Showing posts with label Mindful eating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mindful eating. Show all posts

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Speak Up, or You Will Be the Biggest Loser. And That’s Not a Good Thing.


Rapid weight loss is incompatible with mental and physical health. Period.


I beg to differ with Daily Beast columnist Tricia Romano, who believes Rachel Frederickson’s extreme weight loss on the Biggest Loser is none of our business. And I disagree that her weight is just a tad lower than a healthy BMI. And Rachel’s BL trainer Bob Harper is simply wrong when he assumes that “…when contestants leave home ... they are in charge of themselves.” 

Admittedly, I’ve never watched more than a few minutes of TBL—I found it intolerable. Yet the show is unfortunately quite popular. Many of my plus size patients report being inspired, identifying with the desperate contestants, tolerant of the verbal abuse and crazy diet and activity demands. They're smitten by the fairy tale that rapid weight loss through extreme measures works. And that extreme weight loss equals extreme happiness. Let me inform you otherwise; I yearn to protect you from the damage, both visible and hidden, from this diet mentality.


But first, about Rachel—the latest victim 



My summary of The Biggest Loser.
It was a media frenzy as Biggest Loser Rachel Frederickson returned to the show, 45 lbs below her “healthy” weight of 150 pounds when departing TBL. She weighed in at 105 pounds, a 155 pound total weight loss. And the $250,000 reward money was likely the least of the motivators. If you’ve ever known anyone who’s lived with an eating disorder, you know the situation well. It may start with a seemingly reasonable weight loss goal, typically with a common diet. And then once that goal is met, their goal gets reset. “Just five more pounds”, they think. “Then I’ll be happy/ satisfied/thin enough.” Yet for some, no amount of weight is ever quite enough, and the struggle continues. It moves from perhaps a sincere interest in losing some weight—perhaps at the recommendation of their doctor, even—to something completely different. 

And while it is frequently said that eating disorders are about control, the experience of the eating disorder sufferer hardly feels like being in control. Rumination about food and weight and eating consumes thoughts, and normal life comes to a halt. Social activities are put on hold to accommodate diet rules, and isolation becomes the norm. They may be visibly underweight, or appear to be of average or even over weight. Starvation can occur at any size. Really.

As for the Daily Beast writer’s comment “at 5 foot 5 inches and 105 pounds, Frederickson’s is slightly below the recommended BMI. But she’s also small-boned and lithe”, allow me to respond. For her height, midpoint of a healthy range may be 125 pounds by the charts, but at less than 90% of that weight (under 112 pounds), most women lose their periods. As for athletes (she was apparently a world class swimmer prior to her weight gain) a higher weight range is generally expected as healthy, with increased muscle mass. 

Of course there are small boned, women who were always petite, for whom a lower weight certainly may be okay. Weight, as I mentioned, is not the best measure of health. But a significant weight drop below one’s highest weight, referred to by researchers as weight suppression, may have undesirable effects, including precipitating eating disorders. 

Rachel reports feeling fine, but the evidence tells us otherwise. Exercising 3-4 hours per day strikes me as a big red flag for preoccupation with her weight. It’s not her fault, though. The Biggest Loser promotes rapid weight loss and unrealistic goals. We know from a classic starvation study by Dr. Ancel Keys in 1944 that starvation resulting in even a 25% weight loss—much less than her almost 60% drop in body weight—impacts thoughts, moods, sexual desire, and eating behaviors. All that, in addition to the slowed heart rate (no, it is not an athlete’s low pulse), low body temperature, and abnormal menses. 

Three, maybe four exercise classes a day, is her reported activity, while consuming under 1600 calories from a 'healthy' diet. Excuse me? 'Healthy diet' is a term that simply doesn’t apply to this intake relative to activity. I don’t care how healthy the individual foods are, whether they are organic, whole grain, whatever—there’s nothing healthy here. This is a severely restrictive intake for this level of activity.

