onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

Archive for the tag “shame”

21 Dec 2025

The least interesting thing about the whole thing

I have been thinking about my body a lot lately. Because people are probably coming to take my photo for a magazine. It is to accompany an article about a book that talks about addictive eating. And I am an example of someone who successfully changed my eating lifestyle. 

Right around the time I had just turned 28, I was doing a self help seminar and the instructor asked me what I wanted to get out of it. And my answer was “for my body to stop being an issue.” 

By the end of that seminar I was no longer eating sugar and grains and I was weighing and measuring my food. My body didn’t stop being an issue at that very moment, but it was the first step in a long and continuing journey. And it worked. 

In getting my eating under control I started to think of my body as myself. I started to think of my body as a wonderful vessel that provided all of my abilities! I started to think of my body as sacred and undeserving of being judged. ESPECIALLY for its size and shape and “perceived beauty.” I started this blog to really start to dismantle all of the ways I lived small. And hating my body was one of my biggest obstacles.

The way I think about my body and my weight has slowly but entirely shifted in the past almost 20 years. But here is a situation where it is in someone else’s best interest to “show off” my body in a certain way. In a certain light.

And it’s making me feel insecure. What if I don’t look thin enough? What if I don’t impress everyone the way this magazine wants me to?

Which makes me a little mad at myself. And a little ashamed. Because I don’t want to feel insecure about my amazing body. And I don’t want to reduce getting my eating under control to “weight loss.” Because losing weight is the least important or interesting thing about getting control of my sugar addiction.

But I also know that I only started to get my eating under control because I wanted to stop hating my body. And what I hated at the time was being fat. And I don’t think I could have found myself all the way over here honoring all bodies and dismantling my anti-fatness if I hadn’t been desperate to stop being fat.

What I have been reminding myself is that I am not selling anything. And that I am not invested in having my picture in a magazine. But I am VERY invested in sharing the message that if you can’t stop eating and it’s making you miserable, there is a solution. 

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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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26 Oct 2025

Being just to be with another being

One thing I have noticed since getting my kitten, Harlow, is that she pulls me back to the present all the time. Which alerts me to the fact that I am not in the present a lot of the time. 

There are some things that I have learned over the past 19+ years of having my eating under control that go against the modern conventional wisdom. Like that I should be eating to live not living to eat. If a food program is going to be sustainable for me, I am going to have to be obsessed with the food. Or that the goal in life is to be present all the time. I am an artist and a creative. I do my best work in my fantasy world. Literally. 

But there is something that I don’t get in my daydream world. And that is peace. And Harlow brings me peace. A new kind of peace that I don’t have a lot of experience with. Being just to be with another being. 

Sometimes it is too much peace. I have literally never in my life slept so much in the day by accident. And I am not a good napper. I just wake up tired and disoriented and then have to make dinner…

Don’t get me wrong. I have a lot of worries and anxiety about her. Doing accidental harm is my biggest personal fear. But the relationship is easy. And being in the moment with her is easy. And that brings me a lot of peace in my everyday.

The other thing I have to remind myself of is that she has been so easy that I expect her to be easy about everything. And that makes me nervous to do things she won’t like. But we are both still capable. For example, she hasn’t  taken to harness training the way she has to all of the other things, like car rides and exploring 2 houses. And I have to actually do the work like I would have to with a cat with a difficult personality. 

And honestly. The worst she does is give me the side eye! She doesn’t even cry! So I am just that spoiled! 

I have lived my life for myself. And I have zero shame or regrets. It kept me from taking on responsibilities I didn’t want. It means I have a life I love that I chose for myself. But there is something special that I have never had before BECAUSE I didn’t want responsibility for another life. That I am now so grateful to have. 

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21 Sep 2025

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. 

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27 Jul 2025

Maybe leave us out of it?

Sometimes I am really confronted with how much work I have done on my internalized fat phobia, and how much the default response of most people to fatness or things related to fatness, is disgust and judgement.

On Facebook the other day I saw a woman I used to go to school with posting about her daughter’s difficulties since being diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. That is not the thing that hit me. That sucks and I wish her and her daughter the best.

It’s how she went ON AND ON about how it was not her daughter’s fault. Because type 1 is not the one where it’s your fault. My issue being the idea that type 2 is your fault? She explained over and over about how she and her daughter are following a diet based on her doctor’s recommendations and watch her food and she’s a healthy eater and they are doing all the right things.

Here’s the deal. I understand that this is a woman who has only had to deal with fat phobia as it applies to every woman in the Western world, which is admittedly no small thing, but therefore has never had to dismantle the structures in it. And she is a societally attractive woman. So she has most certainly experienced privilege based on her beauty. Which is not a slight. Just a truth. I like her. She’s a nice lady.

