onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

Archive for the tag “giving up sugar”

Loving all the places I live

By the end of the month, my home buying and selling saga will be done and I am so overjoyed! I love my new home. I am so happy to have our old home sold to a family that loves it. (I designed that kitchen with so much loving intention!) I am so relieved to not have a mortgage anymore before the end of the year. I am so glad that it didn’t take months and months to find a buyer and have to deal with stagings and showings and two tax bills.

I have a home beyond my wildest dreams. I already had a life beyond my wildest dreams.

That was a promise I was made by people who were already putting boundaries around their eating 20 years ago when I started. They said “weigh and measure your food and your life will get better.” “Stop putting drug foods in your body and you will change your life.”

And I changed my life. Not just my body, which did change, but my very experience. How I felt about myself. How I thought about myself. How I talked to myself. And therefore how I felt about the world.

The foods I am addicted to and abstain from DO things to my body. To my hormones. To my brain. More than just nourishment, they affect my moods and my pain receptors, and my anxiety levels. 

And I have never been so clear about it as since I stopped. I am a 49 year old woman, and I love my skin. I love my body. I love to do my workout. And I love myself enough to rest it when I need to. This vessel is the only one I exist in. And it’s my job to understand that that was not a mistake, it is a gift. 

There is so much the same about loving the body I am in and the home that I am in. I had to love my body *before* I could change it. (Well, change it for the better…I tried bulimia but it was hard…do not recommend.) I had to love the home I was already in before I could get a new dream home. There is something to the idea that gratitude is key to abundance. To be able to change the filter in your brain to see the gifts and the joy and the winks from the Universe. 

So here’s to the next unexpected gift from being this grateful for my new home! 

Goodbye to my amazing kitchen! I hope you make the next family as happy!!!

I have made my bed. I have yet to lie in it. 

This weekend I made my first and last IKEA purchase. On Saturday we picked up some pieces of furniture. When we got it home, we started to put one together, a bed, and it was clear that one piece was drilled wrong. And the options for replacing it were more inconvenient than literally fixing it ourselves. I mean drill bits. I mean saw dust. 

So it took two days and another 100+ dollars. To build a bed. 

Nothing that was supposed to get done for the move this weekend got done except that. 

I don’t eat over being frustrated. I don’t eat over my plans going awry. I don’t eat over broken furniture. 

And I have a modicum of control over my nervous system because of it. I was not that stressed. I am not saying I was happy, but we could laugh. We could do one thing at a time and problem solve. (It doesn’t hurt that my husband is a construction worker and I am a crafter. We are used to that kind of thinking.)

And I prefer to trust that we were exactly where we were supposed to be. But also, we will never forgive this bed or IKEA. Sweden as a whole I withhold judgment on for the time being.

I have made my bed. I have yet to lie in it. 

Even today of all days

Yes, I woke up at 5:30 on a Sunday to prep food for the next day and a half and tidy the kitchen. And now I am in the truck pre moving some weird odds and ends to our condo before the movers come in a week and a half. Then we head to the house we are selling, where the dumpster is sitting in our driveway and we get to get rid of a bunch of stuff I am not sure how we got!!! Somewhere in there I have to call to get my internet set up, and see about some IKEA furniture. And then I will stay overnight at that house so the village can inspect my sewer in the morning.

Yet here I am writing my blog. 

It’s so funny that sometimes there is nothing going on and I have to really dig deep to find a topic. And sometimes I have so much going on and it’s changing everything at warp speed and I barely have time to write. 

How downsizing has changed my thinking.

How having a dream come true in an unexpected way has changed my expectations. 

How not meeting certain expectations has been a blessing not a curse.

There are certainly more things like this rolling through my head. More than I can grasp at a time. I guess when this move is done the whole thing will shake out and the next new normal will begin. And I can sort through it all then. But for now, I am just writing this blog because it’s what I do. Even today of all days. 

But now I’m done. Phew

Gentle parenting my little addict

At the beginning of this year I had no idea I would be moving out of our suburban house and into a city condo. And here it is, July, and before the end of the summer I will be out of a house that I love and into a high rise condo that I love.

