Do You Lick Your Peanut-Butter Knife?

I remember years ago watching a weight-loss episode on a popular talk show. One of the calorie-cutting tips given was to never lick your peanut-butter knife.

This made me feel sad. Very sad.

Who doesn’t love to lick their knife clean after making a PB&J sandwich, almond-butter toast, or bagel with cream cheese?

It’s fun! It’s yummy! It’s super satisfying!

Yet now, in order to be good and successful, I felt I had to give up this simple pleasure along with all the other things I had already made off-limits on my quest to shrink my body.

Harmful, Not Helpful
Every day, we’re bombarded with diet and wellness culture messages like "don't like the peanut-butter knife!" that are often more harmful than helpful.

These messages cause us to be hyper-vigilant about our eating. They result in pointless food rules, restriction and rigidity. They lead to unnecessary fear, anxiety, stress, shame and suffering.

If you bought into the “no knife-licking” rule, yet failed to follow it (which, if you’re like me, is highly likely!), your thoughts may sound something like this:

  • Licking this knife is a big no-no—you know that!

  • I am being bad, and naughty, and reckless.

  • I have no willpower or self-control. No wonder I look the way I do.

  • What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I follow one freaking simple rule?

  • Ugh, I really hope no one saw me do that.

  • I can’t be trusted with peanut butter; I’m going to stop buying it.

  • I feel guilty and need to make up for this food sin. No dessert for me tonight!

  • I really want to double-dip my knife back into the jar and lick it again.

  • Screw it. I’ve come this far, I might as well keep going back for more!

  • I shouldn't do this, but licking the knife clean is so much easier than getting peanut butter off my dishcloth!

Does any of this sound familiar, {!firstname_fix}?

Challenge Your Food Rules
I spend a lot of time helping my clients identify and investigate their food rules

We deconstruct and challenge them, exploring questions, such as: Where did this rule come from? Is it true? Is it reasonable, sustainable and satisfying? How do you feel and act when you break it? Does it prevent you from being a relaxed, flexible and confident eater? Is it helpful or harmful?

About 99.9 percent of the time, my clients determine their food rules are causing them far more harm than good.

They realize how their rules are creating an unhealthy relationship with food and negatively impacting their physical, mental, emotional and social health.

As my clients start to shed their food rules, a sense of freedom, empowerment, peace and ease surfaces.

Instead of listening to external sources, they begin trusting their intuition, body wisdom and direct experience to guide them.

And they start licking their peanut-butter knife again.

My Unhealthy Obsession with Healthy Eating

The other day, I went to the grocery store to buy cough drops.

I scanned the packages looking for a flavor that sounded appealing.

In less than a minute, I grabbed the honey cherry drops and headed to the cashier hopeful the lozenges would soon soothe my aching throat and nagging cough.

Reflecting on this quick, easy transaction, I was struck once again by how much my relationship with food has changed.

Hyper-Fixated on Quality

Years ago, when I was entrenched in diet and wellness culture, not only was I obsessed with the number of calories I ate, I was also hyper-fixated on the quality of the food I consumed.

While I had long been interested in healthy eating, it wasn't until I began training to become a health coach that my interest in healthy eating escalated to a point where I agonized over the purity of nearly every single morsel I put in my mouth.

I can vividly remember once when I had a cold kneeling on the floor of my local pharmacy analyzing the back of the cough drop packages to determine which one had the highest-quality ingredients and lowest amount of sugar.

I wasted hours going to multiple neighborhood drug stores that day in search of the “healthiest” cough drops—time that would have been far better spent resting in bed.

Agonized Over Every Decision
My cough drop incident stands out to me as it epitomizes how extreme my behavior had become.

At the time, however, I couldn’t see it.

Preoccupied with eating perfectly, I couldn’t see how disordered my relationship with food was and how this was impacting my overall wellbeing, including how overwhelmed I was by everyday decisions.

Should I buy the local cow-milk yogurt or the mass-produced soy yogurt?

Should I get the expensive gluten-free bread from the freezer section or the cheaper whole-wheat bread fresh from the bakery in town?

Should I go for the wilting bunch of locally grown kale or the perkier kale that was packaged in a plastic bag and shipped from another country?

From green juices and protein bars to hummus and spaghetti sauce, I’d take so much time scrutinizing every label and sweating every detail that my boyfriend refused to keep shopping with me.  

More Rules and Restrictions
My obsession with eating clean and maintaining my reputation as a healthy eater added another layer of rules and restrictions on top of the already long list of food rules I followed in attempt to shrink my body.

I’d snub my nose at salmon that wasn’t wild, apples that weren't farm fresh, and tomatoes that were out of season.

If an almond butter had added oils or sugar, it stayed on the shelf. I wouldn’t touch strawberries that weren’t organic. I turned my back on anything made with refined flour.

Most regrettably, I shunned family favorites and food traditions if they contained “bad” ingredients.

Harming My Health
While I didn’t know it at the time, I was struggling with orthorexia—an unhealthy obsession with healthy eating.

I believed my high standards and food moralism were improving my wellbeing when they were actually harming my physical, mental, emotional and social health. 

Naturally, my rigid rules turned me into a rigid person.

As more and more foods became demonized and off-limits, eating in an environment where I wouldn’t have control of my options became extremely difficult.

I feared going to restaurants and dinner parties. Work lunches, happy hours, birthday celebrations and wedding receptions caused me anxiety. Traveling to new locales became stressful.

I was no longer the flexible, spontaneous and carefree eater I used to be.

Instead, I was wasting an inordinate amount of time, energy, money and headspace doing what our diet and wellness culture had told me was the healthy, correct thing to do.

Healthy Relationship with Food
Thankfully, with the help of some wise guides, I was finally able to see how disordered my relationship with food had become.

I came to understand that healthy eating, first and foremost, means having a healthy relationship with food.

To me, that means one that’s peaceful, relaxed, flexible, satisfying, trusting and intuitive.

Of course, while I no longer have food rules, I still have some food preferences.

However, I no longer stress out or feel guilty if I’m unable to eat exactly what I want. I just eat and move on.

And, wow, has this made my eating—and my life—so much easier and so much more enjoyable.

If you relate to any of my story, I encourage you to see support from a non-diet, weight-neutral practitioner, whether it’s a therapist, nutritionist, coach or counselor. I’m here for you if need me.