When Did Food Become Complicated for You?
/Recently, I was talking with some friends and family members about what our favorite meal was 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 ordering my beloved dish.
In addition to those buttery noodles, I loved many different foods, from pepperoni pizza and buttermilk pancakes to sloppy joes 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 I 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 the lips, forever on the 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 watched 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 body’s cues and satisfaction, 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 being at war 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.
