onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

Archive for the tag “commitment”

The gifts of being a slow learner

I have my first pet at 48 years old. A little black kitten named Harlow Gold. And if she has taught me anything, it’s that I have not eradicated that part of my brain that does not trust me.

Growing up addicted to sugar and carbohydrates I never trusted myself. I shut down emotionally when things went wrong. I second guessed every decision. I blamed Life and circumstance and other people for every failure. And I saw failure as a state of existence rather than a momentary experience in a longer process. So ultimately, I was, indeed, untrustworthy. 

When I got my eating under control 19+ years ago I learned to trust myself. I was being more and more authentic. Doing things because I wanted to do them, not to obtain a specific reaction from a person or persons. And I began to honor my word. Have my very basic understanding of integrity. Doing what you saying you are going to do when you say you’re going to do it and telling the truth. Things I was not good at before. 

So I began to like and respect myself. By not eating drug foods. By mending relationships. By being accountable for my own actions and their repercussions. 

And all of that made me feel like I really trusted myself. Until I got a little life to take care of. And now I can hear all of my second guessing in my head. 

This is a thing I have a lot of feelings about. That I might harm others. I have theories about why I have these feelings/fears but regardless, I do have them. And now that I have this kitten, that I am already in love with, I am constantly wondering if I am doing the wrong things. Now with a life in the balance. 

I could never have done this if I were in the food. Because I could not manage my emotions.

The truth is that I am a responsible, grown, disciplined woman. I was a nanny for newborns and children. I am a good care taker and nurturer. I have always been able to do this. But could I *handle* it? For me? Aw hell no.

I am a slow learner. I used to think I was a fast learner. And then,  when I realized I was not fast, I was ashamed of being slow. But honoring that I am a slow learner means that I can be 28 years old and quit sugar, 38 years old and learn how to drive, 48 years old and have my first pet. And they can be done with more joy than fear. With more love than punishment. 

To love and be loved

“The opposite of addiction is connection.” That is a pretty common saying in addiction recovery circles.

When I first decided to get my eating and sugar addiction under control, I really believed I was giving up all of the fun and joy and pleasure in my life. But I was so desperate to not be miserable anymore that it seemed like a fair trade. Which I think is pretty telling.

But the fact is that when I put down the sugar and simple carbohydrates and started weighing my food, the food I *did still* eat was better and more pleasurable. And I did not stop loving food or stop loving the act of eating. Because suddenly it was guilt free! So the act of eating was still, and is now still, a delight and one of my favorite things about my life.

But I only eat 3 meals times a day. So there are so many hours in the day to fill with not eating.

And since starting my recovery 19+ years ago, I have connections to fill them with. I have friends and family that I have more intimate and loving relationships with now than I was capable of having in the food. 

I am more present. I am less judgmental. I am happier in my own life and more comfortable with being with others than I have ever been in my life.

And this week I care less about my food because I got a kitten! And I am so in love with her. 

I picked up Harlow Gold on Monday. And we have been madly in love ever since. She is a perfect little angel. Sweet and playful. Independent and silly. And so incredibly undramatic. She has not cried, or acted out all week. Which is better luck than I had any right to expect. 

And for me, eating my weighed and measured meals has been an afterthought. I do it because it’s what I do and I always do it. And every one has been wonderful! Delicious and filling and emotionally satisfying. But usually I am more excited by my meal than anything else. And this week I am more excited about playing with Harlow than anything else.

It’s such a blessing to have another connection. To have another string of fate. For my heart to have another hold in this world.

Another phrase they say in recovery rooms is that every choice an addict makes is either bringing them closer to recovery or to addiction. And I can see that every loving and authentic relationship I create, whether human or not, is a step toward recovery. So Harlow is one more reason to keep my eating under control. To love and be loved with a clear head and heart. 

Tomorrow everything changes. Like usual.

Tomorrow everything changes. 

Philosophically speaking, you could say that everything is always changing. But my life is very much built on routine and the comfort of sameness. Especially as someone who moves around so often. I keep touchstones with me always. I travel with a kitchen. With the same bedding and the same bathroom accouterments. I have my favorite mug at our house, and my favorite mug at our apartment. I have my ramekins at our house and my ramekins at our apartment. 

