While Everyone Was Dancing, I Was Sneaking Chocolate Truffles

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While cleaning out a file drawer, I came across a document I created many years ago when I was dieting. It was a recording of my weight.

Seeing those numbers caused me to pause and reflect on the person I was when I was entrenched in diet culture.

It was not a pretty picture.

Although I couldn’t see it then, my obsession with dieting and weight loss turned me into someone I really didn't like.

My efforts to become more likable made me completely unlikeable.

At the time, however, I thought I was hot stuff. I walked around with an air of superiority because I believed I had cracked the code. I had finally achieved what so many others struggle to do: I lost weight.

But that wasn’t the only thing I lost.

I also lost touch with myself, my body, my values and what truly mattered.

Addicted to Weight Loss
When people complimented me on my smaller size, little did they know they were rewarding me for having a pretty disordered relationship with food, exercise and my body.

Unbeknownst to them, their praise encouraged me to pull the reins in tighter, to eat even less and exercise even more.

My original goal weight was no longer enough.

I had become addicted to losing weight and the admiration I was receiving. I didn’t want my high to end so I kept moving my target weight lower and lower.

Withdrew from the World
The more obsessed I became with micromanaging every morsel I ate and every mile I ran, the more I withdrew from the world.

I started stressing out about social events. My food and exercise rules made socializing, especially over food, very difficult.

Already a homebody, I found myself staying home even more. 

I avoided parties, happy hours and restaurant gatherings. I was scared to be around food that was off-limits and worried I’d lose control once I started eating, especially after a glass of wine. I fretted that if I stayed out too late it would hurt my running performance the next morning.

I also became anxious about traveling.

I feared going to places where I wouldn’t be able to control what food or running spots I’d have access to. I’d cram my carry-on bag with all my safe, allowable foods.

Sneaking and Bingeing
As my list of illegal foods grew, I began playing hide-and-eat.

I started sneaking my forbidden foods and eating them in secret—often at night while standing in the kitchen in the dark.

I was ashamed to be seen eating anything “bad,” especially the large quantities of it I craved. I worried about getting caught and tarnishing my super-disciplined, healthy eater image—an identity I took a lot of pride in.

Because I was depriving myself so much, my secret eating took on a binge-like, Last Supper quality.

I’d urgently stuff cookies into my mouth all while telling myself “What the hell, I might as well go for it because I’m never going to let myself do this again.”

Relationships Suffered
With most of my time, energy and headspace focused on controlling my weight, my relationships suffered.

When I hung out with friends, I was often preoccupied with thoughts about what I shouldn't eat, what I wanted to eat and how my body looked.

My rigid rules also started to drive my boyfriend away. Understandably, he grew increasingly frustrated with my resistance to eating certain foods, my insistence on exercising every day, my reluctance to socialize, my mood swings, and my need for complete control.

I was no longer the fun-loving, easygoing gal he once knew.

Completely Different Person
I was now a person who would contact a food manufacturer to express my outrage when they increased the calorie count on their soy crisps.

I was now someone who, while everyone else was dancing at my friend’s wedding, would sneak handfuls of chocolate truffles off the dessert table and hide them in my purse to eat alone later in my hotel room.

I was now someone who almost missed a morning flight because I just had to get a 5:00 a.m. run in before leaving for the airport.

I was now a hyper-vigilant dieter who spent more time tracking my calories, miles and weight than I did connecting with others, laughing and enjoying life.

I was so ensnared in diet culture and so desperate to conform to the thin ideal that I was oblivious to how dieting was damaging my physical, mental, emotional and social health.

Stopped Me from Going Back
Although I am appalled by and ashamed of my behavior, I feel compassion and sorrow for my younger self who bought into our culture’s very convincing, toxic narrative that thinness would bring me health and happiness and that the size of my body determined my value and worth.

I also feel gratitude for finally being able to see so clearly how my dieting and anti-fat bias were harming myself and others.

My cringe-worthy behavior ended up playing a key role in helping me escape diet culture, recover from chronic dieting, uproot my anti-fat bias, and heal my relationship with food, movement and my body.

Whenever I was tempted to start dieting again, I reflected on the person dieting turned me into and the incredible damage it did. 

Knowing that I never wanted to return to that person and place again motivated me to stay on my healing path.

How I Stopped Obsessing About Food

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When I was in college, I participated in an aerobics class that was held in the basement of some random office building near campus.

I was able to attend for free in exchange for arriving early to set the room up for class, which meant pushing all the desks, chairs and trashcans out of the way so there was plenty of space for leg kicks and grapevines.

Right next to the building was a small cookie shop that baked the most delicious double-chocolate chip cookies. You could smell them a block away.

While sweating away under the fluorescent lights in that low-ceiling makeshift dance studio, I fantasized about sinking my teeth into one of those chewy, gooey delights—a big no-no on my fat-free diet.

Distracted by my food fantasies, I was often sidestepping to the right when everyone else was moving to the left. 