It’s none of my business, Tricia? On the contrary. I can’t simply sit and watch and not shout out how outrageous and unhealthy this is. I am not, however, faulting Rachel. The Biggest Loser took a vulnerable contestant—perhaps no different than other contestants—a woman who reports emotional overeating resulting in a 100 pound weight gain following a breakup. They turn out an excessive exerciser, who’s restricting her calories and likely quite unhealthy by many measures. 

Call it the flip side of the same coin—first likely struggling with binge eating now struggling to trust her body and her signals and eat to meet her needs. Are we to view this as success? Not in the least. Were her eating behaviors addressed? Was she given strategies for coping versus using food or food restriction or compulsive exercise? Was she guided to learn to trust her hunger and her fullness again, or simply instructed to count calories? 

A former contestant, Ms. Hibbard acknowledges the unhealthy behavior she and others practiced on the ranch, particularly preceding weigh-ins (similar to what Weight Watchers report). Contestants, she claims, “dehydrated themselves through excessive workouts in warm layers of clothing, drank only coffee because it acts as a diuretic and ate little to nothing.” She adds: “I feel I did a vulnerable disservice by not saying on television the night of my finale. ‘I’m sad, and I’m sick from being on this show’”. (http://www.nytimes.com/2014/02/09/fashion/Biggest-Loser-Rachel-Frederickson.html?_r=0)


Hibbard might have been late to speak up. But we don’t have to be silent. The impact of a show like The Biggest Loser is dangerous—to its contestants, and to its viewers. It promises health, while causing harm; and it delays and potentially complicates contestants’ preexisting eating disorders. It shames participants through their weight loss struggle, and turns viewers to criticizing the Loser, like Rachel, for whom continued weight loss may feel out of her hands. 



Don’t accept the promise of rapid weight loss, or believe that extremes of eating or exercising will work. Because they never do.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Coming Clean: My Biases and What They Mean for You

I’m no different than the rest of you. I too, have my biases—my prejudices, my leanings, my preconceived ideas about what makes sense. They influence my actions, my reading of scientific studies, and they impact my professional recommendations.

I make no apologies; my biases effect what I tell you as patients and as blog readers. Like conference speakers obliged to disclose who profits from their research or their words, I’m giving my full disclosure. Here are some insights about why I lean as I do:

1) I’m biased against the weight loss literature's conclusions. In spite of the dismal research that only a small percentage of overweight dieters maintain their weight loss, I’m biased against these results. Weight loss, and maintenance is notan unreasonable goal—for somepeople, that is. Yes, I realize that the weight suppression data may suggest otherwise, as mentioned in my previous post.

Yet I’m skeptical about how study participants lost the reported weight and that impact on weight regain. And I’m cautious about who should have been losing in the first place. If someone had been binge eating and normalized their eating, why wouldn’t they lose weight and keep it off—as long as they remained free of binge eating? If you were disconnected from your physical cues, from your hunger and your fullness, but then turned that around, why couldn’t you maintain the lost weight? That is, if your higher weight was not your healthy normal that you had always been. Which gets me to the next point.

Many patients have appropriately lost and maintained significant weight loss. They were not on diet plans—not calorie counting, no categorical exclusions such as “no white flour” or “no carbs”. Rather, they have slowly modified their actions, and their thoughts. And ultimately, their weight adjusted. Read about my patients such as Erin and Maggie.

I fit into the category above. I have lost about 35 pounds since graduating from college—35 pounds that were not a part of my usual size. My weight had always been in the normal range—I had never experienced weight issues until college, when my yo-yoing began. Dieting, binging, denial of my needs failed to bring my weight back to normal. But changing all that did. I do not work to maintain my weight at this point, but I continually embrace honoring what I feel like eating, and responding to when I need to eat.

2) I believe that you know best about yourself—until your disordered thoughts, your restrictive rules, your lack of trust in yourself take over. Yet I believe that deep down you really know just how much you need to eat—just like when you were a young child before all this craziness began. It’s just so damn scary!