But tomorrow we go pick up Harlow Gold (we are keeping her shelter name, Harlow, and I love the line in Bette Davis Eyes “her hair is Harlow gold. Also she is black with dark grey underfur. So not gold at all. Anyway…) And that is a new personality. That is a new being with needs and wants and desires that must be honored and addressed. That is the start of 15-20 years (Life willing) of relationship.  

Once I got my eating under control, I got clarity. And I got to learn who I was and what I wanted. And what I didn’t. And I didn’t want kids. I could see that the societal assumption that I did want them, along with the assumption that the man I ended up with would necessarily want them, made me assume that it would all happen. That one day it would be “time” and I would know. But I didn’t. And he didn’t. And that was amazing. And we have spent almost 13 years enjoying our lives together.

And now, at 48, I am finally, for the first time, ready for a pet. And that feels good. It feels right. It feels just the right amount of life changing. 

I suspect that Harlow Gold will just slip right into our lives like she was always there. That my new normal will be normal pretty quickly. Having my drug foods down and my eating under control means that I am good at going with the flow and rolling with the punches. But no matter what, tomorrow, everything changes. Like usual. 

I can want with clarity

Anyone who knows me really well knows that I don’t want to excess, BUT I want what I want how I want it, pretty intensely. And that is still true now at 48. But there are some huge differences.

Getting my eating under control taught me that I am responsible for getting what I want. And it taught me that I really do care how I get it. I won’t “do anything” to get what I want. I have limits. I have personal boundaries.

When I put down sugar and grains and started managing my compulsive eating the very first lesson was that nobody could do it for me. Literally. I have to weigh my own food. Unless I am physically incapable, I have to be the person who puts the food on the scale. (People in my community are really committed. And I have specific friends who have had to have loved ones weigh their food for them after being hit by a train or a bus because they *were* physically incapable.) 

There were no “excuses” for why I didn’t have the food I needed. Or why I didn’t have a scale with me or why I couldn’t do what I said I would do. I was told it was my responsibility to be prepared.

So yesterday, I had a plan for eating on our travel day. (We are visiting family on vacation!) And it didn’t work out. But I was prepared for eventualities! And they did, indeed, “event.” (This time. Sometimes they don’t.) But I was prepared for that too. 

Were they my favorite meals? No. Were they still delicious? Yes. And they were all within my eating boundaries. One hundred percent. And that is the most important thing. My peace and my self-respect are inextricably linked to whether I put drug foods in my body.

The ability to put what I need above what I want came from putting boundaries around my eating. Along with the ability to know when what I want is not meant for me. But also, having my eating under control and my drug foods down, means that I can go after what I do want with clarity, consistency, and drive.

Less to push against

When I was a nanny, there was a very specific trick I learned to get a sleep hating kid to go to sleep. You have to NOT CARE if the kid goes to sleep.

Why does it work? I have my theories. Kids are energy vampires. If you have ever held a newborn you may have noticed that they don’t actually do anything, but *you* are exhausted anyway. And if you have any anxious energy for a kid to PUSH against, they will. But anyway no matter why it works, it *does* work. 

Well this week the kittens in the back yard of our apartment came back. With their very pregnant momma ready to drop another litter. And it occurred to me that they came back, because I stopped wanting one of them to choose me. Because my husband and I agreed to go to the shelter and adopt a kitten there. And now there is no anxious energy from me for them to push against. 

Is this true? I don’t know. But it definitely fits a pattern I am used to.

When I got my eating under control I started to learn to accept that I would not get everything I wanted, and that was OK. And then I started to realize that every time I didn’t get what I wanted, I got something better. So it was actually better than OK.

It takes a constant reregulating of my expectations. Desire, disappointment, mourning, acceptance of the reality of any situation. A cycling through of all of the emotions I need to catch up to the moment. And that hasn’t really changed. But the gift of doing this for almost 20 years is time. It takes so much less time for me to be disappointed. And I don’t have to NOT be disappointed. I don’t have to suck it up and be a grown up. I can feel however I feel. It just serves me to get through those feelings quicker.