But fuck did it hurt my feelings to hear her try to insist her daughter is one of the worthy ones, instead of inherently understanding that every one of us is worthy. Even if we have eating disorders. Even if our bodies are not the standard. Even if we are hugely fat! Yes! Even then!

Fatness is not always an addiction. I didn’t understand that until I had my eating under control. There are plenty of happy, healthy fat people. People who love their lives and their bodies and are simply fat.

I was not one of those people. I was an addict. I wanted to stop and I could not. And even though I did it to lose weight, I KEEP my eating under control because it makes my life better. But it doesn’t always keep me thin. I have been very thin but I have also been quite chubby.

It turns out thinness is not as predictable for me as common lore would have you believe. Calories in calories out is not actually the way it works. Not for me, anyway.

But even if it is clear that a person is fat, and an addict, and miserable, and not doing the “right things,” do they really deserve to suffer and die?

There are plenty who will say yes. And I think it’s quite possible I would have been one when I was in the food and miserable and a self-hating fat phobe. Because I used to believe one had to earn their place in the world. But now that is not true of me. 

I guess I will wrap it up with this thought. Sometimes the only way to change is to think you are worth it. And when you tell people they are not worth it, you are just slowing the process of the thing you think should happen. 

Also, maybe mind your own business. You can talk about Type 1 diabetes without bringing Type 2 into it…

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15 Jun 2025

Get in line

I saw a video on social media this week that I have been thinking about. It was about how to spot and stop manipulators. But the point was that the hardest person to manipulate is the one who is in alignment with themselves.

The person who knows what they want, what they stand for, what they want to achieve and create, and who they want to be in the world, isn’t going to be swayed by anything other than something even more in alignment with their heart and head. 

I spend a lot of time worrying I’m doing life wrong. And will probably never entirely grow out of it. But this was a nice little reminder for me. 

Because getting my eating under control is how I learned to listen to myself. I had so much noise in my head when I was eating compulsively. Most of it was about food and eating and craving, but it was also about shame. What I did wrong. What I failed to do. How I was lacking. How I was broken. How I was ugly and wrong.

When I was in the food, I could not see what I wanted. And if I thought I could, but the world didn’t agree, I assumed I was wrong, not the world. 

But here’s the thing. The world often doesn’t agree with me. I’m not particularly interested in its conventions. And once I made friends with that, it was easier to be authentic. After all, the world doesn’t really want me to quit sugar and grains. It upsets a whole group. People who have zero stake in my eating have had all sorts of opinions about it. Strangers! And there is a whole ultra specific group that thinks that what I do is not only useless but harmful. People on the internet insisting that sugar addiction isn’t a thing. That it is about food morality. That I am a fatphobe monster because I assert that I have a problem with sugar and that sugar can be addictive. 

Look. Just to clarify, I don’t think every fat person is an addict. I don’t care if a person is fat. I don’t think fat people need to lose weight. I don’t think that anyone owes anyone else any explanations of their food or their body.

But I was getting drunk on sugar from childhood and it was ruining my life. And want to help a compulsive eater and sugar addict who still suffers. (P.S. Not all sugar addicts are fat. I want to help them too.)

But that is part of how getting my eating under control helped me align myself and my principles and my past. It was only in putting boundaries around my eating that I could separate my fatness from my addiction. Come to love my body in all its iterations. To feed it nourishing foods. And not worry about health or weight. Just worry about not doing my drug foods. Just worry about not using. Take the morality *out* of food.

And every time I make a choice that makes people who are not me look at me funny, I remember who I am, what I want, what I want to create and what legacy I am leaving. And I have enough clarity of mind and purpose to actually know the answer. And all of that is the culmination of 19 1/2 years of keeping boundaries around my eating. 

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04 May 2025

Impact. Not intention.

I made a joke on social media this week that landed so badly. I meant it to be a word joke. But if I had rubbed two brain cells together I would have realized it could be taken as racist. So I made a racist joke. (FUCK!) And I was even slow on the uptake and when someone said “that’s not funny” I thought they meant my pun! (FUCKING FUCK!!!)

I am obviously rightly, deeply humbled and ashamed. I harmed a parasocial relationship I enjoyed with a woman I like and respect as well as harming a group of people.

I considered not writing about it this week. Not bringing other people’s attention to it. It’s embarrassing and emotional. I had to ask myself if I meant it subconsciously, which was terrifying. (I do not believe it was a subconscious thing. I do believe it was a true accident.) And yes I hate the idea of looking like a terrible person. But I did a thing. It’s out in the world. Even if I wish I could take it back.

It’s not a thing I can take back. It had an awful and ugly impact. Intentions pave the road to hell. Of course I deleted and apologized. And I sent a private message apologizing and offering amends. But the harm is done. And I am the only responsible party.

