onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

Archive for the tag “feelings”

28 Jul 2024

To die trying

I have always had my own internal game of tug of war with non-conformity and people pleasing. I was not a kid who fit in. Or who wanted to fit in. Or to do the stuff other kids were doing. I liked adults. Or I liked intellectual stimulation. And I can remember being 8 and realizing that not all adults were capable of intellectual stimulation…

But I was also fat, and a girl, and boy crazy and funny, and clever. Which gave me a fear of being shamed, plus a desire to be liked and approved of, and a couple of ways to get that. 

When I got my eating under control, I really let go of most of my people pleasing. And I think I thought I had gotten rid of all of it. Or at least any active people pleasing. 

But the more I get right down to the nitty gritty of myself, I can see that there is an underlying fear, that *nobody* will love me if I don’t pull it back, calm it down, be more quiet, smaller, easier, less annoying or abrasive, not so loud, and for heaven’s sake, not so damn sure of myself. 

Even if most people don’t like me, I don’t care. I don’t like most people. But what about my people? What about the ones I care about losing? 

Look. I already know the answer. The answer is I become my most authentic self and my real and truest people will show up, and the rest will either level up, or give up. And that is how it always has been anyway. And that is a blessing! I know.

But this is the terror of a child. I am bumping up against a very old boogie man. But knowing that doesn’t make it any less scary. 

But you know what kind of does make it less scary? That I did this before. With my terror that I would never have love and partnership. I spent the first 35 years of my life not only single, but without any hope that I could have the kind of companionship and love that I have now. And now I don’t just have it, I know that I deserve it. 

And that took 7 years of having my eating under control and doing the work to become a person I wanted to be, before I even found my husband. (Or re-found him.) And then over a decade together changing. So now, 18 years in of keeping my compulsive eating under control, and doing the spiritual work and continuing to do it, whatever is on the other side of this fear of myself, is worth it. I already know.

So I will get to the bottom of this, or die trying. But I guess there will always be another part of myself to grow, so maybe the goal is to die trying *something.* 

Put that on my tombstone. Here lies Kate, who died trying. 

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21 Jul 2024

My most complicated relationship (cue the Whitney Houston)

I often think about the 12 step idea that being good at life means that I  pedal while Life steers. And so much of pedaling for me is just keeping my sugar addiction and compulsive eating under control. 

When I abstain from simple sugars and carbohydrates and weigh my food, I quiet the noise in my head. I have noise about food, about fear, about eating, about my body, about losing weight and gaining weight. And I can keep control over all of that noise when I am not feeding it drug foods and obsession. 

When the food is down , I can also listen. To myself. To the part of Life or God or The Universe that is inside me. To the people around me that Life sent my way to pass on a message or a clue or a blessing.

So much of a great life seems to be seeing the opportunities in front of me, choosing them, using them, doing something about them.

Over the past year or so, I have started to fix and reconcile the most complicated relationship I am in. The one with myself.

I have some choices that I need to make. Personal choices. And I am coming to terms with the fact that my life has been filled with people who didn’t and don’t understand or approve of me. No. Not ME. My choices. My wants. My DREAMS! 

And that *I*, in my lifetime of fear and self doubt, have been agreeing with everyone who told me I was wrong for being impractical, or silly, or picky, or any of the things that did not make me an easy companion.

So I have been doing what I want. Without a thought to other people. Little things at first. The clothes I want. How I want to spend time and energy. But I have been coming full up against a wall. A wall I built so that other people could approve of me. Easily. Without any work on their part.

But to tear it down is to expose my underbelly. To give an easy, soft target.

I took an action the other day. Reached out to someone for something. But before I did, I wanted to ask all of the people who have opinions about me what their opinion would be about this. 

But I didn’t. 

I meditated. And I remembered that I was not looking for clarity. I was looking for answers. Answers about me and what I wanted. And whether I like it or not, I’m the only one with those. 

