onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

Archive for the tag “sugar addiction”

09 May 2015
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I prefer shopping alone, but my body dysmorphia insists on tagging along.

Today was my cousin’s wedding shower. It was a lot of fun! And I love celebrating love! I am a huge fan of love!


I got a new dress for the shower. Nothing too fancy. A sleeveless linen dress with a tasteful abstract pattern. Very flattering. Very spring-bridal-shower-appropriate.

But when I was shopping for it, I was terrified. Of what, you ask? Of being a size 14 (American).

This is a very specific, very strange fear. 

First, I want to say that there would be nothing wrong with being a size 14. It is a perfectly lovely size. 

But I am not a size 14. I am a size 10. And I can’t seem to grasp it. Even when I am looking at my body in the mirror. Even when I have just tried on a size 10 dress and it fit. And looked great! I even brought two of the same dress into the dressing room, one a 10 and one a 12, thinking that the 10 surely wouldn’t fit. And then I worried that even the 12 would be too small.

I also ordered a dress online for another upcoming wedding, and they gave measurements in the description to determine what size to buy. My measurements coincided with a size Large. And yet I really wanted to order the X-Large. Because I was positive that a Large would be too small on me. And when it came, I still tried it on expecting it to be too small for me. They gave me the measurements! I didn’t believe them!

This is body dysmorphia. This is how sick I can be with my body image disorders. There is nothing wrong with my body. But my head is a disaster area!

I am grateful to have my eating under control. If I didn’t, I can’t imagine the kinds of torture I would be putting myself through. At least right now I don’t have to obsess over what to eat, when to eat it, where to eat and in front of whom. Especially in order to fit into a dress I already fit into. After all, with all the clarity I have because I am not high on sugar or preoccupied with the next thing I will put in my mouth (or refrain from putting in my mouth), I still don’t know what size I am. Even when I am actually wearing that size at the moment.

My body dysmorphia is one of the things I have agreed to make friends with. Not good friends, mind you. But I choose to tolerate it. Because I am pretty sure it will never go away. (Though I am always grateful when it is in a dormant phase.) So I will take too many clothes into the dressing room. And I will be afraid of being sizes I am not. And I will not believe the measurements posted in the description. But I will still look just as good in the dress, once I manage to get it on. So there’s that. 
Posted in beauty, Body image, Inspiration, Life and tagged , , , ,
02 May 2015
1 Comment

Some unsolicited advice to unstick my proverbial craw.

I was reading an Internet forum for people who have their eating disorders under control, and a woman said her husband, who recently lost a lot of weight because of a medical issue, started speaking judgmentally about her weight and how much she was eating. 


I wanted to write about that issue here because it sticks in my proverbial craw.

I write this blog for myself. I write it as a means of getting thoughts out of my weird, dangerous, sick, and sometimes brilliant mind. Once they are out into the open, I can see what is sick and what is brilliant. I am always honored if someone gets something out of my writing. And I love hearing about it in the comments! But I am not writing an advice column. And certainly, if you want to try my ideas for yourself, you are welcome to, but I’m not promoting anything here. 

OK. That’s kind of a lie. Peace. I am actively promoting self-acceptance as a means of attaining inner peace.

But both here and in life, I get a lot of people giving me advice. Unsolicited and unwelcome. Lately, it is usually when I talk about the weight I gained when I quit smoking, but it has been going on for many years.  And yes, it is hard for me to be with the extra weight. But this is not a weight loss blog. It is a blog where I share what it is like to be a woman who lives with eating disorders.This is a whole blog where I talk about how I was miserable (and yes, fat) because I couldn’t stop eating. And now MY EATING IS UNDER CONTROL! (Yes. I am yelling that!) 

