onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

Archive for the tag “boundaries”

22 Mar 2026

Available for connection

Last night I went to a party with a dozen or so awesome ladies, about half new to me. And it was a delicious delight. (And I didn’t even eat the party food!)

There was so much laughter, candor, humor, insight, and love. There was a spirit of mutual respect and appreciation. There was the desire to support each other.

A few years ago I made the deliberate choice to cultivate my friendships. Especially with women. I felt like I had lost my connections to people who liked me, and whom I liked. Not for any other reason than grown up life doesn’t have a lot of built in structures for relationship that aren’t partner and kids. As an individual, one has to make it a priority. Or not as the case may be.

13 years ago, I moved away from my friends when I left New York City to be with my husband. And we were all already grownups. Navigating partnerships and parenting while we were in the same city was hard enough. From long distance, it takes even more. And I am inconsistent. And so are my long distance friends. This is not a judgement. It’s an observation. Life gets lifey fast and sudden.  

So when I noticed the lack of everyday friendships in my life, I took actions to change that. To reach out to old friends. To make new friends. To be an asset to communities. To find new people that I like, that like me back.

When I was heavy in my addiction and depression, I would isolate for long periods of time. I would hide away in my room and binge eat and avoid my friends. And then when I was better or lonely or ready to be back in the world, I would have to go mend the friendships I had harmed. And that made friendships feel like a kind of burden. And it made me feel bad about myself. And all of those feelings led me to want to isolate more, eat more, hate myself more. 

By keeping my food boundaries and bringing my own food to this party, I looked a little weird at first. But I got to be authentic and funny and fully present. And that is when I can be part of the community. That is where I can make a difference. Just by being there, available for connection. 

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08 Mar 2026

I got the promoted phlebotomist blues

I hate blood tests. Hate is not a strong enough word. I have been traumatized by blood tests. And the only phlebotomist I have been willing to sit for in the past over 20 years has moved up in the world. I am overjoyed for her. I am sad for me. 

My asthma doctor, located in the town where my house is, asked if I could move up my appointment to this week, and I already owed my primary doc a fasting blood test for my appointment next week. And the particular phlebotomist that I always went to was in the same area. Perfect.

So at 6 in the morning I drove an hour and a half on an empty stomach, and uncaffeinated to the lab to find out 1) it is no longer a walk in lab and 2) my blood test savior no longer works there. 

I texted my primary doctor and said sorry, I can’t do it in time. I don’t feel bad about it. I will drive another hour and half next week for that doctor appointment without having had a blood test.

I get to decide what I regret.

I don’t regret anything to do with that experience. Not driving an hour and a half on an empty stomach. Not failing to get a blood test anyway. Not learning about the lab or phlebotomist. Not saying “no” to finding a walk-in clinic that would have me taking my chances on a random phlebotomist. 

When I am doing the best for myself, the true best for me, as I decide it, I am never sorry. It feels good. But to know what is best for me, requires knowing myself, my own mind, my own heart. And actually listening. 

By driving an hour and a half on an empty stomach I was telling MYSELF that I am willing to get a blood test. That in spite of a long history of medical industry aversion, I am willing to do all of the things that need to get done to take care of myself. But when I said no to going in blind to a new phlebotomist just so I could get a lab done, I also did *that* with my own best interests in mind. My comfort, my wellbeing. That is also best for me.

Some people would disagree.

I don’t care.

I now KNOW what it looks like to get my blood taken by someone who makes me feel safe, who cares whether or not they are hurting me or harming me. I know what it looks like when someone can do the job even when the job is difficult. I have difficult veins. If you are bad at a difficult job, that is my skin on the line. Literally. I do not regret caring about my own feelings and my own pain.

There was absolutely a time when I would have been FURIOUS about every aspect of the situation! Furious at who? At the lab? At God? At anyone unlucky enough to be near? And I would NOT have been happy for my phlebotomist. I would have only been angry at her for not being available to be of use to me. (Shout out, Lisa!!! You were integral in changing my medical industry experience and I am forever grateful! I wish you all the promotions!!!) 