3) I’m biased against light products and diet packaged meals. No, they are not simply better than not eating (shout out to Thursday's patient—thanks for inspiring this!) Why? Because they mislead you! Tricky Weight Watcher’s meals and Lean Cuisines? Sneaky Arnold rounds? Indeed. 

First, they may look like they’re supposed to be enough. The light bread (that has half the calories than the regular bread) looks like a full sandwich. But then when you’re hungry from eating what amounts to only half a sandwich, whom do you blame? You only fault yourself, believing that it should’ve been enough, that you’re the one with the problem. Not so, my friends!

As for the frozen meals, I must say that in all my (50) years I’ve never eaten a diet frozen dinner, so my bias does not come from my experience having them. They just look like not enough to me—or for anyone. Admittedly, you can add a glass of milk, and a fruit or a dessert and it may be just fine. But somehow I don’t suspect that’s what you intend to do.

4) I’m biased against omitting what we enjoy eating. I believe that sweets and all things that taste good have a place in our diet. Maybe it’s because I personally eat things I like, including baked goods and good chocolate quite frequently. Excessively? Mindlessly? Not usually. Not when I’m driving or watching TV. Ok, sometimes the popcorn comes down to the family room (notice how passive that statement was?) while I’m watching TV—there, I’ve said it. Maybe it’s because I see the consequence of banning them, of making them forbidden, that I fight for making them available.

5) Yes, I’m biased against eating disorders.  Eating disorders lie. Which is not to say you are a liar. Have you lost me yet? They distort what you perceive you’ve eaten—yes, you overestimate your calories if you are under eating, and you may minimize or exaggerate them if you overate—it can go either way. 

Eating disorders mislead you into thinking that a yogurt is a meal, or that a black coffee, or even a latte is an appropriate means to respond to your hunger. They don’t volunteer information—I have to ask, and beg and probe to get a full and honest response.

6) It’s not your fault—again, that’s my bias. I don’t believe you want to be struggling with binge eating, or purging, compulsive exercise or laxative abuse or restrictive eating. And I’m convinced that I, that we can’t simply wait around until you’re simply ready.

7) I’m suspect when I only hear that everything is always great. And I’m cynical when I hear that everything is always terrible. Your bias, I suspect, is a lack of honesty with yourself.

8) I’m partial to the value of the relationship. I’ve not reviewed the literature on this, but my bias is that you’re more likely to work to change—at least initially—for your soon-to-be-born child or for your young children. And if you’re fortunate enough to have a positive relationship with a healthcare provider, you’ll work for them too.

9) Oh, and regardless of what they tell you, I believe it’s never too late to change. And this bias is based on the many clients I’ve seen, at all ages, at all stages of their disordered relationship with food. Yes, you too can recover from an eating disorder. And you can change your relationship with food. Even now.

So call me biased.



Friday, May 31, 2013

Name-calling Has Its Place: BED is Now Named as a Distinct Eating Disorder. So what’s in it for you?


What’s in a name?


Perhaps it sounds like an existential question, but if it doesn’t have a name, does it even exist? Labeling Binge Eating Disorder (BED) what it is—a painful struggle living with frequent overeating large amounts of food—makes real the impact on mood, thoughts, energy level, physical wellbeing and hopelessness, to name a few. 
Living with Binge Eating Disorder when it was not yet recognized as a diagnosis, you might not have felt sick enough or eligible to be treated, because it just wasn’t taken seriously enough by those around you. 

Being added as a condition all its own validates this not-uncommon eating disorder whose sufferers live with their secret relationship with food, silently and ashamed.

Like adulterers you may sneak around family members and friends consuming large quantities of food—rarely lean protein or vegetables, I’ll add—but typically those foods and nutrients deemed forbidden. Yes, adulterers, as you carry on a relationship you may fail to acknowledge, cheating only yourself.