And even more frustrating, I find that this unsolicited advice often comes from people who are riding the wave of being high on whatever diet/exercise/quick-fix food scheme they have discovered within the past year. And I will be blunt (and judgmental), sometimes I look at what they are suggesting to me and all I can see is them acting out an eating disorder because their eating is not under control. And I think, Oh, sweetie, been there, done that, when I was an in-so-deep-I-couldn’t-see-the-surface addict. So thanks, but no thanks. But I only think it, and I don’t say anything. Because they are not looking for advice. And I don’t do unsolicited advice.

I have been doing what I do for over 9 years. 9 years and 4 months. 3,407 days! I am past the “pink cloud.” I am no longer “high” on losing weight and eating well. I have stuck to this through life tragedies and screwball comedies. I do it when it’s boring. I do it when I don’t want to. I do it every day always. No matter what.

Yes. It makes me mad when people tell me how to do it “better.” I know it shouldn’t. I know they are just excited about something. Or they are trying to help. Or even if they are not, even if they just want to feel superior, because they have managed to wrangle their body into a socially acceptable shape and size, I should be grateful that I have my own solution. And that I know it without a doubt. I mean, how many things work for over 9 years? And since it has worked for over 9 years, I am confident that it will continue to work.

I will close with this. A lot of people want to know “how I did it” (referring to losing 150 lbs), but when I tell them that I have not eaten any grains, starches or refined sugars for over 9 years, they tune out. They want an easier way. But I have tried that “easier way,” and it  looks like exercising to the point of exhaustion and injury. It looks like starving myself for long periods so I can binge on sugar. It looks like being miserable in my body and life because I can’t stop eating. It looks like being obsessed with food every second of every day. 

We have a saying in the community where I keep my eating under control. “Keep your eyes on your own plate.” Today I’m giving you unsolicited advice. And that’s it.
Posted in Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth, Relationships and tagged , , , ,
19 Apr 2015

Reunited and it feels so good…

Yesterday was my 20th High School reunion. I didn’t expect to go. 


I went to a pretty prestigious high school. 20 years out, most people have pretty prestigious jobs. Doctors, lawyers, scientific researchers. Me? I’m just a college dropout with no job.

Of course, I don’t think that’s true. I mean it is true. But I am not even a little ashamed of it. I love my life. I have always done what I wanted to do. I have never lived by anyone else’s rules. And I do not judge my success in life by education, money, or recognition. 

I am happy. Truly, deeply fulfilled and satisfied. I like myself. 

So I guess that’s why I went. 

I was cripplingly self-conscious in high school. I had so much fear and self-loathing that my teen years were torture. I was fat. I couldn’t control my eating. I was overwhelmed with life to the point of paralysis. I was incapable of dealing with my giant emotions.

Perhaps that is true of most people. Hormones and school. Being essentially imprisoned with people because they happen to be the same age as you. 

But to my miserable teen self, nearly everyone else seemed to have everything totally under control.

To be blunt, the reunion was a lot like High School itself. I ate at a table in a corner with the same person I ate with at a table in a corner 20 years ago. I had nice conversations with a handful of friends from 20 years ago. I was ignored by the same people who ignored me 20 years ago. People who were nice then, even if we weren’t exactly friends, were nice yesterday. People who were obnoxious then, were obnoxious yesterday.

I brought my own food. (And thank God. There was a buffet dinner, but almost nothing I could eat.) Only one person who didn’t know about my food boundaries noticed that I was not eating what everyone else was eating. There was a little eyebrow raising, but nothing major. 

My eating habits were, for the most part, not a topic of conversation. But they were the reason I could be there. I was completely confident. Not just in my body, but also as myself. I didn’t feel nervous or awkward. I wasn’t judging myself. I didn’t care if I was being judged. I had a great time catching up with people I hadn’t seen in so long.

Having my eating disorders under control is, without a doubt, the foundation of my peaceful life. It gives me a freedom that I never had as a teenager. 

Especially when I have had my body size on my mind for a while now, it was such a blessing to have such a clear illustration of the gifts of having my eating disorders under control. I wasn’t thinking about my body yesterday. I was just enjoying the company and the nostalgia. I wasn’t thinking about food. I wasn’t sitting at home on my couch so ashamed of myself that I didn’t want to show my face. I was just being myself. And liking it.
Posted in Body image, Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth, Relationships and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment
12 Apr 2015

Walking my mean dogs

I went for a walk yesterday. It was nice. I haven’t gotten to walk much in the past year.