But the real reason I would have been furious is because it could have given me a bunch of yucky feelings about myself. About not complying with my doctor. About sliding back to not being able to go to the doctor out of resentment and fear again after years of regular visits. Or worse, I would have felt like I MUST get that test because I put myself through all of that hassle to get there without eating breakfast and my doctor’s appointment is this coming week. And I would have gone and would have blamed everyone else for making me get a blood test that hurt me and bruised me and made me have a panic attack.

As if I didn’t have the option to just say no.

I am going to figure out what to do about future blood tests. I can probably do some research. Maybe? I found Lisa because after I refused to take the test 3 times, they brought me to her and said “this woman has a gift. You will be okay.” And SHE promised that if she didn’t get me with just one stick, she’d just take it out and I could go. She got me in just one stick that time, and every time every six months for a few years now.

She has a gift. I know she’s not the only one. I figure as long as I am willing to do what is best for me, I will figure out how to get my blood drawn.

But I don’t have to have feelings about it. I don’t have to be ashamed of failing my doctor. I don’t have to be angry I have to find a new person to draw my blood. I don’t have to be afraid of having a bunch of terrible blood test experiences. 

Also I literally went 20 years without going to the doctor. I think this 6 months without one blood test will be fine. 

I only know my own mind because I have two decades of the mental and emotional clarity that comes from putting my drug foods down. Every day I don’t eat compulsively is a little more of my authentic self uncovered. And it really isn’t who I thought I would be. 

It’s definitely better. 

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01 Mar 2026

Not right. But just right

This week my husband and I had a talk about money and how he wants to move some around. 

The truth is I disagree with his plan. But entirely intellectually. And his plan is not bad. Just different than what I think we should do. What I think would make *his* long term money goals a reality. Because if we are honest my only long term money goal is to continue to never be stressed about money ever again.

But there is a part of me that is sort of trained to want to be recognized as right. Don’t you see…if we do it MY WAY you will get what you want. 

But I don’t do that.

What it comes down to is that honestly, I don’t actually care. Not the way my husband does. I don’t have the same kinds of *feelings* about money that he does. And there are very few money hills I will die on. 

Obviously I tell him what I think. But not in depth. If he pushes back even a little, I drop it. Because I am not emotionally invested the way he is. I don’t think about it the way he does. It does not affect my quality of life the way it does his. 

But I do have my own hills. Food of course. But also other things. After we ended up having to drag our kitten out from under furniture to get her on the road twice in 24 hours last week. My husband asked if I wanted to try to leave her home next time. It’s less than 24 hours. 

I said I was not comfortable with that and probably wouldn’t be for a while. That I would come up with some strategies for making it easier, but I was willing to drag her out if need be.

And he said “fair enough.”

There is voice in my head that says it’s stupid to care more about leaving my cat for a day than money. That money is objectively more important. More valuable. There is a voice in my head that says that it’s easy for me to not care about being poor while I am not poor. 

But I remember that I was poor for my pre-married adult life. I didn’t have high paying jobs. I did what I had to do to get by. (Like a quintessential xennial, I was participating in the gig economy before it was cool…) When I got married I stopped worrying about money. And when I stopped worrying I stopped having most feelings about money.

(Wow, I just realized that’s also true of fatness and Valentine’s Day. Maybe I should look into that pattern.)

But ultimately I most want to enjoy the peace of knowing I don’t need to be right. I don’t need to force my ideas on someone else’s feelings. I don’t need to judge myself for not caring about the things that most people care about. And I know how to take care of myself, and ask for what I need. 

So maybe not right but still just right.

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22 Feb 2026

I probably won’t stop, but I can learn

My husband and kitten and I all packed ourselves into the truck for an hour and a half yesterday, to spend less than 24 hours at our house, and then drive an hour and a half back to our apartment this morning. 

The other day I packed all of my food for those next meals. Then I packed the cat’s toys and food. The cat’s water fountain. Then my clothes. Craft stuff. 

I could have literally just packed my food and Harlow’s cat fountain. (When I type it out even that seems a little overkill. No I will not stop bringing her fountain.) 

We were barely there to need anything. I never opened the suitcase. I never made anything. Food or craft wise. I went from one home to another and anything I brought to one was already in the other one.