I always thought that being a good person was about the ways you impacted others. But right now I can see that I have been impacting myself in harmful ways. As if that were OK. As long as it wasn’t someone “important.”

The last thing I want to say is that I believe that being my most authentic self can only make the world better. Even for all of the people I have been trying to accommodate. Even if it’s an inconvenience. Even if it changes the way they feel about me.

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14 Jul 2024

The good and bad news is you never get the same Kate

Becoming a different person is hard. Even though I have done it many times before.

A thing happened this week where we had a family issue that required a delicate conversation with a family member and it was complicated. Or…we thought it was going to be complicated. And it was not. 

But nobody involved knew that. And the lead up to the solution (which was so graceful and easy it was kind of hilarious) was highly dramatic. Apparently, though, all and only in our own minds.

But here’s the thing. We created drama. And it needed somewhere to go. Some sort of outlet. And it did. And I ended up in an argument with one person and we are still in that argument. 

My best friend reminds me of something all the time. She had a therapist who said that people sometimes get involved in “a game of kick me” (figuratively) and the game doesn’t end until SOMEONE gets figuratively “kicked.” You can kick them. They can kick you. Or either one of you can kick yourselves. But the game won’t end until one of those things happens. 

That is what this feels like. It feels like a whole bunch of people decided that someone needed to get kicked and I, personally, absorbed all of that drama so the rest of them didn’t have to. Calling us back to honesty and integrity over pity and fear. Recalling us to the fact that we did not know what would happen and that our emotional projections were unhelpful. 

And now that very high drama needs an outlet and apparently I and this other person are the people who get to get kicked. Or get to kick each other. Or ourselves. And I don’t even know how to dissipate it. Except maybe to kick or be kicked. And both of those sound like really shitty options to me.

I am constantly trying to grow. I am consistently working on being my most authentic self. With the firm and lasting belief that *that* is my very best self. I am always working to peel back the layers of inauthentic protection that I have put up around me. And that means not being the person I was yesterday. And that means the people around me getting a new person all the time. 

I guess that is the good news, but also the bad news.

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07 Jul 2024

You *can* fight Life, but can you win?

I was literally just writing this blog about how I am packing up to go to the Airbnb house we are renting for a job my husband has about 2.5-3 hours away, when we had tree roots come up from our tub drain, and water come out from under our toilet. 

So as of about 20 minutes ago, I am not going back to the Airbnb with my husband. At least not for a day or two. I am staying here to meet the plumber so we can take care of the issue. 

This turn-on-a-dime kind of thing used to be brutal on me. I was so attached to the way things were set up in my head that any kind of change, especially one that is so loaded and last minute and expensive, could ruin not just the moment but the whole day, and even week. 

Getting my eating under control meant I could be present in the moment. That I could think. That I could stop, regroup, let go of the old plan and move on to a new one that worked. 

How? I don’t know. Seriously. I just know that when I don’t drug myself with sugar and carbohydrates, I don’t get stuck so easily.

I’m not even depressed. The thing is, there is nothing making this awful. Only a little sad and annoying that I have to be separated from my husband again. We have the money. I have the time. This is a fixable problem. Nobody is hurt! It’s just annoying. What we call a “broken shoelace.”

There is a joke that I love. When the average person realizes they have a flat tire, they call AAA. When an addict realizes they have a flat tire they call a suicide hotline. 

Broken shoelaces ruined my life when I let them. Today, I have so much gratitude for all of the blessings, tools, and grace that I have to let Life be Life. And love it all anyway. (Even when I don’t like it.)

It’s always Life on Life’s terms, whether you fight it or not.

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19 May 2024

Living the loose life

I had a super exciting Friday night this week. A family friend was in town running sound for a touring band and I got to see him and their amazing show. And I got to meet an internet friend for the first time! And it was all magical!

One of my favorite sayings is “how you do anything is how you do everything.” And in getting my eating under control I ended up changing basically everything about my life. 

