I Have a Love-Hate Relationship With Food

How would you describe your relationship with food?

When I ask people this question, one of the most frequent answers I get is “I have a love-hate relationship with food.”

Some other common responses include:

• Bad

• Complicated

• Obsessive

• Unhealthy

• Stressful

• Guilt-ridden

• Difficult

• All-or-nothing

• Controlling

• Compulsive

• Anxiety-filled

• Unsatisfying

• Negative

• Judgmental

• Fearful

• Punitive

Do any of these descriptors resonate with you?

I See It Differently Now
Many years ago, when I was restricting my eating in an effort to lose weight and be a "clean eater," I probably would have described my relationship with food as good, healthy, disciplined. 

As I was so entrenched in diet and wellness cultures, I couldn’t see how disordered my eating had become. I thought I was being good, doing the right thing. 

This belief was often reinforced by many of the people around me, who often praised my eating. I don’t blame them; we live in a culture that normalizes and celebrates disordered eating. 

Ironically, I also considered myself to be a passionate foodie even though I rarely ate anything that wasn't on my diet-approved safe list. Instead, I took a lot of joy in watching others consume the foods I was excited about it.

Looking back now, I would describe my relationship with food as all-consuming, hypervigilant, calculated, rigid, black-and-white, moralistic, fraught, tense, isolating and utterly exhausting. 

I feel sad and regretful when I reflect on that time, and also incredibly grateful I got out of such an awful relationship.

Of course, some aspects of it were pleasurable, at least for brief moments until I reached the point of uncomfortable fullness (overeating is a natural response to food deprivation), and before my inner Food Police started shouting at me (“You were so bad! You need to make up for it!).

What Do You Want?
In addition to asking folks how they would describe their relationship with food, I also like to ask what type of relationship they would like to have.

Easy, guilt-free, peaceful, positive, pleasurable and neutral are just a few of the words that come to mind.

"I just want food to be food" is a common refrain.

When you reflect on this question, what comes up for you? 

And what’s standing in between where you are now and where you would like to be?

What I'm Consuming

It’s been a while since I’ve shared a roundup of the content I’m currently consuming, so here you go!

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I’m infuriated and horrified by the American Academy of Pediatrics’ new guidelines for higher-weight children that include prescribing “intensive health behavior and lifestyle treatment” for kids as young as two, weight-loss drugs for kids ages 12 and up, and bariatric surgery starting at age 13. Yes, you read that right!

Not only do these guidelines further stigmatize larger-bodied kids and put them at risk for life-threatening complications, they are also potentially setting them up for a lifetime of weight cycling, disordered eating and exercise, eating disorders, body dissatisfaction and more adverse outcomes.

Journalist Virginia Sole-Smith shares her thoughts on this here:

Why the New Obesity Guidelines for Kids Terrify Me [New York Times, gift link]

And, in her Weight and Healthcare newsletter, researcher Ragen Chastain digs deep into the guidelines to reveal undisclosed conflicts of interest, unsupportive claims, inadequate research and more:

Dangerous New American Academy of Pediatrics Guidelines for Higher-Weight Children [Substack]

Serious Issues with the American Academy of Pediatrics Guidelines for Higher-Weight Children and Adolescents [Substack]

Testing the Claim That Pediatric Weight Management Interventions Decrease Eating Disorders [Substack] 

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Every Single Diet (Even When You Don’t Use That Word) is About These 15 Awful Things [Medium]
Writer Savala Nolan nails it in this article regarding many of the ways dieting is so very problematic, including some you may not even be aware of.

“My Weight Watchers memberships didn’t come with a pamphlet explaining that there is no data showing that weight suppression works beyond a brief time except on the rarest of occasions, or that food restriction often leads to binging, or that dieting might cause all types of physical and emotional harm, or that fatness was fine and I was terrific as-is, or that the whole shebang was rooted in anti-Blackness and, hey, being Black myself I might want to think twice about that. Like the dark side of all industries, the dark side of dieting isn’t advertised.”

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It’s a Big Fat Deal: How Schools Teach Contempt for Fat People—and What We Can Do About It [Rethinking Schools]
This article by teacher and writer Katy Alexander is essential reading for anyone who works with kids, has fat kids, was a fat kid, or just plain loves kids. Don’t miss their “For My Fatties” poem at the end.

“Fat kids don’t need you to save them from being fat. They need you to save them from your own feelings about fat and our fatphobic culture.”

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You Just Need to Lose Weight: And 19 Other Myths About Fat People 
Aubrey Gordon’s second book is just as powerful as her first one and both should be required reading for everyone. And if you aren’t listening to her Maintenance Phase podcast yet, I highly recommend you start today.

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Big Girl: A Novel
I’m wrapping up with this tender, hilarious and heartbreaking novel by Mecca Jamilah Sullivan about a fat Black girl coming of age in gentrifying 1990s Harlem who dares to take up space in a world that relentlessly tries to shrink her.

Note: In alliance with the fat-acceptance community, I use fat as a neutral descriptor.

My Resolution Went Awry

A few decades ago, I started the new year resolving to lose weight once and for all. 

After years of attempting to reach my ideal size, I was more determined than ever to drop some pounds and keep them off for good. 

My initial strategy was to ramp up my exercise and make different food choices, like eating more vegetables and fewer sweets. Seemed reasonable enough.

After losing a few pounds, people started complimenting me on my smaller size (“You look so good!”) and my eating decisions (“You’re so good!”). Their praise felt really good—and it motivated me to pull the reins in tighter. 

Downward Spiral
What seemed like a healthy resolution quickly spiraled into a disordered relationship with food and exercise. 

My list of food and exercise rules grew. I cut out more and more foods and ran more and more miles. 

I meticulously counted calories in and out (on paper and spreadsheets—apps weren't a thing back then).

Soon, my entire life was consumed by my desire to control my weight. I thought about food and my body constantly.

I neglected my relationships, my job, my social life—basically anything that threatened my desire for control. 

I stopped going to lunch with coworkers because I didn’t want to eat off plan. 

I would no longer go out on Saturday nights as I feared drinking “empty calories,” plus I had to get up early to work out. 

If I did go to a party, I was never fully present as I was preoccupied with all the forbidden foods I wanted to eat but wouldn’t let myself have.

I was chronically late to work because I just had to run one more mile before going into the office.

I underate during the day then overate at night. I freaked out if I ate “badly” and compensated by eating less and exercising more. 

And, naturally, since I was food policing myself, I often food policed other people’s food choices (“Do you know how many grams of sugar are in that?!”). 

I constantly checked my body and kept moving the goalposts. I’d reach my target weight and then aim for a lower number. It was never enough. 

What I was trying to control ended up controlling me. 

Disordered Eating Gateway
Although I’ve shared parts of my story before, I wanted to bring it up again as it’s so very tempting and understandable to go on a diet in the new year, especially since we’re bombarded with seductive success-story ads and everyone around us seems to be dieting.

While I've been anti-diet for some years now due to everything I've learned both personally and professionally, I completely believe in body autonomy including the right to diet. 

I also feel it's important to know what weight-loss companies and advocates will never tell you, namely the numerous ways dieting can harm you physically and physiologically. 

And they will certainly never warn you that for many people, dieting is a gateway to disordered eating, and for some, to actual eating disorders.

When you reflect on your dieting history, in what ways has dieting harmed you?