Really I just hung out with family and ate the meals I brought. Then we left this morning. After repacking all of the cat stuff. And dragging the kitten out from under furniture…

But even though I can see that I’m a little obsessive, I know I feel better when I am prepared. For eventualities. I feel better when I know I have taken care of my own comfort, peace and happiness. It keeps me from being mad, at myself or anyone else, if things DO go pear shaped. When I am prepared I know I did what I could, so I can just shrug and say “that’s life,” and do what I can to fix it. 

So I will still probably over pack two weeks from now when we go back for less than a day. 

But also. I can learn. That I don’t need to bring two outfits a pair of pajamas, and 4 pairs of underwear for 20 hours at home….

Harlow Gold on the road in her harness giving me the ears
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08 Feb 2026

Maybe someone else will get suckered into loving themselves too

I’m on the cover of Woman’s World magazine this week. I’m in the top right corner. It’s exciting!

Mostly.

Actually I have had a lot of thoughts about it. Mixed feelings. Because over the past 20 years of quitting sugar and having my eating under control, I have learned to separate my feelings about my body from my feelings about food. I have learned to love my body for all that it is and does. And to be able to love it and call it beautiful on my own terms. And to also know simultaneously that there are foods that I am addicted to. That when I eat grains and processed sugars and even some high sugar and starch whole foods, my body craves more. And those cravings are painfully intense. And that even if I don’t have to hate being fat, I can hate the way those foods make me feel.

I think all the time about how I got basically suckered into getting my eating under control. 20 years ago I had a life coach who told me I just had to get 90 days and then I would prove that I was not a food addict. (HA!) And then I thought it was going to keep me skinny. (HA HA!) I mean it did for years. But even having my eating under control, when I quit smoking almost 14 years ago, I gained weight seemingly indiscriminately. Weighing all of my food. Cutting my portions. Gaining weight anyway.

And I still kept my eating under control. Because even though I was terrified to gain weight again, and be fat again, I was more afraid of the insanity of eating compulsively.

I had to learn to honor my body at any weight. 

But magazines don’t sell that. It’s hard to get a before and after shot of joy. Or freedom. It’s hard to get a before and after shot of “I hated myself here, and here I love myself.” 

But an extreme weight loss? That is an easy thing to show.

And I should remember that I started doing what I do with food exclusively to lose weight. And it was only a series of (un)fortunate events that led me to loving my body unconditionally, and keeping my eating boundaries in all circumstances. Not to be thin, but to be grounded, nourished, and sane. 

So if Woman’s World selling weight loss through me lets someone find a solution to their eating problems, that’s another person who may get suckered into loving themselves unconditionally too.

Photo and makeup by Holly Michelle Makeup and Beauty
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01 Feb 2026

Snipped Threads

This week my account on my favorite social media platform (Threads) is glitched. I cannot get on to access it but it seems to still exist. I have been getting notifications but I can’t access them. And the truth is I don’t really want to do anything to get my account back. And I don’t even know if it’s possible. And actually taking action about it doesn’t appeal to me right now. 

So I have been on social media significantly less. And I am all the happier for it.

I am not one of those people who think the internet is “not real.” There is plenty of real news and information there. Plenty of interesting perspectives backed by science and educated experts. There are plenty of real people there.  And I have made real, true, lasting friendships there.

But it has been so peaceful to not be dealing with personalities this week. Because another thing that is on the internet is bait. To be enraged. To be mean. To be justified. To be brutal. And even after years of personally taking steps to protect and regulate my mind and body when I am on social media, that is a lot of work! I still have to stop. Breathe. Remember I get to choose my actions. I don’t need to react. I don’t want to react.

One thing that is not really on the internet is accountability. A friend of mine (whom I know through social media) says that the internet eliminates “reputation” in a way that those of us who are over 40 *had to* learn because all of life was in person. (Ok, fine. Cyrano was managing to catfish in the 1890s. But it was harder and you had to be really smart…) On line, you can disappear after you make a mess. You can hide behind a blank profile picture. You can pretend to be someone you are not. You can have a thousand different accounts presenting a thousand different personas.

