onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

Archive for the tag “food boundaries”

Getting over any it

Before I got my eating under control in my late 20s, it always felt like nothing would ever change. All of the bad things seemed to stick around. All of my problems seemed linked to my “being.” When people said this too shall pass, I often felt like no. Not *this*! This is set in stone. 

And there is a saying. What you resist persists. Which I believe. Resistance is an acknowledgment of something. Acknowledgment is a form of power. And of course a big part of the persistence is perspective. There only ever seemed like one, impossible way to solve any problem. 

By quitting simple sugar and carbohydrates I changed myself. First I changed my perspective on what I was capable of. Like the ability to not eat compulsively. The ability to keep my word and my commitments. And then, slowly but surely I became a person I had once believed I was not and could not be. 

I believed I was not meant to be one of those people who watches what they eat and works out. I was terrified and traumatized by doctors, so I never sought medical help if I could at all avoid it. I had a lot of excuses that felt REAL! They felt true. And I had so much evidence. 

And then after choosing to get control of my eating I became a person who takes care of herself. After the food, moderating my caffeine lead to getting better sleep. I became a person who wanted to use her body. Working out lead to loving my body at any size. Going to the doctor lead to learning I have exercise induced asthma, and making my workouts actually easy and enjoyable. And getting an antidepressant that changed my entire outlook on life. 

I don’t usually think about it this way but I needed to get over some idea about myself. Or the world. Or myself in the world. 

It is only after getting my eating under control that I had the mental and emotional space to deal with all of the fears and worries I was living with. At 48, troubles I had at 25 that I could not imagine a solution to, aren’t even a blip on my radar. Fears for my future that used to paralyze me are gone, non-issues. I am the most content I have ever been with myself and my life. 

I just had to get over it first. Any it.

Tips on how to eat more

I’m hungry and tired lately. Maybe it’s the change of seasons. Maybe it’s the switch from over a pound of melon every morning for breakfast to a big (14 ish oz) apple, that is delicious, but does not weigh over a pound. Or maybe it’s spending my days with a not quite 4 month old kitten. But I’m rarely fully rested and satisfied lately. 

I like to feel stuffed. I like to feel a little overfull. I prefer that to any kind of hunger. And once that was a source of deep shame because I was fat I was supposed to eat less. I was not allowed to feel satisfied!

And of course, nobody was really allowed to. There was a new strategy to eat less in each women’s magazine, every single month.

Drink water instead of eating because you might just be thirsty! Ask for lemon in the water and suck on a lemon wedge. Only ever eat 3/4 of what is on your plate. Drink a full glass of water before you eat so you are already a little full. Eat slowly and then wait for 20 minutes to see if you are still hungry. Use a smaller plate to trick your brain into thinking there is more food. 

All of these are things normal women did and do on a regular basis to eat less. Just so that they could take up less space in the world.

I don’t have a “done” button. It’s a part of my addiction. I don’t know when I have had enough. I could literally eat a whole other meal after every single meal. Even after 19+ years of having my eating under control. I’m telling you sometimes I eat POUNDS OF FOOD, and *could* literally do the whole thing again. Which is why I have a food program to this day. 

But I do have the capacity to feel happily stuffed and I love that I no longer feel beholden to the idea that I should always eat less if I can. I eat more. I eat the biggest and the best. I eat to be satisfied. And to not be satisfied is the exception and not the rule.

I always wanted to eat more and I was ashamed of it. Now I am unashamedly joyful to eat the biggest fruit. The fattiest protein. The yogurt with 10% milk fat. The most filling and satisfying meal I can think of with no drug foods in it.

Getting my eating under control meant guilt free eating. And more importantly, guilt free satisfaction. 

I know this too shall pass. I bet if I go back through my blogs there is a lot of “hunger” in the months I switch from melons to apples. But forgetting stuff like that is also part of my addiction.

A particularly freeing choice

Last week we went to the house we own in the Chicago suburbs, and while I was there I dropped off most of my summer clothes picked up some fall clothes. 

And I noticed a few things. That some clothes still technically fit but were unflattering because I bought them for the me with a smaller butt. And that the clothes that I do have and still wear are a huge range of sizes. Size 8 pants. Size 14 pants. Size medium pants.  Size Large pants. Size XL pants. 