I never wanted to do anything in preparation for anything when I was growing up as a sugar addict and compulsive eater. And as a really talented and intelligent addict, that was an easy lifestyle to execute but a difficult one to bear. It meant never preparing for anything and then having to constantly worry and overthink and perform spectacularly in the moment. I always wanted to “fly by the seat of my pants” but I don’t think I understood the toll it was taking on my peace and joy. All because preparation felt like work and work felt hard.

In order to get my eating under control, I had to start planning and preparing in advance to have what I needed to eat. I was told that I should be the most important person in my own life and that if I cared about getting sober from sugar and not eating compulsively, I was going to have to make sure that my food was taken care of. And that *I* very specifically needed to do it. 

I must weigh my portions myself. It’s part of my spiritual relationship with food and my ability to be totally honest and responsible for everything that goes into my mouth. I need to read ingredients. I need to ask how things are cooked at restaurants. I need to refuse to eat things that are not on my approved menu. Even if it’s something made just for me. Even with love. 

So now, I find that my life is so much the opposite. I plan and prepare all the things so I can relax in the moment.

Friday before I left I made sure everything was taken care of: My home, my husband, my food for the weekend, my dinner for the night, my tickets, my Ubers, my friends’ needs, my schedule, ALL THE THINGS! And that made me feel great about myself. That made me feel calm about my night. That made me feel like now all I had to do was go with the flow. And then I just got to be in the moment. I didn’t have to worry or overthink. I got to enjoy the moment and the music, my new friend and my old one.

Growing up my eating was addictive and out of control and it forced me to use ridiculous amounts of energy to try to keep myself together and show up for the most basic life tasks. I had to keep myself so tight and reined in, because of how loose my eating was. Now I keep my food tight so I can live my life loose instead. 

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21 Apr 2024

Another make coming

I have been thinking a lot about the addiction part of my life lately. (Not that I am ever not thinking about it on some level.) About the part of me that always wants more. That wants to be filled up. Sated. And never quite is.

People who keep the same eating and food boundaries that I do have a handful of slogans. And one is There Is Another Meal Coming. Because that is what addiction feels like. Dearth. Void. Scarcity and Deprivation. 

And even though I used to cringe at the cheesy nature of having slogans, that one, and many others, got me through. Reminded me that there was ALWAYS another meal coming. I was guaranteed three meals a day. I am guaranteed! I get to eat things I love. And none of them are drug foods.

But since I have been actively trying to create a year of joyful, peaceful, purposeful creation, I have noticed that I still live my creative life like there is not, in fact, another meal (project, idea, time to make) coming. I am thinking like an addict about making. Frenzied, overwhelmed, excited but in a way that leads to disappointment. Half finished, lost steam, too many ideas, not enough time.

In all seriousness, I feel like it’s a miracle I make and design and create as much as I do for as much chaos as I court around it in my head. 

So my goal moving forward is to remember that there is another make coming. 

I already know that this lesson comes with some practical considerations, like time and logistics, but there is something to Fake It ‘Til You Make It, and for now it feels good to trust that stuff will get made. And maybe in the end, with a little more room in my head for something bigger.

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03 Mar 2024

Stay where it’s warm

I have had a really intense week of spiritual awakening. It was around some inner child healing work. And it was made clear to me that around the time I was 12 or 13 was when I really shut down. Buttoned myself up. 

If you know me, you may think that this me who is “buttoned up” is still pretty wild. I think that is probably true. There have always been things about me that have been intense for the people around me.

For example, I cry. I have always been a crier. And to basically everyone’s chagrin, I never learned how to get control over it. So when I say that the crying I have been doing this week is “different” than usual, there is, indeed, a “usual” and this is not it.

The tears this week have been big. And hot. These are kid tears. These are the kinds of tears I saw on children when I was nanny when they didn’t have the words to express themselves, or the power to change things without an adult. They are tears of fear and powerlessness, and have probably been buried in my heart for 40 years. 