I, on the other hand, didn’t take accountability in the 3D world until I got my eating under control. For the first 28 years of life I was just ruining my reputation right there in the open. I didn’t have the skills or the confidence to be honest, take responsibility, or make amends. And when I began to learn 20 years ago, I learned that you can’t really be accountable for anything if you don’t have accountability as a way of being. The way you do anything is the way you do everything. That I can really only be the one me that I am.

I couldn’t be accountable for my food and then lie about my work, or my responsibilities. And conversely, I couldn’t be a liar and keep my eating under control. 

When I stopped eating sugar and eating compulsively, it became clear to me that I couldn’t compartmentalize my life and be content. I couldn’t only be myself when it was convenient for other people. So I became more and more myself. Unapologetically. Joyfully. And it continues to this day. 

Because I am accountable to myself first. Because I care about reputation. Because I choose my actions based on my own thoughts and beliefs. Not as a reaction to rage or hurt or difficult feelings. And when I fail I make amends. 

I am not accountable *for* others. To be liked o admired or praised. I do it because it makes my life easier, better, more peaceful. Because it makes me LIKE myself. I am accountable because when my words thoughts and actions all align that way of being makes me feel free.

I may get back on my favorite platform. I may not. But I am going to enjoy this break for as long as it lasts. 

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04 Jan 2026

Patience is an ingredient

I was reading a multi-post social media thread about how to make the best banana bread, which is unusual for me. I don’t generally read posts about food. As a conscious  choice. 

But I was reading this one for whatever reason. And right there a few posts down were the words “patience is an ingredient.” And then I stopped reading. Because that was what I was there for. 

Not the process of how to make banana bread. The reminder that time does not move at my whim, that things worth doing are often done by process over long periods, that time takes time. 

These are all part of my personal “spiral staircase.” The lessons I am here on Earth to learn. That I keep coming around to but at a new level and with a new perspective, and a new understanding. But keep coming back to nonetheless.

I was a precocious child. Very clever. Quick on the uptake. And I expected to be a prodigy. I was not. 

And I likewise expected Life to come easily to me. Again, it did not. 

I had to learn delayed gratification, and slow and steady, and bare minimum for myself in what I can only assume is the most difficult way. Withdrawal.

But what I gained was a sense of time. 

When I first started putting boundaries around my eating 20 years ago, (January 2, 2006) I would look back at 1 month, 3 months, 6 months, and think really??? No cheating? Not even once? And it was so hard to believe that about myself. About my own integrity. Because I was so used to being untrustworthy. Like maybe for a day, or a week, I could do something. But months? And then years???

But the rules were clear. And I couldn’t trick myself if I broke them. So YES! I could confidently say yes. And getting those months and years took months and years. 

Every day that I keep my addiction and my compulsive eating under control, I know better that I am that trustworthy. That I have been. I no longer think it’s weird that I don’t cheat. And I don’t think it’s “unlike me.”

And every day that I keep my eating under control is a day to build on my learning, my making, my art, my craft, my relationships, my communities, the things that matter to me. 

So this year I am choosing Patience Is An Ingredient as my mantra. I am going to try to remember to honor where I am in all of my many processes, and also that old wisdom:

If you pray for patience, expect to be tested. 

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28 Dec 2025

Twenty years ago and a lifetime ago

Twenty years ago today I was pretty miserable. 

I don’t think about it much at all now. Not even as my anniversaries approach year by year. 

But someone said something to me recently that reminded me that 20 years ago right now, I was 28 years old, I was an exercise bulimic and a regular old stick a toothbrush down your throat bulimic, I had gained 30 pounds since Halloween two months earlier, and I was terrified because I could not see a way out. 

But also, it was good for me. A kind of shock to my system. I had hit a bottom. 

Once I started trying to make myself throw up, I could not pretend that I didn’t have a problem. We had reached After School Special levels of not okay.

As I approach my 20th anniversary this week, I get to really remember the excruciating pain of existing in the food. I could not stop eating. I could not stop punishing my body for it. With laxatives, with bulimia, with exercise to the point of and past injury, with harming myself any way I thought I had to so I could be in a different body. BUT STILL I COULD NOT STOP EATING!