I don’t miss living in New York City, but I miss various lifestyle options I had there. New York is a city of walkers. If it’s closer than a mile, you may as well walk there. If it’s a beautiful day, you may as well walk there. If you have the time, you may as well walk there.

Here, in the suburbs of Chicago, I haven’t had as much of a chance to walk. 

This winter was so long. It’s already mid April and we have only had a handful of nice days. 

And people don’t expect me to want to walk. Regularly, my boyfriend or neighbors will tell me to call if I want a ride, and then be surprised when I go wherever, or return from wherever, never having called them. People around me are always taken aback by my choosing to walkover getting a ride.

For me, walking is a great way to keep my eating disorders at bay. Especially my body dysmorphia. 

My body dysmorphia is dormant right now. I am not in the throes of hating my body. But where I am is a place of resignation. I don’t look at my body and feel content. I still don’t love my size. I wish I would lose this 30 lbs I gained when I quit smoking. But I’m ok. I can be with it.

But I can feel that there is a body image disorder attack in me somewhere. So I am looking forward to being able to walk every day.

When I walk, I do a few things for myself. It’s a kind of meditation for me, so I get my head straight(er). I work off a lot of my stress hormones, so I feel peaceful. It makes me feel like I’m doing something for the health and strength of my body. And it’s exercise, so it lets the bulimic part of me calm the hell down.

I mostly manifested my bulimia through exercise. Though I did have a short (thank God) stint of old fashioned making myself throw up.

I keep a watch on myself when it comes to exercise. When I start asking myself how many calories I figure I just burned, that’s a glaring red flag. Seriously. A have-a-seat-and-drink-a-diet-soda-because-that’s-enough-for-today red flag.

When I was fat, people treated me as if I didn’t care what I looked like. They seemed to assume that if I were really ashamed (and a lot of people thought I should be ashamed), I would do something about my weight. But I was always that ashamed. I cared so much it was killing me inside. 

And now that I live in a healthy weighted body, people seem to think I shouldn’t care so much about what I look like. But I do. Because no matter how I have learned to take care of myself, and lovingly put boundaries around my eating, I am still that same person.

It’s funny, because people encourage others to work out. Excessive working out is often praised. And I truly believe that people who work out because they love their body and want to nurture it are praise-worthy. Same for people who do it for love of sport. Or any kind of love. 

I exercised because of hate. I hated my body. I hated the way it looked. I hated how I couldn’t stop eating and I wanted to hide that fact from the rest of the world. I exercised to the point of exhaustion and injury. I was punishing my body for not looking like society told me it should look like. What society told me it could look like if I were disciplined enough. What it would look like if I were a “Good Girl.”

I had to give up those notions, but I am still sick around those things. I will always be sick. I have to actively keep from killing myself with exercise. Just like I have to actively keep from killing myself with sugar and compulsive eating. And I have to remember to accept myself the way I am right now in the moment. So I don’t abuse my body.

It’s OK. As problems go, it’s not the worst. I have a solution for my eating disorders. And along with that, a way of life that keeps me happy, sane and well adjusted. And now that the weather is breaking, I will get to walk, and keep my body image issues on a short leash. Like the mean dogs that they are.
Posted in Body image, Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth and tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment
28 Mar 2015
4 Comments

Free to be funny another day

I was reading a blog the other day. It was a parenting blog. I am not a parent. It was about DIY cleaning products. Which I will almost certainly never make or use. I was reading it because it caught my attention and I clicked on it.

It was funny. It was one of those sarcastic-mom blogs. The kind of thing Erma Bombeck was writing before blogs. Even before the internet being readily available was a thing. I liked what I read. It was fun.

And it got me thinking about the fact that this blog is not particularly funny.