A Major Distraction
I can recall many times when my obsession with food, especially my forbidden foods, prevented me from being fully engaged in my life and present for those around me.

I remember being distracted at a bridal shower by the chocolate layer cake I so badly wanted but wouldn’t let myself have because it would have blown my calorie count for the day.

I spent numerous work meetings preoccupied with the bagels on the table that were off-limits because they didn’t fit into my idea of a healthy diet.

At parties, I barely recalled conversations with friends because my mind was on the pizza box, cheese platter, chip bowl or brownie plate—all “illegal” foods.

Constant State of Deprivation
I thought about food ALL THE TIME. It consumed my life.

Back then, I didn’t understand that the reason I spent so much time, energy and headspace thinking about food was because I was living in a constant state of deprivation.

As a result of all my food rules and restrictions, I incessantly thought about what I could eat, should eat, shouldn’t eat and really wanted to eat.

Unconditional Permission to Eat
When I finally stopped trying to micromanage my diet and force my body to be a size it was never meant to be, my preoccupation with food went away (along with many of the other harmful side effects of dieting).

By slowly learning how to eat intuitively, which includes unconditional permission to eat whatever I want whenever I want, food took a balanced place in my life.

When my deprivation ended, my obsession ended.

The intensity, anxiety, stress and shame I once experienced with food were replaced with a sense of ease, peace, expansiveness and freedom.

As a result, I have so much more space in my life for more important and meaningful things than obsessing about cookies. Now I just enjoy them and move on.

What the Diet Ads Don't Tell You

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I'm all fired up!

Over the past few months, I’ve been bombarded with ads for diet programs.

It’s worse than the New Year’s onslaught.

And, it’s infuriating.

The diet companies seem to be preying on people’s vulnerabilities during this unprecedented time of great fear, stress, anguish and uncertainty.

It feels like they’re saying we should be more concerned about losing weight than surviving a devastating global pandemic.

It’s Not a “Diet”
In an attempt to be seen as relevant, acceptable and cool to consumers today, most diet companies are careful to claim their programs aren’t diets but rather “wellness plans” or “lifestyle changes” or “biohacks."

Yet, their programs include telling you what, how much and/or when you’re allowed to eat.

Sounds like a diet to me!

I want to scream when I see the dieters (actors?) in these ads prancing around the screen exclaiming how easy it’s been to lose X pounds in just X weeks.

The truth is, you can lose weight on pretty much any program.

What the diet companies don’t tell you, however, is there is only about a five-percent chance you will maintain your weight loss.

They also don’t tell you it’s likely you’ll regain more weight than you lost as up to two-thirds of dieters typically do.

So much for the “life-long” or “permanent” results they often promise to deliver!

One has to wonder how they even go about tracking their “lifetime” results.

Warning: Potential Side Effects
In addition to rebound weight gain, following are some of the other potential side effects of dieting you aren’t warned about:

If you have a history of dieting, you’re likely quite familiar with many of these outcomes.

It’s also likely you’ve blamed yourself, your lack of willpower and your lack of self-discipline when a diet didn’t work.

Please understand this: You don’t fail a diet—a diet fails you!

Never Be Allowed
Imagine if diet companies, like drug manufacturers, had to include all of the potential side effects of dieting in their advertisements.

Here's what the originators of Intuitive Eating have to say about the futility of dieting and the harm it can cause:

“If dieting programs had to stand up to the same scrutiny as medication, they would never be allowed for public consumption. Imagine, for example, taking an asthma medication, which improves your breathing for a few weeks, but in the long run, causes your lungs and breathing to worsen.”

Become Fully Informed
When you’re unhappy with your eating and your body, the success stories promoted in the diet ads can understandably tempt you to try one more diet.

I get it. I’ve been there myself.

The desire to diet and lose weight is completely understandable given our weight-stigmatizing, thin-idolizing culture, our tendency to conflate weight with health, and the illusion of control dieting provides in a world full of uncertainty.

While I am anti-diet, I completely believe in body autonomy including the right to diet.

I also believe people should be made aware of the physical and psychological harm dieting can cause so they can make a fully informed decision about what’s truly best for their overall wellbeing. It’s unethical to do otherwise.

If you’re considering participating in an intentional weight loss program, I encourage you to do your research.

Look for solid scientific data demonstrating a program leads to long-term, sustainable weight loss (i.e., multiple years versus a few months) for the majority of its participants—without causing any adverse side effects or requiring constant self-monitoring.

Don’t be surprised, however, if you discover it doesn’t exist! 

Dieting Won’t Bring You Peace and Wellbeing
If you want a healthy, peaceful relationship with food and your body, despite what the $72 billion diet industry wants you to believe, it can’t be achieved through dieting.

Rather than put all your energy toward depriving yourself for a short-term result with potentially harmful long-term consequences, what if you put it towards healing your relationship with food and your body, reclaiming your ability to eat intuitively, and engaging in weight-neutral self-care so you can truly experience the peace, ease and wellbeing you’re longing for?