But this is my blog about me. And for a moment I want to separate what I did to her, from me, and my own personal growth in the face of this. Because there is something else that is deeper in there for me, about me accidentally hurting people and how it has haunted me in my life. And when I was talking to my best friend about this particular incident, what I did and how I was ashamed, I started talking about some of the times in my life that I accidentally harmed people and when I got to when I was 5 and I laughed when a girl fell but she hurt herself, I started to hyperventilate cry, the way I would when I was 5 years old.

Also, just to be clear, this list of my harms does not include any other racisms. This is not a regular occurrence for me. It’s things like when I was 10 and I accidentally sat on a classmate and I sprained his ankle, or the time I was 30 and said *in front of my friend’s boyfriend* that a different guy we knew should be her new boyfriend. This coming to terms with the unintentional harm I do and trying to mend it is apparently a long time coming for me. A lesson about myself. 

But in the end for this specific incident, it’s still impact not intention.

I am clear that I am not the victim. I am the perpetrator. I harmed another person. It doesn’t matter that it was not on purpose. It doesn’t matter that it was on the internet. It does not matter that I did not mean it. I was absolutely unsafe for another person.

I have also been in physical pain on and off over it. The humiliation and shame. A loop of dread. And the question of what to do to get complete with having done harm and knowing I do not want to do it again. But being afraid that I will do it again. I can’t pretend it doesn’t matter. This is not an “it’s in the past” so I should let it go kind of situation. Because I am clearly haunted right now.

I talked to my best friend about it. Because she has her eating under control. And because she is not going to tell me that it’s ok because I didn’t mean it.

She is going to tell me that it’s my responsibility to clean my side of the street.

I hope sincerely that the woman I harmed does not give a flying fuck about me. I hope I am barely a blip on her radar. And while I would be honored to make amends, she has not requested that. So I am leaving her alone and fixing my own shit for myself with my own spiritual community. The people who will not try to tell me that it’s all fine. The people who help me be responsible, accountable, a person with integrity.

So I need to come up with an action to take for me. An amends I can make to somehow mend the break I made in my own world. Because again, it’s about impact. Not intention. And I also hurt myself by harming her. So I need to get myself right with me!

Like my best friend told me: You don’t get to let yourself off the hook but you do have to figure out your way past it.

I never had to “watch my mouth” as a white woman growing up. And it is a *good thing* that I do have to watch it now. It’s not a punishment. It is an opportunity. It’s a gift. It’s a boundary. And I love boundaries. They changed my life! They saved my life. So yes. I need to be ever more careful with my words and my actions. And yes of course I already should have.

I don’t want to hurt people or harm people. I don’t take that lightly. And having to be accountable for literally everything that comes from me is just life. It’s the natural order of things. I was thoughtless and it was a cruelty. Period.

I am going to think more about what actions to take next to get my self complete. I’m also going to watch my mouth. I’m going to remember that wanting to be a safe person and being a safe person are not the same thing. But I am also going to take whatever actions I can to truly be a safe person.

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20 Apr 2025

Shameless food shameless body

I have been having a little bout of body dysmorphia this week. I looked in the mirror yesterday and I looked very fat to myself. And I had some kind of judgment about it. Not positive. But also sort of disconnected from any real physical sensation. There was not the pain of hating myself. There was not any despair or dread. Just a kind of mean thought like if I saw a really unfashionable woman at the mall. (Yes. I am judging your fashion, people!)

I need to say that I am objectively the same size I have been for months because I am wearing clothes that fit the same. If anything I may be slightly smaller. But my body dysmorphia is not rational. If it were they would call it something else.

So I kept looking at myself until my body lost its already minimal emotional charge. 

Even in that moment that little judgment didn’t go away entirely, but I don’t expect it  ever will. All of my addictions and disorders are just reined in for the time I have my eating under control and I’m taking care of myself, physically, spiritually, and emotionally. 

One of the strongholds of my body dysmorphia when I was still in the food was eating foods I was ashamed of eating. Shame feeds the body dysmorphia. (Which is not to say that they were bad foods. I’m not the food police. I’m a sugar addict.) 

I (we all) had been told what good women with good bodies ate, but I wasn’t eating those things. So I was fat. Plus I hated my body. Plus I was ashamed of the foods I was eating. So when I looked in the mirror and saw something I hated, even if it were objectively untrue, it made sense. It *felt* real. 

Taking the morality out of food loosened the grip of my body hate. And that blunted the majority of the agony of the body dysmorphia. Sugar is a drug to me. My body is a still. It turns sugar and grains to alcohol on its own. I don’t need to eat skinless chicken breast and steamed broccoli to be a good woman with a good body. I do need to quit and stay away from foods that will get me high and kick off cravings. And also stop caring about whether someone else would call me a good woman with a good body…

I have eating rules. Foods to eat and foods to abstain from, weighed and measured portions and timeframes.  But with the *understanding* that I should be eating foods I LOVE. Every day. Every meal I can! I belong to a community that is for abundance not deprivation. It’s how I can do it for over 19 years. It’s how I still love it 19 years later. It’s how I feel good in my body. Because when I don’t feel shame about my food, why should I feel shame about my body?

