Wow! You're Eating Again? How to Fire the Food Police.

Do you ever feel like you’re being patrolled by the Food Police, whether it’s a family member, partner, friend, co-worker or even a stranger?

Food policing sounds something like:

• Should you really be eating that?

• Wow! You're eating again?

• Are you sure you need another serving?

• You sure can put it away!

• I can't believe you're eating that!

• Don’t you know how bad that is for you?

• Dang! You must really be hungry! 

• Once on your lips, forever on your hips. 

• ​​​​​​​Are you really going to eat all that?

• Looks like you'll need to hit the gym tomorrow.

• Someone's being naughty!

If you’ve ever been the victim of food policing, you know it’s never helpful. More often than not, it leaves you feeling humiliated, guilty, ashamed, angry, resentful or rebellious—or all of the above!

Regardless of the food cop’s intentions, you have the right to eat whatever you want—whenever, wherever and however you want it—without having your choices criticized, judged, ridiculed or questioned.

Fire the Food Police 
When the Food Police show up, you may feel compelled to say something to them, perhaps set a boundary or reinforce one.

Of course, how you respond will understandably depend on the situation. 

Many factors may dictate what you do or don’t say, such as the person commenting, how safe or comfortable you feel, how important it is to you, your mood, your energy level, or the environment you’re in.

If you do choose to respond, either in the moment or via a private conversation, text or email later, here are some replies to consider:

• I know you mean well, but your comments aren’t helpful.

• What I eat is none of your business.

• I trust my body to tell me what it needs.

• I trust myself to give my body what it needs.

• Please don’t say negative things about my eating.

• Yes, I’m going to eat it, and I won’t stand for being shamed for it.

• Who hired you to police my eating? Please don't do it again.

• You mind your own plate and I'll mind mine.

• Your negative comments aren’t welcome here, now or ever.

• You’re out of line. It’s absolutely not okay to criticize my food choices.

• If you keep slamming my food choices, I won't eat with you anymore.

• Say nothing, look at them strangely, then walk away to enjoy your food in peace.

Despite what our diet culture, including the Food Police, wants you to believe, you can be trusted to make your own food decisions. And, you never need to justify, defend, explain or apologize for your choices. 

My Dad's #1 Food Tip. It Includes Fun.

When I was a kid, much of what I learned about preparing and cooking food was taught by my mom as she was the one who did most of it.

My dad, however, did teach me something that still makes my mouth water.

He taught my siblings and me a nifty trick for making our sandwiches tastier: add a layer of potato chips.

While some folks might have thought this was a weird idea, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. 

And he was right. Stuffing potato chips inside my peanut butter and jelly sandwich absolutely made it taste better. It created the perfect combination of sweet and salty and smooth and crunchy. 

Plus, it made eating fun(!), something we would all benefit from experiencing more of in our relationship with food.

If you’ve never tried adding chips to your sandwich, I highly recommend it.

My beloved father passed away suddenly and unexpectedly a few years ago. While waves of grief can still knock me over, I’m grateful to be uplifted by my many cherished memories of him. 

Adding chips to my sandwich was just one of the many things I inherited from my smart, kind and goofy dad—one that still brings a smile to my face. 

Once on Your Lips... When Food Became Complicated.

Recently, I was talking with some family members about our favorite meal when we were kids.

Mine was spaghetti.

Specifically, spaghetti with only butter and Parmesan cheese.

I vividly recall eating this combo at one of our family’s favorite restaurants, Spaghetti Works, where it was called “Hot Naked.”

When ordering, I was too embarrassed to say “naked” so I would shyly point to it on the menu as my cheeks burned bright red. My mortification, however, did not stop me from requesting my beloved dish.

In addition to those buttery noodles, I loved many different foods, from pepperoni pizza and sloppy joes to banana pancakes and peanut-butter-and-pickle sandwiches. And, of course, I relished anything sweet.

Food was easy back then.

I ate it and moved on.

After all, I had far more exciting things to focus on, like riding bikes and playing hide-and-seek with my neighborhood friends.

When Food Became Complicated
I sometimes reflect on when food started to become complicated for me.

While I can’t pinpoint an exact moment, I do recall starting to view food differently when I was around 11 or 12 years old and feeling terribly awkward in my rapidly changing pubescent body.

One memory is of my best friend and me making these giant chef salads loaded with iceberg lettuce, diced turkey, shredded cheddar, herb-seasoned croutons and low-cal ranch dressing. As we dug in, we’d pat ourselves on the back for making something healthy and hopefully slenderizing.

I remember another moment around this time when, as I reached for a chocolate-fudge brownie at a family reunion, an older boy shouted across the crowded kitchen, “Once on your lips, forever on your hips!”

With my shoulders slumped, head down and cheeks burning with shame and humiliation, I turned away without saying a word and headed to a quiet corner to eat my brownie alone because who would want to be seen doing something seemingly bad?

As I entered high school, I started getting more deeply entrenched in diet culture, from drinking diet soda and replacing meals with SlimFast shakes to burning calories in aerobics classes. 

For a short while, I doubled down on these efforts believing that if I lost a lot of weight my ex-boyfriend would regret dumping me and beg me to take him back.

Even More Complicated
In my later teens, my dad was diagnosed with heart disease and our kitchen became fat-free practically overnight. At that time, even almonds and avocados were off-limits.

From Snackwell’s chocolate-chip cookies and non-fat lemon yogurt to blueberry bagels with fat-free cream cheese, I continued to eat fat-free throughout college because I was taught doing so was the ticket to good health and a thin body.

Shortly after moving from Omaha to San Francisco a few years after graduating, I started restricting my eating further.

My list of food rules grew longer and more complicated. Being hyper-vigilant with my eating gave me the illusion of control in an environment where I felt like a complete fish out of water.

Hitting Rock Bottom
My struggle with food and my weight went on for years until I finally hit rock bottom.

I didn’t like the person I had become (frankly, neither did the people closest to me). And I no longer wanted to waste my life trying to have a body I was never meant to have.

With the help of some very wise guides, I came to understand that I can trust my body to tell me what it needs and to weigh what it’s meant to weigh—just as I used to do long ago before diet culture eroded this trust.

I returned to making food decisions based on my internal cues and personal preferences, including how foods tasted and felt in my body. No longer were my choices driven by food rules, good and bad lists, and how something might impact my weight.

I started regularly eating all my favorite foods again instead of restricting then bingeing on them as I did during my dieting days.

And I felt a sense of freedom with food that I hadn’t felt since I was a young girl.

What About You?
We come into this world knowing how to eat intuitively.

Sadly, for many reasons, we start to disconnect from our instincts and internal cues and instead start following external rules that, for many, result in a disordered relationship with food and their body.

When did food start becoming complicated for you?

Can you remember a time when food was not an issue? If so, how did it feel?

If you were to decide tomorrow that you’re finally done with struggling with food and your body, what steps would you take next?

It’s completely understandable if you feel some ambivalence about stopping dieting and being so tightly regimented with food and your body. Loosening the reins can feel both exciting and scary.

Perhaps a first step might just be imagining what would be possible for you and your life if food was no longer complicated.