I didn't eat butter until I was in my 20s.
I knew what butter was, but I didn't dare eat it. BUTTER! I know, how sad for me. I couldn't eat it because I was absolutely terrified. Growing up in the 80s and 90s, I remember a time when egg yolks were bad. I remember when full fat milk was the devil. I remember when low calorie anything was cool. When I was a wrestler in high school, I remember spitting in a cup to lose weight. You know what I don't remember? Understanding what I wanted to eat. Until my mid-to-late twenties I couldn't discern the difference between what I would love to eat vs. what I was allowed to eat. I was just too damn scared. That's the life of someone suffering from an eating disorder like bulimia. I might represent a more severe case, but that severity starts somewhere innocent.
The thing with eating disorders is everything is confusing and secretive. You JUST want to look and feel a certain way, and the scale or the mirror is the only thing that tells you whether or not you're allowed to feel it. Even now, I might catch myself feeling really down and if I weigh more than I want to, my mood stays sour, but if I weigh less than I thought, I can forgive myself more easily for any transgressions during the preceding hours or days.
I recently worked hard to lose some weight healthily and as soon as I hit my first goal the little voice in my head urged me to move the finish line a few pounds down. It is only thanks to years of therapy and talking to my boyfriend that I realized my old friend, bulimia, was rearing its head. Eating disorders love diets - especially fad ones; the yoyo-ing, the false promises, the silver bullet that never hits the target. Empty promises that leave you feeling worse than before. I think it is because we have lost our relationship with food. We don't know where food comes from, we don't know what to do with it, and we don't know how to listen to our bodies. That's why I want to celebrate a time of year when many of us are deciding to slim down, get healthier, etc etc., not as a time to fit a beauty model that isn't always ours, but because it's a time of change. Change is hard, but worth it. Don't get me wrong, if you want to lose (or gain!) weight for you, get healthy for you, cook differently for you - DO IT (and I'll cheer you on!)! But my one ask is you take a second to ask yourself why, and whether you can keep your relationship with food in mind.
So, instead of diets, I want to lead with empathy.
However, learning takes time and failure. Failure can be really hard, too. It's easy to slip into wanting to do better and stumbling over a bad day or week or month and overcompensating. For the record, I am not a dietician, so I can't really make sense of diet trials and molecules. I am not a doctor (bodily fluids are not my favorite), so I won't prescribe anything. And I am not a chef, I just hang out with one (my mom). So what does that make me? Human. What do I need every day? Food. How do I figure out how to eat and be happy? Years of practice relearning how to eat for ME. I think we can lose our relationship with food when we get too focused on a number and even too focused on instant gratification. I can tell you from experience that the number is never enough, and owning how your food makes it to your belly is very empowering.
That's why I'll be diving into a few more aspects of the history of dieting alongside, a wicked cool study on empathy and recovery from eating disorders, and comfort food recipes that make me feel good. I want to flip the dialogue on its head and put our own ability to make the food we want at the center of the conversation, rather than the look of your body or the number on the scale. I believe that when you learn how to make your own food, you feel empowered. When you feel empowered, you feel confident. When you feel confident, you can make decisions that are just for you.
So check back here throughout January and give yourself a kiss on the cheek for being you. Muah!
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