I am funny. In my life, I make people laugh. A lot. And I will be blunt. Eating disorders, while serious, and worthy of an authentic conversation, can still be pretty hilarious.

Anything that is not killing you at any particular moment can be funny. Even something that is killing you can be funny.

So I thought about how to make this a funnier blog.

I thought about the things that make my friends with eating disorders laugh. Like how my boyfriend will eat one snack cake in a package of two. He will just leave the other sitting there. He’s not even controlling himself and saving it like a good, obsessive eater would. Really? You can’t just mindlessly eat the other one because it’s there? What, you’re too good for that? Or when a friend talks about how her grandmother used to tell her that if something had fruit in it, it wouldn’t make you fat. So she would eat big, rich desserts that had some element of fruit and didn’t expect them to make her gain weight. How could I have gained weight? All I ate for dessert was fruit!

But then I wondered if it would land for people who didn’t have eating disorders. Or if it would just be salt in the wound for people who did, and who were not having an easy time of it.

And then I remembered one of the things I love about having my eating disorders under control. I have time and space. For whatever. I don’t have to do everything now. There’s another meal coming. There’s another day coming. There’s another week coming with another blog post to write. If I want to be funny, I can think about being funny. I can try it out some time. No rush. And it will be OK if it doesn’t turn out for the best. I don’t write for an audience. I write for myself and sincerely hope that people get something out of it. But if they don’t, that’s not actually my responsibility.

A while ago I thought about writing some fiction. And I am writing some fiction in my spare time now. I thought about starting an eating disorder blog long before I actually made Onceafatgirl. I thought about quitting smoking before I quit smoking. I didn’t jump into any of those decisions. And in the end, I ended up doing them. In my own time. At my own pace.

It’s so freeing to remember that I really am free.

Posted in Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth and tagged , , , ,
21 Mar 2015
1 Comment

The difference between bliss and calamity

I am on my way back home after a really fantastic, week-long vacation. We rented a boat and cruised around on the ocean for two days.  We saw sea turtles and manta rays and jellyfish. I went in the ocean for the first time. I got lots of sun. (I’m a little crispy actually.)


We ate really well this whole trip. One night we borrowed a grill from the resort and had filet mingon stuffed with crab. But my vacation was not about eating. It was not about restaurants. It was not about “cheat days” or “free-for-alls”. A vacation is not an excuse for me to eat whatever I want.

I gave up excuses when I put boundaries around my food. I took on a belief system that says no excuse is acceptable. I do what I do no matter what.

And that allows me a certain kind of peace. I wore my bikini when I was by the pool or on the boat. I’m not skinny. But I am comfortable enough in my skin to wear my bikini in public. 

But If I broke my food boundaries, even if I weighed exactly the same, and looked exactly the same, I would never have been able to wear my bikini. Having boundaries around my food allows me to be happy with myself. It allows me to be less judgmental of myself. It allows me a certain freedom from my own obsessive thinking. About my body and about food.

While I was prepping meals for the flight home today, I was mixing sesame seeds into my butter. But the butter wouldn’t soften in the air conditioning. So I took it outside to our patio and sat in a deck chair and watched the ocean while I was mixing it. My boyfriend came out and looked startled. He asked “Are you eating?” 

I said “No, I’m just making tomorrow’s dinner.”

He said, “Thank God! All I could think was ‘Oh no!'”

I told him, “Yep. If you ever see me eating and it’s not time to eat, think ‘Oh no!'”

My food boundaries are the difference between blissful serenity and disastrous calamity.

This trip was bliss. I can’t wait to do it again. 


Posted in beauty, Body image, Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth and tagged , , , ,
15 Mar 2015

Can’t talk now. On vacation. (YAY!)

I am in the airport now waiting for a flight to Florida! I love Florida!

It’s these times, when I am out of my routine, that it becomes so obvious that I have food boundaries.

We are staying at a hotel with a kitchen, like we do when we travel, so I will probably be getting myself a temporary routine. I like routine, it makes me feel safe.

