Writer-director Jessie Kahnweiler (above) will make her Sundance debut next week with The Skinny, an autobiographical comedy series about a young woman struggling with bulimia as she tries to make it as a YouTube star in L.A. Based on Kahnweiler’s 10-year struggle with bulimia, the video series dives into what she describes as her own “internal tornadoes.” Her previous work was similarly personal and darkly comedic: the short film Meet My Rapist addressed her sexual assault and Jesse Gets Arrested explored how hard it is to get locked up as a cute white girl. Her new series, produced by Refinery29, will premiere Jan. 27 on the site, after the six 10-minute episodes debut at Sundance on Tuesday. Cosmopolitan.com spoke with Kahnweiler, 30, about surviving her own eating disorder, how she would like to see the conversation around bulimia change, and having Transparent creator Jill Soloway, who co-produced The Skinny, as a mentor.

You’ve said you wanted to change how eating disorders are depicted on television. How do you think they’re currently shown?
In my experience, there hasn’t been anything that speaks to the truth of what it’s like. For me, it wasn’t just about being skinny, it was about controlling my emotions. You eat all the stuff, and then you get rid of it, and your body is literally purged. It’s really harsh, physically; it’s really violent and it’s not pretty. I’d watch movies like When a Man Loves a Woman, with these huge narratives about complicated relationships, and I identified with those stories of being an addict, and I wanted to see more of those on television.

I was this strong feminist, but I was also obsessing about my weight or my looks or my fat stomach, or how throwing up or not eating carbs was something that a weak woman did. I went to a private school, and I was always the loud, happy, hippie kid that smoked a lot of weed — not somebody you would really think of as having an eating disorder. I found bulimia when I was 16 [she’s now 30], and I thought I had the secret key to life. I can stuff down all my feelings. I can literally purge anything that I don’t like about myself. I felt like it was my own little secret, and I am not hurting anybody. But there was an internal tornado.

You’ve said living in L.A., everywhere you looked someone was struggling with their relationship to food.
I think as a society, as women, we’re conditioned to be thin and take up less space. How do you fit in and make your body smaller? I think the way to fix that is talking to people about it and having these conversations, because I do think it’s possible to break the cycle.

How are you doing now?
For me, recovery is an everyday thing. Bulimia is something I am going to have forever, so it’s really important to have many tools. I am a huge fan of therapy and going to meditation and having support groups and finding a community, because bulimia is so isolating.

Some survivors of eating disorders have said they’re nervous this project will make light of their experiences. What do you say to those people?

I’d say, “I hear you, I totally get it,” an eating disorder is a completely personal experience. It is hell, it is horrible, and there is nothing funny about it. So this show is not going to be for everybody. But I really try to honor the experience of how hard it is, and show the rawness of what it is like. I see the world as a comedy, and humor helps me bring out of the authenticity in those real moments.

I stalked her on Facebook a few years ago, and I am really glad I did. I messaged her, and we went for a lunch, and she has [since] been an incredible mentor and really supportive. The Skinny is the first time that we have worked together. She pushed me to push myself. She has a whole tribe of girls that she’s helping out constantly, and she doesn’t have to.

This project came about after you made the short film Meet My Rapist. What motivated you to make that?
I was assaulted by a stranger, and I never saw him again. Then 10 years later, I was at a bar in Soho, and this guy slapped me on the ass, and I turned around, and I was like, “That reminds me of the time I was raped.” I was kind of laughing, but he wasn’t laughing. I became obsessed with the fact I would never find closure. But making the film and talking to so many other survivors of sexual assaults has been a really profound experience. We see the headlines out there, but we need to create an environment where survivors feel comfortable sharing their stories, their experiences, and their questions.

I am single again, so I want to [make] one about looking for love in refugee camps. I am an American, and Jews once got turned away from this country, and look at what we are doing now. That idea terrifies me, so I want to do it.

You’ve said your work isn’t about therapy, you have therapists for that. But what have you figured out in the process of making these films?
I have learned that I am OK. I struggle, but I am OK. I think people meet me, and they’re like, “Poor thing!” And I am like, “No, I actually feel like talking about it and making art about it.” But I’m sure I’ll develop more issues. I’ll have kids or something.