So yes, it basically comes down to the fact that I am grateful for the ability to stop eating. Food thoughts don’t plague me. All of my eating is guilt free. I have a life beyond my wildest dreams. I have the ability to live a life between my meals. And love my meals 3 times a day. 

These boundaries are freedom. This freedom is liking, loving, and trusting myself. This is nearly two decades of increasing peace.

So here’s to my gratitude for the past almost 20 years and here’s to a lifetime more. 

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14 Dec 2025

An almost 20 year head start

I got my eating under control at 28. And that is a miracle. For me. But also, it’s not common. 

Most people (definitely not all) who come into food recovery are women. And most women come in about my age now. I’m 48. Essentially, when their hormones are changing. And when that need to please is greatly reduced.

I heard a woman say that society calls menopause “The Change” because that’s what it is for men. Their wives and mothers change. The women they relied on for everything are no longer as reliable, and some of the wives just LEAVE! (Can you imagine????) 

The older I get, and the less “reliable” my body gets, the MORE reliable my heart and soul and passion are. The more creative I am. The more proud I am of the time I spend learning and making and the product of my work. The more inspired and excited I am.

And I have all of this because in January of 2006 I decided that my sugar addiction had such a hold on me, that it would be better to give up all of my joy (I really thought that food was my only joy) than to live the rest of my life with the compulsion to eat and all of the shame that came with it.

A thing I hear a lot now is “I love your energy.” And they are right! I have great energy. I know I do because I WORK at it. And it’s a product of a lot of things that most people don’t actually like when it’s happening to them. 

You love my energy? I say NO to things that drain my energy. I limit my interactions with negativity and greed. I limit my interactions with drama. Even if I like you. Even if I love you. I say NO! I protect myself first, my family second, my friends third. 

And all of this is cumulative. I am just weeks shy of 20 years of taking care of my eating and letting that be the first step in taking care of the rest of my life. All of the rest of my life. So I have an almost 20 year head start of loving my body, of choosing my own peace and my own path, of living without resentment for the way I failed to measure up to someone else’s standards. An almost 20 year head start on so many women addicted to food, to sugar, to the idea of a perfect woman and the perfect body, or at least a “better body” that someone wants to sell us all. And I refuse to take that for granted. 

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07 Dec 2025

I already eat like it’s a celebration every day

I have been thinking a lot lately about how I eat well as a lifestyle. My husband and I spend money on quality food ingredients and cooking implements, and spend time cooking at home. We essentially eat like wealthy people. Though we don’t live like the rich and famous by any means. Unless you count an executive Costco membership…*bragging eyebrow waggle*

I had to entirely shift the way I thought about food when I first put boundaries around my eating. Eating was always a double edged experience before I got it under control. Either I was eating food I loved and craved and was ashamed of it because I was fat. Or I ate “healthy” options (not necessarily healthy in actuality, just low calorie) and hated the experience and felt like a martyr. 

When I got my eating under control the first thing the community told me was that “we eat the biggest and the best.” We love our food. We eat the foods we want. (Not sugar obviously…) If we want to eat the same foods every day, we are welcome to. As long as it is portion controlled and not a drug food. If we want to change it up every day, that is welcome too.

It meant there were rules that served me, and following them served me, and I knew when I was and was not following them. And when I was following them I was keeping a promise to myself.

And that, just the understanding that I could eat and not hate either the food or myself, was a revelation. And a freedom I didn’t want to give up. I say to this day that guilt free eating is the very best, number one thing about keeping my sugar and food boundaries. And if I lost every other benefit, just that would make it worth it.

As we come to the season of bowls of candy everywhere and homemade cookies on tables and big boxes of fruit and nut breads, I am reminded that I don’t need to do this anymore. I did it for 28 years. No holds barred. And I DID NOT GET TO ENJOY IT!

So it’s good for me to remember that I eat like it’s a celebration every day. And let the cookies lie. (I actually have zero interest in cookies. It turns out that when you don’t eat them for nearly two decades, your body doesn’t care anymore.)

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