You eat quickly, masking the empty packages for fear of the response. “Who finished the cookies?” you dread hearing. You may eat salads or nothing at all in the workplace or with others, then stop at the convenience store or the fast food drive in and eat more than a day’s worth of calories, before even getting home. And then perhaps eat dinner as if nothing had ever happened. There may be a short-lived thrill preceding the binge, but a lingering guilt-filled regret to follow.


I should be mindfully eating? 


Binge eaters rarely taste their food, nor do they enjoy it mindfully—from the accounts of my patients over the past 26 years. They eat cakes and cookies and ice cream, but they don’t consume them with permission—their own permission, that is. They may be quite unaware of what and how much they have eaten. And although there are exceptions, they rarely truly enjoy what they are binging on—although the experience may be quite pleasurable—in the short-term. Friday’s new patient diagnosed with BED would never come in for a follow up—that much was certain—if I dared to suggest he’d have to give up his nightly, longed for ritual of binge eating. Yes, making change takes time—and hard work.


Why oh why do I do this?


You may find yourself eating impulsively, wondering why, even though you know better, you can’t follow through with your intended control over food. 

Let’s start with one basic fact. You are not stupid. It is not for lack of knowledge that you maintain your binge eating pattern, but likely because it meets some needs.  It may temporarily numb you, a drug of choice for some, or may help manage your anxiety. Or it may be triggered by impulsivity, even greater in those who get too hungry and those who struggle with impulse control—like those with ADHD. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not endorsing binge eating to meet your needs. Rather, hopefully providing some insight so you can begin to move from the place you are stuck.

Binge eating typically, although not always, follows deprivation and food restriction. Ever notice that your binging is worse after dieting or fearing you will be without food? 

Thoughts like “I’ve already blown it so I may as well keep going”, what I call the what the heck effect, adds flames to the fire, contributing to continued overeating. Or you may preplan a binge—a very much-controlled binge, counter to the uncontrolled binges often described.


“What’s your point?”


I just sent a family member a link to a popular press article about a parallel situation- trichotillomania (compulsive hair pulling) is also now added to the new DSM-5, the mental health manual of diagnoses. In response to the link, the trich sufferer responded, “So what’s your point?” So let me clarify for all. The point is, if you are described in these posts, then you deserve to have your condition acknowledged and treated. And that includes getting support from a mental health professional (one who’s trained in CBT, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy). And for BED sufferers, adding a Registered Dietitian who specializes in eating disorders is essential as well.
It takes time to shift your eating pattern and your thoughts, and to find alternative ways to manage things that cause distress, but recovery is possible. 

How do you change and move from being a binge eater? Five areas tend to need to be addressed. You’ll need to:


  1. Eat enough calories throughout the day. Guidance from an RD can be quite helpful here.
  2. Watch your eating pattern to avoid long periods without eating. Excessive hunger leads to excessive intake. Think about a pendulum; swinging to one extreme results in an equal swing in the opposite direction. We are looking to be swinging in a much more narrow range!
  3. Move toward mindful eating. Start by separating eating from distractions, such as TV, reading, computer, driving, phone use. Keep food in the kitchen or dining room only. And try to use your senses when eating. Yes, you deserve to experience and taste what you eat.
  4. Once you are preventing excessive hunger and mindfully eating, it’s time to reintroduce foods you view as ‘forbidden’. Remember that if you are listening to your hunger and eating when you need the fuel, you are no worse off for choosing something you really enjoy eating—be it ice cream or chocolate chip cookies. But keep in mind that while you’re working on liberalizing your ‘forbidden’ foods, work on…
  5. Distinguishing physical hunger from emotional eating triggers, such as stress, reward, depression, anxiety, the need for self-punishment.


Now that it is a recognized condition, it’s my hope that MDs will no longer direct their overweight patients for lap band or gastric bypass surgery, never inquiring about or addressing the underlying problem behaviors. Perhaps the medical community will also begin to distinguish those who are overweight yet healthy—yes, they do co-exist—from those that are struggling with their thoughts and behaviors.

