I'm a recovering anorexic... and this is why I hope someone is helping frail and unwell Ariana Grande: LIZ JONES

It's horrendous to be criticised for your appearance. I get it all the time. From a male reader, upon seeing a photo of me smiling next to Tracey Emin : 'You no longer look like that.' Maybe, but my teeth are much improved! A thread on Mumsnet : 'Don't mention her ears!' A female friend: 'You have lovely arms, but you should stop dyeing your hair.' An ex colleague wrote: 'Liz always did have a face like a spoon.'

Worst of all was the highly religious female writer in a snooty broadsheet who, below a photo of me taken at my then husband's book launch, wrote: 'The huge, staring eyes above a skeletal body, desperately trying to hang on to her man's arm.' Female writers are always the cruellest, and she wrote knowing little of what was happening behind closed doors: the emotional abuse, the cheating, the childhood anorexia that flares up at the first sign of trouble, the crippling self-doubt. Is it appropriate to comment about someone who has what is, let's face it, a mental illness? I'm my own worst enemy so I certainly don't need new ones. I was once asked by the Daily Mail to dress as Kate Middleton for the day. It was a bit of fun, as I have long, dark hair (ageing, apparently) and a handspan waist. I still chew over the vile comments in the middle of the night; the only things I do masticate, mostly.

But, and it's a big but (which I obviously don't have), it's important we are allowed to talk about a woman's body when her massive empire is based upon revenue from girls. I'm talking, of course, about Ariana Grande , who is stepping back from her career when her current tour ends. She clearly looks frail and unwell. We do not know what the problem is. I am a recovering anorexic – I'm not saying that she has that condition, but I know only too well what the effects of a serious illness are and I hope that someone is helping her.

Ariana Grande, pictured performing at the O2 Arena in London earlier this month, will take a step back from her career when her current tour ends

I know only too well what the effects of a serious illness are and I hope that someone is helping Ariana, writes Liz Jones

As a teenager, I'd hide my body with baggy clothes, which a female pop star can't do these days, and I'd lie to my parents, to the endocrine consultant, to nurses, to myself. I became vegetarian at 11 to avoid the Sunday roast. But as a female columnist, it's my duty to be brave, often at personal cost. Not long before Amy Winehouse died, I wrote a piece asking why no one – family, friends, agents, her record label – was able to intervene; as well as being an alcoholic, she was bulimic. The accompanying headline, 'Amy Decline-house', was unfortunate, meaning in a documentary ( A Life In Ten Pictures ) after Amy's death, a friend of hers condemned my piece as an example of how the press ultimately pushed her over the precipice. It's easy to be misconstrued.

The issue of female addiction – to cosmetic procedures, diets, fat jabs, alcohol, unsuitable men – is becoming off limits. I went out and about in a fat suit for a piece; on national TV, a body-positive activist tore into me for even trying to understand what it is to be morbidly obese. As someone who's deaf, I'd be overjoyed if someone spent a few hours in my shoes, experiencing confusion, rudeness and danger.

My career had taken off when in 1999, as a glossy editor, I hugged Brazilian bombshell Gisele Bündchen, backstage at Dior, and wrote she had the fragility of a sparrow. Cue an aggressive letter from her model agent and a round robin from fellow magazine editors ostracising me for speaking up. But I'm doing so again, this time about Ariana – not accusing her of 'a kind of violence' as one female columnist posited recently, not body shaming, but because I don't want her to endure the life I've had: unable to swallow even half a banana, unable to be loved, even by myself. I still possess the Ariana chest plate, a xylophone she exposes proudly like a badge, evidence she has a modicum of control over her life.

Fewer than half of sufferers recover from an eating disorder. I predicted Amy would be dead by the age of 25; I was just two years out. The photo of Ariana crouched in a guitar case will stay with me forever.