But today, my routine is off. Airports mean bringing all of my food for the day in my carry-on. At 6 AM, two hours before I usually eat in the morning, I ate a breakfast I would never eat at home. Because I had to get it through TSA. I never notice my food boundaries are “inconvenient” in my day to day. But when I am flying it’s always a day of cooking in advance.

And then yesterday I put off eating dinner to pack my clothes, and I got worried like I would forget to eat.


Not having things be predictable gives me fear. Especially around my eating noundaries.

The truth is, it has happened before. I can remember one time in the past 9 years. Probably seven years ago by now. When I remembered that I forgot to eat dinner, I panicked. I made a phone call. I asked what I should do. I followed directions. It all turned out fine in the end. My eating disorders stayed under control. And it was an honest mistake. 

I make hones mistakes. The honesty part is important. I can’t keep my food under control with lies.

When I was eating compulsively, I told a lot of lies about what I was eating. Especially when I was on a diet. (Which was not often. I was not a dieter.) In my experience, a little lie leads to big lies. Once I let dishonesty in, dishonesty was inescapable.

I don’t plan on missing a meal. I love my meals. And I don’t plan on sabotaging myself. And I don’t plan on making honest mistakes, but that’s what makes them honest mistakes. They’re not planned. 

I’m willing to spend a day cooking so I can make it through the airport. I have been willing to do what needs to be done, even when it’s inconvenient. 
Posted in Inspiration, Life and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
07 Mar 2015
4 Comments

Not to succeed, win, have or accomplish

I was an impatient child. Especially when it came to learning. 


See, I’m smart. Really smart. And most things came easily to me. I didn’t have to work hard to learn. And things that I didn’t learn immediately…well, I hated them. I didn’t want to do them. I didn’t want to fail. It made me feel bad. And I always felt like whatever energy I put in to something that ended in failure was a waste of my time. It was all about what I had to show for it in the end.

Soon I am going to get back into the workforce, and I would like to get a job teaching crochet, and helping people fix their crochet projects. At least one place I am looking at requires that you know how to both knit and crochet. So recently I started trying to knit again.

I am a bad knitter.

That is an imprecise way of putting it. There are things that I am great at. Like the dexterity parts. I am excellent at making the different stitches. I can make beautiful patterns with them. I can make cables and laces. When it comes to the actual knitting, I am really talented.

But there is another part of knitting that I am really really bad at. I cannot fix mistakes. This is inconvenient for a girl with mild perfectionist tendencies. If I make a mistake anywhere in a project, I don’t know how to get myself back to the point before I made the mistake without unraveling the whole thing. It’s all or nothing. I either have to live with the imperfections, or start again from the beginning. And I can’t stand making mistakes. So, so far, it’s all nothing.

But there is something different about me since I got my eating under control. I am patient. I am now one of those people who believes it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey. (Seriously, I never thought I would be one of those people. I promise I don’t have art with motivational sayings. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)

So for the past few weeks, I have been knitting. And I have nothing to show for it. And I am a-okay with that. I must have started anew at least ten times. And yet none of the times I unraveled the whole thing and wound it back around the ball of yarn did I feel it was a waste of my time. I wasn’t doing it because I need a scarf or a blanket or a sweater. I have plenty of beautiful clothes. And my house is cozy warm. I was doing it to practice. To get better. To learn. I was knitting to knit. It’s that simple.

The events and circumstances of my life are so much less “significant” since I got my eating disorders under control. And it’s such a relief. I love being free from having to be great at everything. I love having the ability to be incapable without shame. I love being exactly who I am all the time. I can even be ok with being a bit of a perfectionist.

I’m going to put the knitting away for a while. I just finished a really amazing crochet project and I’m ready to do more of that. But it’s nice to do something for the sake of doing it. Not to succeed, win, have, or accomplish.
Posted in Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth and tagged , , , , , ,
28 Feb 2015
3 Comments

Praying to a Magic 8 Ball or sitting in a chair

I was talking to some friends recently and one of them gave a beautiful analogy about faith.