What I like most about this new diagnosis it that it puts the focus on your behavior, not your body weight. Now let’s hope that the medical community begins to ask the questions to open discussion about eating behaviors so that you and others can get the support and direction you need to recover.

Check out these older posts on binge eating and related themes:

Many more posts on the subject can be found by clicking on the relevant labels on the right of the blog.
I'd love to hear from you! Thanks for reading.


Monday, March 18, 2013

Dessert Happens



Saturday night. New York City. True story.


I’m out to dinner with my husband while visiting New York City, at a restaurant highly praised by a foodie—friend I’ll call Lloyd. And Lloyd says “you must try the desserts—they’re amazing”, or something to that effect. It’s a 45-minute wait for a seat at the bar (a beautiful, relaxed setting, I’ll add). We share a couple of wine flights—those 3 oz samples, and order our meal.

That part was easy. The arctic char appetizer was divine, surpassed by the two entrees we decided in advance to share. (Basically, I have a hard time deciding and don’t want to limit my options, so I petition my husband that we should share and he generally obliges as he did Saturday. Yes, marrying him was a good decision.) 

Skillfully prepared fish and a butternut squash lasagna—the labels do no justice to their taste. Totally wow, and I don’t use superlatives for food too readily. The bread was similarly fabulous—a whole-wheat sourdough seemingly right from the oven served with sweet butter. Of course I enjoyed a couple of slices as they  were put before me.

I was quite satisfied from this leisurely paced meal. A warm beverage would’ve capped it just fine. But Lloyd’s words hovered. I knew I needed to try dessert. What to do? We started with coffee, a spiced French Press, while the menus sat before us. Okay. Let me just inquire, I thought. So I engaged the bartender/waitperson. “Can you tell me about the lemon curd dessert with chocolate and hazelnut crumble (which sounds so weird I can’t even image getting it but I just need to know!)? And she did. “What would yousuggest?” I prodded further. “This or the apple pie with ice cream?” (which sounded so conventional, I thought). She described them both in glowing terms, then added that the apple pie is the restaurant’s most popular. “Fine, then. We’ll take it. It’s decided.” (My husband, by the way, was somewhat indifferent to having dessert that night.)

Surely I could’ve passed on dessert. But guess what followed? Fresh baked, flaky apple pie with homemade vanilla bean ice cream, of course.


 AND the lemon curd dessert—gratis, I’ll add! This lovely waitperson felt we really needed to try both—perhaps she felt my decision-making pain when I announced my dessert selection.
Now what would you do?
  1.    Thank her profusely, then return the second dessert?
  2.    Take a couple of bites, then leave the rest because you had enough?
  3.    Eat both desserts—sharing them of course—even though it is completely unnecessary?

So after we completed devoured the two desserts, which were as delectable as our foodie-friend promised, what to do? We didn’t need the extra calories (and thankfully calorie counts have no place on these non-chain restaurant menus!)

Breathe. The meal was over and we thoroughly enjoyed it. This was hardly the best match of intake and need. Rather, fullness had been overridden by desire, by opportunistic eating (when would I get to try their desserts again?), and the like.

What’s the worst-case scenario? Okay, we took in more than we needed that meal. So what? This is more the exception than the rule—our eating is generally quite fitting for our need. Compensation would lead to consequences—restriction results in excess hunger and deprivation and potentially rebound overeating, or at a minimum, preoccupation with eating.

Besides, we thoroughly enjoyed the two desserts, and the whole dining experience. No regrets.

Would I do anything differently in the future? Perhaps. I just might make a point of going there more often, so it doesn’t feel like a now-or never experience. Gramercy Tavernis not going away anytime soon. I just need to remember that.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Cupcakes for control—A healthy strategy for weight management



No need to wait until the holidays for a slice of pie.
What if you ate what you liked? No, not just ate what you liked but accepted it as ok, too? And what if you allowed yourself to eat enough of it? What if you ate as much as you needed to satisfy your hunger?

