Ever since I was young, I have had a weird relationship with food. This weird relationship is derived from my family, friends, and coaches.
As I child, I watched my mother struggle with her weight and food. During her teen years, she was hospitalized for anorexia. Through her adult years, she still struggled with her weight. She would try the lastest fad diet or starve herself to get thin. She would do this when my father said something truly shitty to her about her weight or appearance. In third grade, she got super skinny again. Then, during my middle school years, my mother’s thyroid gave out. This made her gain weight until she weighed about 300 pounds. She continue to struggle with her weight until she passed away on 7/25/2005 due to a heart attack.
My father, on the other hand, could out eat all of us. He was so freaking skinny. There were several times my father took us out to a buffet. He would tell us to get his money’s worth and encourage us to eat over our limits. Many times, I would end up puking in the parking lot. It almost felt like a badge of honor for him to watch his kid puke in the parking lot or playground.
As high school student, I was on several sports teams. In the middle of my Senior year, I had one of my coaches tell me I was putting on weight and that I needed to work on it. I had practice five times a week. On the weekends I was working at a job where I was required to stand from 6 am to 2 pm. I walked to work, school, and to my friend’s house since my family didn’t have a car that was legal.
I could not figure out for the life of me why I was gaining weight. I decided to try abstaining from food or eating in front of people just to purge it when no one was around. This habit continue into college. The only person in my life that was privy to what was going on was my boyfriend at the time. He figured it out when I was at his house constantly during my first Christmas home from college. I would not eat while I wasn’t his parent’s house. We decorated cookies with his family where I refused to eat. There was a situation where he pretty much to force feed me a pirouline shortly after that.
Being around large groups of people would make me very anxious to eat. I was always wondering if people were watching me nibble on whatever was in front of me. I had extreme anxiety when I went with my boyfriend to his winter formal. We went to Italian Oven which serves primarily pasta dishes. While we were there, he leaned over and whispered in my ear, you will be eating or even if I have to force feed you. Not wanting to cause a scene I ate and he kept a very watchful eye on me. There were a couple more events until he called me out on my shit. He put the lines in the sand it was either I started eating or he was going to tell my step-dad and my roommate to have me sent to a hospital.
It took awhile to adjust from binging and purging and to start eating. I started to gain more weight because I started to go the other extreme and overeat everything. I began to group foods into good and bad foods in my heads. If I ate bad foods, I would regret it until I ate again or went to practice.
Grouping foods into good and bad “helped” me make decision on what to eat and what not to eat. For instance, sometimes I want to have two coney dogs and cheese fries. Instead of telling myself no because it is on my “bad food” list, I am empowering myself to say yes to not let the food have control over my day to day.
I have come to the point in life where I am done. I am fucking DONE having such anxiety over what food am I going to eat. I am done feeling like a disgusting pig when I have to eat in large groups. I am done feeling guilty over what I am eating.
I am choosing to focus on my food like it is fuel instead of what is going to make me the skinniest. I need to eat in moderation of all the foods I can eat. Sometimes, I am going to grab chips and a pop. Sometimes, I am going to eat very clean. If I keep myself on such a tight rigid diet, I am going to relapse and go back to my old ways.
Once a week, I am writing goals for the week. Instead of writing goals that focus on only eating 900-1500 calories, I am setting a goal of getting all my daily fiber. However that looks, I just need to get my daily fiber. It is way too much stress to constantly be worried about am I hitting my calorie goal. Am I eating a “bad” food? The only person that gives a shit and makes me feel bad is me. I am choosing to not feel bad!
My body is an amazing machine that has carried me through several marathon trainings (even while I was eating wheat and feeling like shit) and making it to 30 years old. I am so much more than my appearance. I am smart, caring, and loving. This is what I need to focus on! Dammit!
Have you ever had struggles eating or your weight? Let me know how you feel about this post.