the LPGA Tour, but last December she played in the LET qualifying school in the Netherlands on her coach’s advice. “After college, the pressure is immense. You need experience for the future,” he said. She reflects: “It was helpful to see where I stood and how far I was from the top. Golf-wise, I need more consistency, and mentally I need to be stronger; I’m still too insecure.”

“Of course, I sometimes think back to those dark moments, when nothing mattered. That wasn’t life. To girls in similar situations, I want to say: you should know how beautiful life can be. Not Instagram-beautiful — that perfect picture that makes people unhappy because it’s not real. Life also means dealing with disappointment, continuing after loss. It’s not always easy, but sitting in the dark in your room isn’t either. When I recovered, I deleted my entire social media timeline. A fresh start. I still look back at photos from when I was sick, and I’m not ashamed to share my story. But I am more than that, and I don’t want to be known only as the golfer who went through something. That was only a few years ago, and it will always be part of my story, but my dream to succeed as a golfer is so much more than that. Life is worth living.”