And I am overwhelmed with feelings. 

I want this move. I want to go to the grocery store on foot. I want to go to fun places on the train and the bus. I want to just walk around the city as a pastime!

I used to walk around New York just to be out and about. I tried walking in the early days of suburban living, but walking the suburbs (not to mention when we lived in Texas or Mississippi) is not the same. It doesn’t feel like a solo date the way a city walk can. And now I will be close to both mundane and fancy shopping. The lake and river walks. The beaches. The museums. Little coffee shops. Beautiful views.

But I am also going to miss our house. We renovated it just to our liking. I had a double oven and a high capacity washer and dryer, and a rain shower head plus a handheld shower head, and a weeping cherry tree and a Japanese maple, and 4 tall grasses along our driveway, but one that was always shorter and wider and wilder that we called “Milo.” I had lots of room for clothes and crafts and just stuff in general. A garage. A swing in my back yard. A back yard.

A move like this is a big deal for me. It is a dream come true. It is also a kind of breakthrough in my self. Emotionally and spiritually. To understand “manifestation” differently. To understand how the world works differently. 

But in order to understand something differently, is to change. And change for me is a kind of crisis. Every time. Even now when the change seems to be a wonderful opportunity and a deeper understanding of the power of my own authenticity. 

Getting everything I want is, indeed, a crisis to my nervous system.

It’s just that I have made friends with crisis. 

In child development, they say a secure child is one who has a parent who is both warm and firm. One who can hold a boundary with love. And when I got my eating under control, I had to learn how to do that for the little addict in me, that terrified little girl who was going to DIE if she had to feel this feeling one more minute. 

Yes you are having a crisis. Yes it’s very scary and parts of this are going to be hard and painful. Remember all of the times you thought things would be hard and now you are good at them. No we can’t stop and quit right now. Yes you still have to sign all the paperwork. Maybe later we can go through two drawers and see what we can get rid of. You don’t have to do it right now. You’re doing a great job already. Why don’t you have lunch and then see how you feel. Go to sleep and tomorrow you can decide what you want to do next.

It turns out that gentle parenting my addict lets me take thoughtful action in the face of fear, instead of reacting (usually freezing – so my reaction was generally an entire lack of action.)

To have my feelings be in their proper place, as guideposts and stop signs, is a gift, but it took something. It took changing the way I thought, and the way I thought was enmeshed in the way I ate. I had a bad feeling, I ate a drug food that lit up my brain’s reward center, I was calm enough to not care and not take action, and then soon enough I was sober and still had the same problem, now for longer, and still no solution. And that felt yucky. So I ate a drug food to get rid of that bad feeling.

You can clearly see where this is going…(or can you? I am told there is a literacy crisis.)

By not ever eating drug foods anymore, I stopped using certain thoughts. They never got triggered by the reward cycle. The path got overgrown. New thoughts got used. More and more often. The rewards were for different things, like achieving long term goals, instead of instant gratification.

The reality is, that until we are entirely out of our suburban house, are mostly unpacked from the move, and the keys are in the new owners’ hands, I will not be chill. But on the other side will be a new kind of chill. One I have not experienced yet.

Also, if I can keep my eating boundaries for 20 years, I can manage to keep my shit together for 2 months while we do what regular people do all the time. Move. 

No FO cause I’m not MO

I am alone in my new condo eating a delicious lunch while my husband and his family are eating at a restaurant a few miles away and I am exactly where I want to be. No FOMO here. In fact, it would have been the other way around. If I were there I would be wishing I could have my crunchy cheese and my spicy pickles.

I used to love to go out to eat. But now, it is more likely that I will eat better at home than at a restaurant. Because having great vegetables is not a high priority at most restaurants.

So when I was told the place my husband’s family were planning on eating, I looked up the menu and it was clear I was not going to be able to order directly off the menu there. And when that is the case, it generally means I’m not going to *enjoy* any meal there. If I have to get it made specially, it will probably be plain. It will be steamed and boiled. It will be something cobbled together. And not include spicy pickles.

