I love food. All of it. Well, not all of it. I don’t like celery. Or pimento cheese. And I absolutely despise mayonnaise. Can’t do anything spicy. But other than that, I love food. Particularly anything with sugar. I’d eat dessert for every meal if I could. Unfortunately, though, this love of mine has created a monster. Throughout my life, food has often been more than just food. Comfort, security blanket, temporary source of happiness, my worst enemy, my best friend, a masker of feelings. As I think through these different traits, I realize I have never had a healthy relationship with food. But I’m working on it.
I have always either been gaining weight or losing weight, with very little in between. What is maintenance anyway? I wouldn’t know. I hear it is the most difficult stage of the “diet” process. Probably why I’ve never met maintenance. In my periods of weight gaining, I am typically stressed and/or depressed. I’m what you would call your classic stress-eater, putting anything and everything before my own health. Food is an afterthought, meaning I’ll fit it in when convenient, and when I do it is with nothing good. Food becomes my escape, the thing I look most forward to at the end of my day. And I’ll sit there and gorge. What I would give to be one of those people who doesn’t eat when life goes awry. Alas, that is not me. And that’s also okay.
My food binges might start with some type of fast food, or maybe some quasi healthy meal that I cooked at home. But it doesn’t stop there. After constant trips to the pantry, I’ll decide I can still squeeze in some ice cream. Maybe a few bites. Who am I kidding, let’s just polish off the pint. I earned this, right? My mindset: I have so much going on in my life, and I’m so overwhelmed, and I deserve something yummy to make me feel better. I tell myself, tomorrow is the day. I’m not going to do this tomorrow.
Tomorrow then becomes today and yesterday and last week, and I’m now in this never-ending cycle of “tomorrows”. I wake up feeling hungover from food. If it’s never happened to you, let me tell you, it’s not pleasant. I’m sluggish, I’m so mad at myself, I’m consumed with guilt, I’m ashamed. So what do I do? Mask it all with more food.
My jean drawer has sizes ranging from 8 to 16. That’s five different sizes. And I don’t get rid of any of them. It’s like I have engrained it into myself that I will forever range over five sizes. And the pressure to get back into those size 8s is unbearable. It just leads to more food. Backwards way of thinking, I know.
Switching gears to when I decide to lose weight. Enough is enough. It’s now time to deprive myself of everything I love. Mourn the loss of my “best friend” (unhealthy food). Feel hungry and tired all the time. But hey, the number on the scale is going down, so I’m accomplishing something. Food becomes something I control. It consumes my thoughts: what I should eat, what I know I “can’t” eat based on whatever diet I’m trying. And then it’s as if I become so depressed from all the deprivation that I boomerang in the complete opposite direction, gaining back whatever weight I had lost, and then some.
I don’t know that I have ever fully opened up about my relationship with food. It’s not something I’m proud of. It’s also not something people really talk about. Basically, we have this “diet culture” shoved in our faces, and if we don’t all look a certain way in a bathing suit, we’re failures. That notion alone is enough to make me run to Ben and Jerry.
So where am I in my relationship with food on this very exact 3rd day of March? In the best place I’ve ever been. Screw diet culture and screw what we are supposed to look like in a bathing suit. I made the decision shortly after the new year to join a program called Noom.
For the record, I am not being paid for this, but I wanted to share my experiences with it thus far.
The most important aspect for me personally is my mindset. It took me about two months to get into the mindset where I was ready to stop sabotaging myself and make some real changes. Prior to that, forget it. Noom’s strongest benefit is its articles on the psychology and science behind why and how we eat. I began realizing that I am not alone in having five sets of pant sizes in my drawer. I am not alone in what Noom calls “fog eating” at night, where I just mindlessly eat to escape from whatever, regardless of if I am hungry or not. I am not alone in feeling ashamed when looking at myself in the mirror. And slowly but surely, I have begun to morph my relationship with food.
The weight loss aspect is wonderful, don’t get me wrong. But the mental shift is huge. I am not moving at a cheetah’s pace, but I’m not at a snail’s either. It has really become what I want it to be – where I take my time, I don’t deprive myself of something within reason, and understanding that one “slip-up” does not have to sabotage my progress thus far. Pulling myself out of the “all or nothing” mentality is why I think this program will have lasting effects on my life.
For me, the food bead is one of the more complex beads on my necklace. It has a beautiful side and a not so beautiful side. It has forever spun between the two, representative of my weight fluctuations. Until now. I am hopefully on the path to maintenance, in which this bead will show a nice blend of its two sides. We aren’t perfect. And the food bead doesn’t have to be either. As annoying as it is, “everything in moderation” does have a lot of truth to it.
For those of you who relate to my food trials and tribulations, I encourage you to give Noom a try. It’s certainly not for everyone but take it from someone who has tried many many things out there, it’s pretty great.
*P.S. As I’m sure you’ve figured out after reading this post, eliminating candy/baked goods/ice cream in the month of February was quite the undertaking. But I did it. Thankfully there were only 29 days of it. March has arrived. And don’t worry, I didn’t actually eat the giant bowl of ice cream topped with cookies, cake, pie, fudge, 4 different types of candy bars, and chocolate sprinkles. Everything in moderation, right? This month I’m tuning in to one of my non-food and drink vices: online shopping. 31 days of actually going to brick and mortars. Stay tuned.