There is a chair. Do you have faith in the chair? Words about having faith in the chair are meaningless. You can say you have faith in the chair, but you show your faith in the chair by sitting in it. You may truly believe the chair will hold you, but unless you sit in it, your faith is meaningless.

I was raised Catholic. I believed in God as a little kid. When I got older, I stopped. Then I believed. Then I stopped. Then I believed. Around and around.

The reason I was able to go around and around was that I never “sat in the chair.” Faith was something decorative like a painting, or maybe more of a kitschy novelty like a Magic 8 Ball, but never something practical, like a chair. I would live as if God had no part in my day to day life. I would do whatever I could to make things go the way I wanted them to. And then when things were going badly, or I wanted something I wasn’t going to get, I “prayed” for a miracle. It was always about what I wanted. And in the most short-sighted, specific way imaginable. Not that I wanted peace, or love, or security, but that I wanted that apartment that I didn’t get, or that boyfriend who didn’t like me back, or those shoes they didn’t have in my size. And I wanted the old, white-haired, white dude in heaven to make that happen.

As a Catholic child I absolutely conceptualized God as the love-child of Charlton Heston and Merlin sitting on a big Throne in the clouds. But now, I do not have an anthropomorphized vision of God. Now my belief can be considered a belief in the general benevolence of life. I believe that when I meet the circumstances in my life with integrity and honor, I always end up better, and with better circumstances than I had. And I have come to trust that the pains and the dips and the falls are not setbacks. They are simply me not getting what I want. And I have come to trust that if I am not getting what I want, it is because it is better not to.

Lately, there has been a lot of me not getting what I want. Quite a bit of sadness and frustration. Lots of disappointments. And I do get disappointed when I want things and my life doesn’t work out that way. I could exhaust myself trying to get what I think I want. But instead this is where I exercise my faith. This is where I sit in the chair.

When I was eating sugar, I used food to numb difficult emotions. When I stopped eating compulsively, I learned how to bear uncomfortable feelings. I had to. There was no other option. And it turns out to be an incredibly useful skill. It has made me calmer, happier and stronger. And it let me have faith, because I suddenly had a means of showing it. I could be still and let things be the way they were. I could sit in the chair.

Posted in Inspiration, Life, Personal Growth and tagged , , , ,
07 Feb 2015

Jeez, snow, it’s like you don’t even care…

I hate winter. And I particularly hate snow. This week we got 22 1/2 inches of snow. That’s just shy of two feet, in case you’re not up on your measurement equivalents.

The worst part of it for me, besides the general blech-ness of snow, is that it is not convenient to walk to the grocery store when there is so much. Half the sidewalks aren’t clear. And sometimes, even if the sidewalk is clear, the street plows have piled the snow right up on the side of the road blocking up the outlet. In other words you can walk on the sidewalk, but you can’t cross the street. OK, you can. But you have to climb the mountain of snow, and then when you have the green light, you have to jump into the street, run across, and quickly climb the snow mound on the other side, and jump down to the sidewalk. If it’s clear.

Thankfully, I keep my house stocked up with non-perishable food.

I was actually thinking the other day, I’m running out of food! But that was not true. If something had happened and I couldn’t get to the grocery store, I would still have had enough food for several days. If I go out and buy a few more cans of fruit, I would have enough food in my house for about a month. Right now.

It would not be my favorite foods, but I could eat within my boundaries. And that, after all, is what counts for me.

There is something deeply satisfying about knowing that I take that good care of myself. It gives a sense of safety to the general uncertainty of life.

And also, my boyfriend graciously, and generously drives me to the store whenever I ask. I am not deprived of having the best foods in all weather!

Still, I’d rather it be spring now, so I can walk to the grocery store whenever I darn well please. At least without having to worry about slipping on ice, or falling from a mound of packed snow 3 feet above the street.

Any time you’re ready, spring!

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