Instead I ate a super delicious meal that I made that was filling and flavorful and I knew I would like. 

Also, I love to be alone with my food. To eat by myself is a great joy for me. I hope everyone else is having just as nice a meal as I am! 

I can’t have my cake and condo too

As I get close to the end of my home saga, and everything changes, little by little until it’s one giant completed new chapter, I am so grateful that I am not shoving food in my face. Because this whole experience has been and continues to be *uncomfortable!*

If I were eating sugar and eating compulsively, I would be an absolute wreck. This whole process may have gotten done. But it would have come with costly mistakes, important things falling through the cracks, and my very bad attitude making everything worse and more difficult and frustrating and scary. 

And I would have been miserable. And even when the whole thing was done, it would have been filled with shameful memories of ways I behaved. 

And all that time I would hate myself. Eating compulsively makes me hate myself.

I don’t hate fatness. And I could be fat and happy. By some standards, I AM fat and I am certainly happy. But I cannot eat compulsively, eat drug foods, eat addictively and be happy. So if I were to let myself eat the way I used to, while I stuffed cake in my mouth I would simultaneously feel better (high/numb) and worse (ashamed) and I would hate myself the entire time. 

It’s not the body. It’s the eating. 

So IF I had the kind of life where I manifested my dream home while I was eating compulsively (doubtful) I still would have been filled with dread. I still would have been filled with bad energy! 

As we get closer to selling our house, and moving exclusively to our smaller condo, I get scared all over again. About space. About downsizing. My body panicks pretty regularly. And if I were in the food, I would be filled with regrets. 

But I am not! I am clear headed, capable, even tempered, genuinely excited and joyful! I know that 80% of the hard part is done. And while I have not enjoyed every moment of the process, all in all it has been a time of wonder. A dream come true. 

(Oh, and also I have been giving away as much stuff as I can when I have a moment. So you know…taking action helps.) 

“Are we playing Whiny Babies?” -Emily Henry

I was having a hard time coming up with a topic today because the main thing taking up my brain space is embarrassing to admit. Whiny. Cranky. Unenlightened. Bad vibes. 

Here’s the thing. I feel personally disrespected by a thing that happened recently. But when I look at it, in context of the situation, I have no right to expect literally anything. It is not for me, it is not about me. So I just backed out of a small event. And normally that would be totally cool. I usually appreciate that not everything is for me. 

So why am I still thinking about it? On a loop? I really don’t know. But I am not over it. I am still offended.

One of the things I know, partially because I am old, and partially because I am a spiritual seeker, is that ideas are nothing without hands. The most brilliant concept still needs a body to make it come true. Faith without works is dead. And there is no faith and are no works without tribulations.

So I can be over here on this side of my screen writing about a life beyond my wildest dreams, and talking about good vibes and the power of our minds, which I believe in wholeheartedly. But it doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know I am also petty and judgmental and can’t let go of a minor slight. (It really is so minor. I’m an absolute whiny baby.) 

I guess this means that there is something that I need to look at, change, figure out. Because I firmly believe this is a gift and a lesson. A sign. Or why would I still be thinking about it?

And it has to be about me, because I honestly don’t have a relationship with the person I’m upset with. And I literally may never see some of the people again in my life. 

But I believe emotions are sign posts. And while I was eating all of my be feelings, I couldn’t read any of directions. But now, 20 years of feelings later, I can feel them, analyze and evaluate them, and then get to work. 

Whatever it is, it’s not a moral issue

There is a way of thinking about life that I chose after well over a decade of having my eating under control. And it is that whenever I don’t get what I think I want, I choose that Life or God or The Universe is protecting me from something I will never know. And it has changed everything in my experience.

