My Last Last Supper. It Involved A Lot of Bread.

Many years ago, I went to see a naturopath about some health challenges I was having. As part of my treatment, she asked me to eliminate some foods from my diet, including gluten. Desperate to feel better, I agreed to do so.

I gave myself one last week to eat all my favorite gluten-containing foods.

During those last few days, I vividly recall feasting on artisanal sourdough loaves from my beloved local bread maker. 

I also raided all my favorite bakeries loading up on blueberry scones, chocolate chip cookies, veggie focaccia, chocolate fudge cake, and yes, more bread.

The idea of future deprivation drove this intense phase of one-last-shot, now-or-never eating. I happily gorged on gluten while simultaneously grieving the end of our relationship.

Can you relate to this behavior?

It’s called Last Supper Eating.

Farewell-to-Food Feast
Before embarking on a new diet, plan or program, have you ever found yourself eating everything in sight, especially the foods that will soon be forbidden?

Or perhaps you planned one last elaborate meal featuring all the dishes that would be off-limits starting tomorrow.

If you’re a yo-yo dieter, you’re likely very familiar with this pre-dieting ritual. Maybe it occurs every Sunday night before you get back on track on Monday.

Like many of my clients, you may view this period of intense, frantic consumption—which is often followed by overwhelming guilt—as “proof” that you need to restrict your eating because you simply can’t control yourself around food.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

The threat of food restriction can naturally trigger a Last Supper, farewell-to-food feast. It’s human nature to respond this way when deprivation and scarcity are just around the corner.

Yet, it’s so easy to go into self-blame and shame.

How to End Last Supper Eating
Intuitive Eating puts an end to Last Supper Eating.

With Intuitive Eating, there is no deprivation. You have unconditional permission to eat whatever looks good, tastes good, and feels good in your body.

Instead of depriving yourself and eating according to a set of rules, you ask yourself questions such as: What will hit the spot? What will satisfy my needs and desires? Is this satisfying? Do I like how it tastes and how it makes my body feel? Would I do anything differently next time?

In the Driver's Seat
When I started reclaiming my ability to eat intuitively, I asked myself if I actually liked the gluten-free foods I was eating.

The gluten-free bread, for example, was tolerable. It wasn’t delicious. It was simply an expensive vehicle for nut butter.

Since it wasn’t medically necessary for me to eliminate gluten (i.e., I don’t have celiac disease), I experimented with eating my beloved breads again, along with other gluten-containing foods—and my body felt just fine.

Although well-intentioned, the diet the naturopath put me on didn’t improve my health. It only caused a lot of unnecessary stress and left me feeling deprived and unsatisfied, which always backfires.

As an Intuitive Eater, I'm in the driver's seat. 

I determine what works best for me by staying attuned to the messages my body sends and focusing on what's satisfying.

If I skip a particular food because I don’t like how it tastes or feels in my body, I don’t view it as deprivation as I know I can have it if I truly want it, now or in the future.

It's such a relief to know I’ve had my last Last Supper.

I Love This Summer Delight. My Food Police Doesn't Want Me To.

How do you feel about zucchini?

It’s not a favorite of mine.

I just think it doesn’t bring much to the party flavor-wise.

I do, however, love zucchini bread—making it and eating it. 

Well, that’s not entirely true. While I do enjoy making it for the most part, I do not enjoy the messy act of shredding the zucchini. 

Although it’s a pain to clean up, this doesn’t stop me from gathering zucchini from my family’s garden and baking multiple loaves throughout the summer. 

But let’s face it. Traditional zucchini bread, in my opinion, can be a bit ho-hum. 

I like to jazz it up by adding an abundance of walnuts and dark chocolate chips. Doing so adds additional layers of flavor and texture resulting in a truly yummy summer delight.

Knowing I have a freshly baked loaf of nutty, chocolatey zucchini bread to relish with a few mugs of piping-hot tea in the morning always makes me a bit more excited to get out of bed. I especially love dunking pieces of it in my tea as doing so turns the chocolate chips warm and gooey.

Food Police Spoiled It
There was once a time in my life when I couldn’t enjoy my homemade zucchini bread with such gusto. 

When I was entrenched in diet culture, my inner Food Police, the voice in my head that’s always trying to make me feel bad about my eating, was relentless. 

It was loud, critical and punitive. It made me feel guilty and regretful of my choices. 

It told me I shouldn’t be eating zucchini bread, that desiring it was wrong, that I needed to restrict my consumption, that I needed to make it a rare treat, that I should at least use a low-cal recipe.