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09 Mar 2025

Do the next thing and hope it’s the right thing

Throughout my life I spent a lot of time being told “the way it is” about so many things. And really just not believing. Just deciding that I was going to do it my way and see what could happen. 

I definitely did not choose the path of least resistance. Kind of ever. 

But when it came to my body I *never* believed there was any other possibility than the very narrow one I felt confined to. I was fat. I had a certain shape. That was just the way it was.

When I quit sugar and carbohydrates and started to weigh my food 19 years ago, that was the very first time that I felt like I had any control over my body. Before that my own body had felt like a curse and a force of nature. I could lose weight, but I could never really stop eating. Every weight loss felt like a lie. I KNEW that it was unsustainable. Until I stopped putting my drug in my system. 

So ok. That was amazing. I could stop eating sugar and I could be “not fat.” But I still had a very specific shape and it was “weird.” I had to dress to “hide my flaws.” My weight distribution was all up front. I had  big belly. I had wide hips but no butt. My shorter right leg (from when I was born with a club foot and they put me in a full cast from hip to toe) was bigger and stronger and so was/is my right foot. I carried almost all of my weight on it all the time. My right hip hurt constantly. It was just the way it was. And it was still a more comfortable and easy body than when I was eating compulsively.

And then I started walking stairs and as my butt got bigger my center of balance moved way back so I was no longer balancing on my toes. And my belly got smaller as my balance shifted back. But as my legs got stronger and stronger my back started to get tighter and I had to spend a lot of time stretching and massaging my leg muscles to open my back up.

So a couple of weeks ago I started using a lift in my right shoe to accommodate the full one inch difference between my left and right legs. And that ended up making a huge difference in my back. 

In less than 2 full weeks it has reduced my back and hip pain and significantly increased my range of motion backwards. 

None of these things ever felt like anything I had any kind of power over. They felt predestined and set in stone. But I just didn’t know anything. And when people or media or movies told me about “how it was” with bodies like my body, I just believed them in a way I didn’t for almost anything else.

I was ashamed of myself and my body when I was in the food. Ashamed of my fatness, ashamed of my shape, ashamed of any anomalous aspect. And that kept me from even thinking of simple fixes. I would have to be worthy of that. I would have to just be in need of a little help. Not irrevocably broken…

But now that my eating is under control, I love my body. The beautiful, the weird, and the weirdly beautiful. And by loving my body I have a shot at taking an action that leads to me loving it more. Like putting a lift in my shoe. 

I am trying to remember every day and in all things that there is no “way it is.” There is only the way it has been and my choice of what to do next for myself and my community. And I’m trying to remember that I did not know what was possible before I started any of these things. I just did the next thing and hoped it was the right thing. 

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02 Feb 2025

The Other F Word

A particular thing that has come up for me several times this week is the word fat, and how I feel about it and how the rest of society feels about it.

I use it as a neutral descriptor. But I forget that that is after well over a DECADE of dismantling my internalized fat phobia. 

See I *hate* the euphemisms. Every fat person has the ones they can tolerate and the ones they despise. But you sure as hell are not going to get any kind of consensus. And the truth is, we use the euphemisms because we have made the word fat an insult all the time.

Even after I have taken all of the sting of the word away for myself, there continue to be people who will hear me describe my young self as fat and insist that I was not fat! That I was pretty. (Spoiler alert: I was both!!!) For so many people fat is never ok. It has connotations of laziness, incompetence, dirtiness, and general lack of self control.

My husband does not like to use the word. And I have to say he regularly makes me cringe with his euphemisms of choice. 

I watched an American woman on social media talk about plus size stores in Japan and how they all have “fat” in the store name. And that it was clearly an insult. (The truth is, it probably is? But that is Japan.) We’re here in the USA and she was only willing to say “plus sized.” And made it very clear that in her world, the word fat is a rude slight. 

And then in a conversation with a friend on social media about the woman who was denied a Lyft ride, he very specifically chose not to use the word fat. And said so when I did use it. Because of the connotations. Because he was trying to keep it neutral.

The United States has a problem with fatness. We hate it as a culture. And the truth is, the refusal to use the word makes all of the euphemisms just reinforce the fact that we are being “delicate” about a thing we find shameful. When someone tells us we’re not fat we’re pretty, they are making sure we know we’re “one of the good ones.”

Once I made the choice to accept my body as the holy vessel it is, I do not judge bodies. And if I say that I was, or someone else is fat, it only means that their beautiful and unique vessel is bigger and has more fat than other beautiful unique vessels. Not that I have a judgement on their beauty or heart or their humanity.

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