Over the past couple of years, I have come to understand that the people around me didn’t feel about me the way one might expect them to feel about a kid in the family. They ways they didn’t like me. The ways they didn’t want to deal with me. The ways they did deal with me which were often mean. But it was the water I was swimming in. A fish doesn’t know what water is until they end up out of it. Except fish die out of water. And once I got out, I thrived.

One of the things that happened to me when I went to college, and then even more when I moved away to New York City at 21, was that I ended up spending time with people who actually did like me. Who thought I was fun and funny and nice. Who thought I was worth time and energy and effort. People who didn’t think I was a know-it-all. People who didn’t roll their eyes at me or make me the punchline of a joke because I was sensitive and it was fun to make me cry. People who actually sought me out. 

All of a sudden it was warm.

I’m not saying that all of the adults in my childhood were awful to me. But there were plenty. Plural. And nobody to tell me it wasn’t me. It was them. No one to tell me that as a child, I could not really have deserved the kinds of bullying and just mean-spiritedness I received. I am saying that I was a grown up before I had any sense of myself being likable or worth liking. 

“Stop being so sensitive. If you didn’t cry so easily, you wouldn’t be such an easy target.”

So I tried to make myself small enough to fly under the radar. I’m not saying I was good at it. Just that it was what I had to work with. 

The idea that I am supposed to let that little girl out and tell her she is allowed to be as big and weird and fun and stupid and overly confident and creative and daring as she wanted to be before 12 is terrifying. One bitten twice shy is a whole different world when it feels like you were the sacrificial meal for years.  

When I got my eating under control, I wanted to be done. To be cooked. To be complete. But instead it has been a long process of uncovering my most authentic self more deeply every day. And 18+ years into it, the lessons and gifts are deeper and more profound, not less. 

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04 Feb 2024

The luxuries of 18 years

One thing about having my eating under control for 18 years is that I’m well into the life stuff. The relationship stuff. The dealing with stuff stuff. 

In the beginning all I could do was focus on keeping my eating under control. I had been addicted to sugar for almost all of my 28 years and I spent all my beginner energy making foods that fit my boundaries, and distracting myself from the foods I used to binge on. With books and manga, and that one anime (Fushigi Yuugi) that I watched on a loop for like a year and a half.

But this shit works. Putting down the sugars and things that turned into sugar in my body, and then taking responsibility for my actions. And living my most authentic life.

It has been a long, slow and unsteady process. It was worth every uncomfortable and insecure second.

The truth is now I have a healthy fear of the food. As one might have a healthy fear of the Ocean. But avoiding it and preparing to resist it does not take up my time at the moment. A true blessing and miracle.

But I am in some life lesson place and I feel a little crazy. A little stupid. A little frazzled. And I have been literally walking in circles.

And then this morning I was telling this to my best friend and she said “you’re the one who always talks about my ‘spiral staircase.’ You’re on yours. Plop your ass down on the steps and have a look around.”

(I mentor food addicts and one thing I talk about is how we are always coming to the same problems on a new level. Like a spiral staircase.)

Ah! I keep getting my own advice turned back on me. The joy and curse of being a mentor and knowing that means being available for mentoring…sigh

So I am reminded that it’s life on Life’s terms, not on Kate’s terms. That time will pass whether I wear a hole in my Luxury Vinyl flooring or sit my ass down.

I keep my eating boundaries a day at a time, and I get to contemplate luxury problems between luxury meals. Truly a life beyond my wildest dreams. 

But let’s be honest. Still uncomfortable, difficult, and scary. Makes me want to get up and walk around in circles.

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07 Jan 2024

Pretty sure my dreams are in the stillness

Over the past few years I have noticed that my New Year’s Day has set the tone for my coming year, though not intentionally. Which made me decide to be intentional about it this year. 

I chose to have an intentional day of joyful peaceful productive making, including crochet projects, comedy bits and improv jokes and snippets of singing on social media, and a delicious dinner to enjoy with my husband. 