So we are still going to the shelter in two weeks to find a kitten to adopt. But in the meantime we are feeding momma and her babies. And my husband keeps insisting to the strays that they missed their chance to be adopted by us. But we all know what happens when a guy insists he doesn’t want a pet….

I’m betting it’s for the best

When I was young, I think 20, I went to a (fairly controversial) self-help seminar. And because I was still actively eating compulsively, I heard a lot of good things, but I, personally, lacked the tools to put them into practice. 

One of those things specifically, is that when you make a commitment, you change the trajectory of your life. 

Those are great words. But without a frame of reference it was hard for 20-year-old Kate to comprehend what that meant. And I was just really not capable of commitment then. I didn’t know that, though. 

Because commitment is only commitment after it has been tested. And getting my eating under control in my current food program 19+ years ago was my first real follow through. And that paved the way for all my other commitments.

Well my husband and I have decided that we are getting a kitten in a few weeks when we get back from a week long vacation.

One of the reasons we have not before is because we travel for my husband’s job. A lot. And that is now another moving part in finding housing for us on the road. So that is a minimum of 1.5 bathrooms, a dishwasher, an in unit washer dryer and now pet friendly.

But cats keep finding me. And needing me. But ultimately not wanting to be pets. 

Besides the cats that live in our suburban neighborhood, that my neighbor has been feeding for us while we are on the road, here in our second apartment, there were 3 little kittens that I fed for several weeks. But once they were bigger, they disappeared. 

And I feel like Life is telling me that I need to find the cat that is my cat. 

And that will change the trajectory of my life. But how could it not? That is a new little (or big) personality living in my home. 

But I guess the most important thing is that I don’t have any idea *how* it will change the trajectory of my life. I know that right now I can’t imagine what getting my first pet at 48 will create. Just like I could never have imagined how getting my eating under control would not just change my weight, but my health, my peace, my self-love, my humility, my compassion, my creativity, my integrity, really just everything. For the best.

L toR: Leo, Gus, and Baby Donut (BD got their own food when the big ones left)

Caring more, but also could not care less

Yesterday, I had a very busy, very lovely day. My cousin is getting married and I went to her bridal shower. And then later that evening my nephew and niece and her girlfriend all came over to play Guitar Hero. 

I ate different food from everyone else for both parties. And I didn’t care. 

First, I made sure I didn’t feel deprived. I ate fatty foods that I love and are delicious. And I enjoyed the experience. Both at the shower and at home with the kids. For a minute at the shower I considered being embarrassed about my very clearly different and weird meal. But then I just decided not to. And I could. Just decide not to be embarrassed.

Having my eating under control makes social interactions ten thousand times easier, just because I don’t care how I land as long as it’s not as a bad person. 

Oh, you think I laugh weird? I do! You think it’s weird to bring your own food to a catered party? It is! You have opinions about my clothes or my hair or my very big personality? ME TOO! WHAT A COINCIDENCE!!!

Having my eating under control is the ability to keep promises to myself, not just to other people. And that, the ability to care for myself even better than I care for others, is where my self esteem comes from. Not from making everyone else comfortable. My self esteem comes from me keeping my life authentic. Even if that means disappointing other people. 

So people pleasing is an oxymoron, of sorts. When I am my most authentic self, most people like me more, not less. And I like me more. Which makes the other people who do like me less, less important to me.

Over the past few months and years, it has become more and more clear to me that it’s time to keep our communities close. That I, personally, want to look at what I can do to protect, and provide for the people around me. And that is money and resources. But it’s also space. And fun. And showing up to celebrate. The big moments. And also, just being together.

Strong over skinny.

Ilona Maher, the Olympic medalist in women’s rugby turned social media star did a cute little video where she makes fun of the old saying that nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. And she says, she thinks feeling strong feels better and also have you tried tiramisu?

Obviously I don’t eat tiramisu anymore, because sugar is poison for me, but I will not give up my yogurt with 10% milk fat, my salt and vinegar pork rinds, or my crunchy cheese to be smaller. Smaller for what? For whom? 

And when I really thought about it, I NEVER felt comfortable, confident, or content when I was skinny. 

I didn’t even KNOW I was skinny! I was struggling with my body every moment. Even after I had stopped struggling with my food.