It made me feel like I couldn’t be trusted with it, that it would be better to give it to a neighbor, take it to my coworkers, put it in the freezer, or just toss it in the trash.

As with many other foods it deemed bad, it insisted on spoling my relationship with zucchini bread. 

Instilled a Deprivation Mindset
By instilling a deprivation mindset, my Food Police caused me to obsess about the zucchini bread. All day long, I wanted to go back into the kitchen for more but, according to my Food Police, doing so was a big no-no.

My preoccupation with the zucchini bread wasn’t due to a lack of willpower, weak self-control or food addiction. It was a natural human response to deprivation and scarcity.

My brain perceived my Food Police’s command to deprive myself as a threat that scarcity was just around the corner. To protect me, it urged me to consume the zucchini bread as quickly as possible before there was a shortage. Basically, it was telling me to “Get it all now before it’s gone!”

Of course, I didn’t know at the time that food restriction, whether real or perceived, leads to food obsession. 

All I knew was that my Food Police made me feel like crap and I was tired of feeling crappy about my eating. Something had to change.

With help from some wise guides, I started to divest from diet culture, defy my Food Police and give myself unconditional permission to eat however much zucchini bread I wanted whenever I wanted.

Slowly, I began feeling more neutral about its presence and the act of eating it. To my surprise, I eventually discovered I could enjoy it when I wanted it and then move on with my day. The same became true with the other foods my Food Police demonized.

Like a Bothersome Fly
I’m grateful I’m now able to savor my zucchini bread throughout the summer without guilt, shame, fear or regret. 

I’d be lying, however, if I said my Food Police no longer barges in. 

Even though it’s been years since I stopped restricting my eating, it still occasionally pops up and tries to enforce its food rules. Unsurprisingly, I find its presence incredibly annoying.

A big difference between my restriction days and now is how I respond to my inner Food Police, which, infuriatingly, may never completely go away due to how deeply pervasive and ingrained diet culture messaging can be.

Today, I no longer listen to my Food Police or abide by its commands. Instead, I swat it away like a bothersome fly and stay focused on what tastes and feels the most satisfying to me, whether that’s zucchini bread or some other delight. 


What foods does your inner Food Police make you feel bad about? How would it feel to challenge this voice? How would your relationship with food change if your Food Police no longer interfered with your eating? 

Is It Ok to Eat Sweet Potatoes? When Food Stresses You Out

Many years ago, when I was deeply entrenched in wellness culture, I was listening to an episode of a popular podcast that was all about optimizing your health.

The host and his guest were taking calls from listeners. I’ll never forget one listener who called in to ask if sweet potatoes were allowed on the particular “lifestyle diet” she was following. 

I was struck by the distraught tone of her voice and how stressed she was about whether or not it was okay to eat a sweet potato. 

Of course, there was a part of me that related to her struggle. 

While I never restricted sweet potatoes, I certainly restricted many other foods I considered “bad."

Like her, I often felt confused about what I should or shouldn’t be eating and feared breaking a food rule as doing so felt catastrophic. I identified with her desire to eat perfectly and her need to be in control of every morsel she consumed.

And, I understood all too well the overwhelming, relentless stress and anxiety that comes along with all of this. 

I Felt Sad, Too
However, there was also a part of me that felt sad—sad for her and sad about the entire situation. 

I remember thinking there was something not quite right about being so stressed out about eating a particular food—and something not quite right about three adults discussing the pros and cons of her eating it.

It was distressing to consider how much time and energy we were all wasting on our quest to be perfect, healthy eaters when there were so many more important, meaningful and fulfilling things to focus on. 

Was this really the best use of our lives? 

And, if what we were doing in the “name of health” was causing us so much emotional stress, was it really healthy?

Started to Question
It was moments like these that caused me to start questioning wellness culture, which is mostly diet culture in disguise, and my participation in it.

I was beginning to see the many ways it can trigger disordered eating with all its fearmongering, good and bad foods, eat this, not that lists, and gazillion other often conflicting and harmful messages, all largely driven by anti-fat bias.

I started to examine my own food rules and fears, including investigating where they came from, the evidence behind them, and if they truly supported my wellbeing. 

I discovered that none of them were warranted.

They disconnected me from my body, caused a lot of needless suffering and stress, and stopped me from having an intuitive, satisfying and peaceful relationship with food.

Of course, if I had a health condition that necessitated avoiding a specific food, like Celiac disease or a shellfish allergy, trepidation about consuming gluten, shrimp, etc. would be an understandable, rational fear. 

I hope the sweet-potato lady eventually overcame her unnecessary food fears, ditched her stressful rules and found her way to food freedom. And, I hope you do, too.