And I noticed something in my intentionality to be peaceful; even when I am not upset, when I have plenty of time, when all is well, I am amped up to go go go. I am never really peaceful about being and doing enough. 

I want to crochet that row quickly and efficiently to get to the next step. I want to get the wording perfect but still get that quip out quickly in case someone else makes a similar joke! I want to salt and pepper the steaks quickly and efficiently to get them in the sous vide. So I can quickly and efficiently get to cooking the vegetables!

And I don’t just mean physically, though physically too. I am rushing in my mind. RUSHING ALL THE TIME!!!!

And I want to change that for myself. Because I know intuitively that the gifts of abundance, the life beyond even this life beyond my wildest dreams, are in the stillness. I know it. And I fear it. But perhaps I could notice because I am actually ready to be still anyway. Even if fear of success has always been on my list, just as much as fear of failure.

It occurs to me that that is why I spend so much time rushing. So I don’t have any space between thoughts of perfection in the now. I be careful what I think I can have. I be careful what I think I am worth. I be careful what I wish for. Or I don’t wish at all.

Because getting what I wish for means work. It means being great. It means trying and failing to be great and then being embarrassed about it. It means stretching and struggling. It means pain. 

If I ate over it instead, there would be no pain. 

But I don’t eat over things now. I don’t put sugar in my body to drug myself. And I have the benefit of 18 years of work, and trying and failing to be great and being embarrassed about it, and stretching and struggling and pain. And I know first hand that there is magic in the trying.

(Oh HEY! On January 2, I celebrated 18 years of having my eating under control! Yay!)

Now, when I notice my brain rushing, and telling me to go go go, I purposely slow down. I make every thought and movement deliberate and smooth. I trust that it will work out just fine. And so far it has. And has also brought me more peace daily.

My time on this planet has been a long slow lesson in easing into this life. 46 years in, I may be getting the hang of it.

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19 Nov 2023

The closest to Enlightenment I have ever come

When I was young, late teens and early twenties, I was always looking for something like “answers” or an “owner’s manual” for life. And I tried a lot of different religions and practices. I felt that my life was missing something.

I wouldn’t understand until later, when I got my eating under control that I was trying to “fill a God-sized hole.” It was, surprise surprise, also why I ate drug foods the way I did.

I was telling some friends the other day that when I was in my 20s and looking for contentment and peace, I tried to get into Zen Buddhism. One of the practices is called sitting Zazen. It means to sit very still in a rigid posture and think of nothing. 

If you know me, it may not come as much of a shock to you that I was very very bad at sitting still and thinking of nothing. The other thing that I learned at that time was that Zen Masters believe in many roads to Enlightenment, and 20-something Kate was *positive* that my path to enlightenment was *suffering*! Maybe it was why, at 28, I was willing to give up what I expected to be the only joy in my life: sugar.

Now, at 46, the idea that I was made for suffering is hilarious to me. Hilarious!

The closest I have ever come to Enlightenment is the pure peace and calm of having my eating under control. The only thing I actually gave up was the high, and the subsequent shame that I could not stop eating.

Because I still love food. I still love to eat. I still get excited about meals and particular dishes. I still do little dances. I still sing little songs to my meals. I still talk to my food. I even talk to it at the grocery store. “Oh! You’re a pretty baby! Are you mine? Yes you are!”

Giving up foods I am addicted to and keeping within my eating boundaries frees up so much space in my head. It helps me prioritize my relationships and goals. It makes me like myself enough to make hard choices. It gives me the fortitude to choose the practices that will make me truly happy in the long term, not the ones that will make the moment feel better momentarily. 

Keeping drug foods out of my body lets me think straight, and feel my feelings. It helps me make honest and honorable decisions that I don’t have to worry about or backtrack on. And if I do make a mistake, I know how to take responsibility and make amends. 

Yes simple. No not easy. But the closest to Enlightenment I have ever come.

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