Now, if I drop or mis-weigh some expensive food, I assume it would have given me food poisoning. It’s actually easy to “give up” poisoned food. When I missed my exit driving back home this morning at first I was super annoyed. And then I decided I got saved from an accident or an emergency. Driving an extra 11 or 12 miles to avoid pain and harm is a no brainer. It would not make me feel bad. But missing my exit because I made a mistake? That would have been my “fault.”

Nothing changed about the circumstances. The only thing that changed was my framing. But what that framing does, is take morality out of the equation.

Because it “feels bad” to make a mistake. And that makes me feel bad about myself. But there is no real morality in it. It is just an unmet expectation. I expected to get home 20 minutes before I actually got home. Sometimes I expect to eat some particular tomatoes, but then I drop them and those tomatoes end up at the bottom of a dirty garbage disposal. I’m not going to eat them either way. So I can feel bad about it or I can reframe it.

I used to go looking for the meaning and morality in all things. And now I trust that as long as I keep my eating under control and don’t eat my drug foods, the meaning will find me. I trust that Life is looking out for me. And that as long as I am living according to my conscience, whatever it is, it’s not a moral issue. 

And as for the reality of the actual individual situations, I can’t prove that I was spared something , but you also can’t prove me wrong…

Giving Nature a vaccuum

As of Wednesday, my husband and I are the proud and happy owners of a high rise condo in the South Loop of Chicago. Today we went to just be there and enjoy it. There is nothing there. But it’s beautiful and it makes me so happy.

We also just finished moving from one town to another for my husband’s job because he finished one construction job and started another.

And BOTH places are MUCH smaller than their predecessors.

We gave ourselves a week to move from one work apartment to the next. And it was not the wisest decision we ever made. Because instead of packing efficiently and throwing away the overflow, I just moved everything one car load at a time. And too much came with me. And now I have to cull.

This is actually good. I know. I am reminded that clearing space, internal or external, makes room for what’s next, what’s better, what’s currently unimaginable.

Historically, when I have gone through my clothes to see what I want to keep or toss, there were a number of things that I didn’t like or really want that thought I “should” keep. It’s a basic piece, so everyone should have one type of thing. But I don’t wear plain white shirts. Because I spill coffee on myself regularly. So I would have a white shirt simply taking up space. But I had the space.

I no longer have space, and that is so freeing. I don’t need to keep pants because they are cute and new and I have never worn them. In fact, I NEED to give them away because I don’t have room for them.

Here’s the thing. I know that I always feel better after I get rid of things. But it doesn’t always feel like that before I let it go. It feels like “but what if I *need* it?” Which is how change always feels.

Since I got my eating under control, I have experienced first hand the ways that letting go of difficult things is worth it. Every time. And it still isn’t easy. I just have a past reference that if I give it a shot, it will probably work out for the best.

So the people I know are about to get some free high quality clothes. (And yarn.)

They had me committed

It’s one of those weeks where I know this blog is a commitment because I am on day 3 of move 1 of 2, and boy did I not want to do one more thing.

But here I am, multitasking two of my commitments: breakfast within my boundaries and a weekly blog post. 

One thing I learned from getting my eating under control is that something is only a commitment once it’s tested. I can tell you I don’t eat sugar or carbs, and I could even do that for a while with no issues. But what happened when my most beloved grandma made me spaghetti and meatballs and Italian sausage and garlic bread? I had to tell her no. I had to say thank you but I don’t eat those things anymore. And it hurt her feelings!!! And I both loved her and took care of myself too. 

So here I am writing this blog, while thinking about all of the things that I have to get done. A load of laundry while we have a big washer. (The next apartment has a small unit.) Prep the rest of my meals for the day. Pack what’s left of the kitchen…

Twenty eight years ago in the Landmark Forum I heard them say that when you make a commitment you change the trajectory of your life. But I didn’t understand any of that until 8 years later when I made a commitment to stop eating sugar and carbohydrates, and to weigh and measure my meals. Before that I didn’t keep promises. I didn’t honor my word. I didn’t have integrity. 

To make any commitment, to have integrity, changed my life in the best way possible. Because not only did I keep my promise to keep my eating under control, I learned how to make a commitment at all. 

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