Imagine you actually notice your hunger. The signal becomes clear to you as your stomach begins to growl. Then you get annoyed, angry with yourself for feeling. You want to deny the hunger.  You start counting down until the right hour has arrived to eat, to justify the fuel your body begs for. You're angry that your body is fighting with you, telling you that you should eat, that you need to eat, while your thoughts fight back. I shouldn't need to eat—I ate yesterday! I ate too much earlier today! I didn't exercise! I don’t want to gain more weight. I don't deserve to eat.

Well I'll tell you what I argued back, in a session earlier this week: "Don’t expect that you can have it both ways; that you can easily stop eating when you've had enough, while not eating when you haven't had enough! Don't expect that you can deny yourself food and still feel well fueled over time. No, that's just not going to work for you." Ultimately, we need to respect our hunger and to get enough.

"But I should choose healthy foods, right?"


If you only eat what you think you should eat, omitting what you'd truly love to eat, you will keep yearning. You'll have the popcorn, then the fruit, then a yogurt and ultimately the cookies. And not just one cookie. And not just a comfortable amount of cookies. Because even though you're eating them, you're thinking and believing you're not supposed to be. So you shovel them down. You neither taste them nor enjoy them. You'd rather not even feel them. Then you set the unrealistic goal that tomorrow (and the day after, and the day after that) you will not eat sweets, or carbs, or white flour, or fill-in-the blank.

It looked beautiful—the low-fat chocolate soufflĂ© that my husband decided to make, prompted by the professionally photographed image on the cover of my nutrition magazine on our kitchen table. But the taste? Yuck. So after one or two bites, I left it. It made me yearn for the rich, satisfying, molten chocolate desserts my friend Amy makes. What a disappointment. (Now that's not to say there aren't great, satisfying yet reduced calorie desserts, mind you. I've got some really good ones in a soon-to-be-released recovery cook book, in fact).

A patient of mine recently said, "No spray paint supermarket cupcakes for me—if I'm gonna have them, they're going to be good ones from a great bakery." Yes, even full fat desserts can be a let down at times. Last Thursday I was served some of those tasteless, mass-produced brownies at a function, and I couldn't get past a single bite. I came home, still hungry after the yummy vegetarian entrĂ©e I had there, and ate a small bowl of dark chocolate chips, peanuts, and raisins—my go-to when there's no fabulous baked items available. And that hit the spot. I sat at the table, and I enjoyed them.

I'm bragging a bit; I want you to know that it's ok to eat what you like, and to taste it, and truly enjoy it. And that you can leave what you don't like—as long as you're still meeting your needs. (And that doesn't mean leaving what's not 'safe'—that's a very different story. You know who you are.) When I hear patients describing how fabulous something tasted—how much they enjoyed a particular dish or meal—I know they've made progress. That is, if they allowed themselves more that just a bite in a pathological restrictive way that's far from healthy.

Waiting patiently for a satisfying dinner.
When I came home from that 'brownie-evening' out, I noticed that Mica, my dog, had not touched his food. And then I realized. I had placed dry chow in his bowl earlier that afternoon, but had not mixed in his usual and preferred wet food. He was hungry for sure—but you know, dry food alone just doesn't cut it. So he waited patiently for me to return and feed him what he really wanted. And you know what? He even left some food over when he had had enough!

Sometimes when we're hungry we eat for the pleasure, while sometimes it's just for the fuel. When my son was a nursing infant I experienced for the first time eating to live. I often ate simply for the fuel. I got hungry frequently as a new mom juggling my infant's needs and my own and I needed to eat whatever was convenient. I got hungry and I ate anything. Similarly, when I'm hiking or biking I eat to fuel. I'm just looking to get enough, and it's not for the pleasure of eating, but strictly for function. While most other times I eat, in part, for the experience.