The thing is clothing companies clearly *want* us to have a reaction to sizes. And different people have different reactions. Some women want to see a smaller number so some companies size everything bigger. Some companies size everything smaller. In fact some women shop at places that don’t carry more than a few small sizes because they want the exclusivity of fitting into a limited skinny size range. 

Sizes are not actually helpful because they are not standardized. They are a kind of psychological warfare. Because thinness is considered a virtue in the Western world, and women are expected to strive for it. And I spent most of my life trying to strive for it and failing. Or striving and then failing.

About 3 years ago I started doing exercises to build my butt muscles. And I have entirely changed the shape of my lower body. And that was the first time in my life that the goal was “bigger.” Previously, the goal had only ever been smaller. 

The goal of bigger meant that the number/letters on the clothing tags had less impact. The truth is my size did go down at first as I lost fat and built muscle. But when they started to go back up I was happy, not freaked out. When what was filling out the pants was butt and not belly, I had the experience of loving bigger! I had the option of thinking about drape and fit with bigger sizes because I was not obsessed with the smallest possible numbers!

I quit smoking cigarettes about 13 years ago, and I gained weight uncontrollably. Even though I was still weighing and measuring all of my food. And it was making me crazy so I stopped weighing my body. The number on the scale would mess with my head. It didn’t matter if I thought I looked great in the mirror. 

Because there are numbers that are good and numbers that are bad. Numbers we should be. Single digit sizes. S M L. And numbers we should not be. Anything with Xs on the tag. Double digits. And we, as girls, learn this. From our family members, from our peers, from random ass women on the street making their judgements known.

I guarantee every girl and woman has a number she should be and a number she is. And almost all of the time, the number she should be is smaller than the number she is. 

And the goalposts move.

I didn’t even know how much this impacted me until it stopped happening to me. I did sort of know. You can’t not know growing up a woman in the U.S. But I had no idea how deep rooted it was until it changed in my head. Because I chose muscle. I didn’t even know I was choosing muscle over skinny when it started. I was just enjoying having a butt for the first time in my life as a grown woman! 

But it turned out I was making a choice. And it was a particularly freeing one. 

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. 

From out of my mind to into my own

As a sugar addict in recovery I have a person I call every day and tell her what I am going to eat for the day. I “commit my food” to her. And there are people who call me every day. And they commit their food to me. 

Well my friend is on a road trip and it’s hard to coordinate times so I’m committing to another friend in the program. And this friend and I had a miscommunication. 

As with all communities, there are little cliques and divisions within the group. Like orthodox vs reform. Because *for the most part* we all do all the same things. But some people do some things just a little bit differently. And within these little groups there is often a line between *how different* people can be comfortable with. 

Well I committed my food and she heard something different than what I meant. And it was a little too different for her to be comfortable taking my food commitment. 

But this is the point. She came to me so generously. She pointed out her issues. She even spoke to her friend in the community before she responded to me. And she asked that I either commit to her within her comfort zone, or find another person to temporarily commit to. And then, when I understood that there was as miscommunication, I apologized for my confusing language and asked if the communication was the issue. Or if she still needed me to make any changes or find another friend to commit to. And she was so happy to say that it was just a matter of phrasing that had confused her and that all was well. 

It was so loving. It was without drama. It was two people who genuinely like each other coming together authentically to solve a relationship issue. 

I got even the ability to do that from getting my eating under control. I have friends like that because we are all growing and shifting, some also specifically by not drugging ourselves with sugar. Building up our self respect so we can go into our relationships liking ourselves enough to be peaceful. Peaceful enough to be generous. 

I spent the first 28 years of my life terrified of being caught on the wrong side. Of anything. To be wrong felt shameful. And when I was ashamed I lashed out. I got angry first. I doubled down! I would go out of my mind doing mental gymnastics to spin a situation so that I was right. I was filled with more misplaced pride than properly placed honor. 

But in having put the sugar and simple carbs down and come into my own, truly my own peace and joy and contentment, I don’t have to cling to the things that don’t work for me. I don’t have to be right. I don’t have to be ashamed of being wrong. I don’t have to be anything. And that makes me want to keep my eating under control. 

Also, for those only here for the kitten updates, Harlow continues to be the sweetest baby in the whole entire world. She is full of piss and vinegar and when we play she loves to do all the weird stereotypical things black cats do. The arched back, the sideways walk, the twinkle toes. She’s perfect and hilarious. 

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)

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