I was trying to figure out how to be the most beautiful woman I could be. And I thought it had to do with what I projected rather than what I was *being.* And I was absolutely positive it had to do with being small and also shaped like a supermodel. Or fooling the world around me into thinking I was that.

In fact, it was the uncontrollable weight gain that happened after I quit smoking, the worst emotional pain of my life since I had gotten my eating under control, that forced me to stop striving for skinny as a goal. At all. I was eating less food, fewer calories, and moving more. And I just gained weight. There was nothing left but to give my weight to the Universe and say, welp, I guess this is your problem now.

BUT! That didn’t really happen the way I wanted it to for another 10 years. I got more and more comfortable in my skin, but I would not really give up on “smaller” as the goal until I started to focus on muscle. On strength. On balance and flexibility. On what my body could DO!

So I concur. Feeing strong feels better than feeling skinny. Because skinny is illusive. It has a slippery definition, and it is tied, culturally, to “perfection” and “true beauty.” And it does not serve anyone. But strength is easy to see and understand, and to use to the benefit of our friends, ourselves and those we would offer it to. 

I did learn one lesson…

I am very into dressing my changed and changing body lately. Really exploring my personal style. Cuts and fabrics. The way things drape. Colors I want to wear. Fewer neutrals. More statement pieces.

My best friend started me thinking about it a few years ago. Dressing “her.” The woman I am stepping into. The woman I want to be. 

The last time I felt like this, like dressing for the life I want, was when I bought all the clothes for my March 2020 Floriada Keys trip. The trip where Covid broke out. And I ended up not really becoming that woman. The world for that woman didn’t exist anymore. Like buying clothes for a gala, and getting a 3 year long, relatively depressing, pajama party. (I use the term party loosely.)

I have mentioned before that there are a lot of women who do what I do with food, who get their eating and sugar addiction under control, loose a bunch of weight, and basically never change bodies again. They don’t *have to* buy new clothes. Their old clothes just continue to fit. And this is not my story. My body has changed myriad ways and times since I got my eating under control 19 1/2 years ago.

I used to think that was a curse. Or at least a burden. But as I get older, and look at all of the amazing different lives I have lived in my 48 years on the planet, and I can see that getting to live like this, in my body, in my work, in my creativity, in my beliefs and experiences, is a gift. 

I can sincerely say that since I have been in food recovery, I feel blessed to have lived so much and so many lives. 

But also, I did learn one lesson. Even my fancy clothes must be comfortable. In case of another 3 years of being home bound. So at least I can feel beautiful while I snuggle up with some crochet and an audiobook series.

The price of magic

With having my eating under control for almost two decades, the food part – the not eating sugar and carbs, the weighing my food, the abstaining from eating between portion controlled meals – is usually on autopilot. And having all of that basically running in the background all the time, gives me time to actively work on other things. My relationship with myself. My own authenticity and the kind of life I want to live. My relationships between my authentic self and the people in my life. The ways I want to communicate. The ways I want to land. What I want to create in my community and the world. 

And that is just relationships. That is not the learning I do. The making. The expanding.

It is exciting to talk about all of those things and the work I am putting in. All of the breakdowns and breakthroughs of my humanity. 

But I feel like I would be remiss if I didn’t note that all of this is based on me actively having my eating under control. Doing it all the time without exception.

My ability to grow all goes away if I start to eat compulsively again. Because having my eating under control is where my self esteem STARTS. Period. All of my self love and self respect come from my willingness to stop putting my drug foods in my body, and my ability to follow through. 

If you have never been an addict, there is a thing in us that feels ultimately incomplete and wrong any time we are not high on our drug. And then broken for feeling that way any time we realize we can’t stop. That is a bunch of broken promises to ourselves that seem to reinforce that we are, in fact, broken. 

And those feelings don’t go away the moment you put your addiction down. They slowly fade over years. SLOWLY!

There are a lot of things that I get from giving up my addiction, but, like I said, the first one is self esteem. And that makes knowing what I want so much easier. I am not wondering if I should want what I want. I am not wondering what other people think about what I value. I like me enough. I respect me. I know I’m worth having an opinion.

In fantasy books, one rule is alway clear: Magic always costs something. Keeping my eating under control is the price of this magic. Practicing it every day is the spell. 

Post Navigation