Moving forward.


Visions of cupcake vans? Time to allow yourself to eat some!
Does this post resonate? Start noting when you get hungry, and how you respond. Do you honor your hunger and eat? Do you count up your calories to see if you're allowed to eat? Do you check the clock to see if it's acceptable? Put aside those rules and work on responding to your hunger before it gets extreme or you miss your 'window of opportunity'.

Make a list of what you like to eat. And make a list of what you allow yourself to eat. Then start moving things over from one list to the other.

But don't just eat it. Eat it mindfully. Eat it peacefully. Eat it with all your senses. See it. Feel it—the creaminess in your mouth, the granular sugar on the surface. Smell it and hear it. Yes, note the crunch of the chips, the chewy sound of the chocolate caramels. 




And of course taste it. Reallytaste it and enjoy it. Because honestly? It's going to be fine.




Saturday, October 6, 2012

Trying to Change your Relationship with Food? A Letter to your Loved Ones May Help



I frequently describe the chat that needs to happen—between those of you struggling to normalize your eating and move away from compulsive overeating or binge eating, and your loved ones. I spend so much time talking about this in patient sessions that I decided to write it down in a letter form, so all of you in this position can use it.

Why such a conversation, you ask? Because in order to start to change your relationship with food, you need to let go of the fear and the shame you’re all-too-familiar with. To do so, it helps to put it right out there to those who will be seeing you eat and may be surprised by what they see. The last thing you need is more judgment—you’re critical enough of your own eating, you don’t need anyone else’s judgment! So read on and test it out at home!



Dear All-who-really-care about me,

While I know you are worried about my health and my eating please realize that you are not alone. Just because I don’t talk about it with you doesn’t mean I am not concerned. In fact, I am actively working to try a different approach to change my relationship with food, so I thought I’d let you in on it.

Remember all those diets you’ve watched me start and stop, those failed attempts to take control with rigid, senseless rules? Those days are over. “What now?” you’re wondering? “You’re giving up again?” you’re thinking? Think again! Here’s what you can expect to see, so brace yourself.

You know those foods you think I shouldn’t be eating? The foods you and I really like to eat? It’s time to make peace with them, to legalize them. Because now they feel forbidden, and when something feels prohibited I want to eat more of it—just like anyone would. Yes, that’s normal. What isn’t normal is thinking I will never eat cupcakes again—or ice cream, or chocolate, or bread or ‘white carbs’. No, that’s absurd, unrealistic and quite frankly, unnecessary. 

What I’ve been learning from an experienced Registered Dietitian who deals with helping people like me is that it’s not the food that causes the weight gain. No, not the carbs themselves, nor the sugar, nor the fats, but rather how much we eat of them. And I’m learning how to start to take control of my portions of such foods.

First, I’ve got to welcome them back into my diet. You see, when I feel I’m not allowed to eat them, it sets me up for trouble. I feel ashamed if you and others see me eat things, so I’m more inclined to eat them quickly, mindlessly, just because there’s no one around. And trust me, I do. And this goes against what I need to do—to eat them mindfully whenever I’m hungry and choose to eat them.

But I fear the reaction from everyone. So I’m giving you this letter so you won’t be surprised when I sit down at the table and have a couple of cookies. I’ll eat them without distraction and I’ll really enjoy them this way—as opposed to just shoveling them in. Please recognize that I am doing this because I care to feel better and be healthy, so be open-minded. Realize that the diets and restriction have only set me up for problems.

So when you see me at the table eating something you think is ‘bad’, think again. Perhaps you’ll join me and we can normalize our eating together.

Be patient with me--this is a process.  It's not going to get better over night.

Thanks for supporting me and for understanding.

PS: Learn more about my struggle from http://www.dropitandeat.blogspot.com/2012/09/what-ive-learned-about-food-addiction.html

Let me know how it goes!