Food

I love food.

If you know me, you know this about me.  I especially love sweet foods, and at times feel like a bottomless pit that could never get tired of candy and baked goods, if I let myself eat them all day every day.

And the fact that I love food--I have decided--is not a flaw about me.  I have long thought it was.  I tend to eat more than the average woman, and though I am also much taller than the average woman, I have always felt shame about this.  I should be more dainty in my eating habits, I should leave more food on my plate, etc.  That although I'm six feet tall, I should be eating for a 5'4'' frame.

I have discovered that I am recovering from disordered eating.  Not from an eating disorder, no.  But from a few good years of using food as a source of comfort, almost treating it like a friend.  Until this past May, it wasn't unusual for me to go out of my way for a Zaxby's milkshake, Chick Fil A breakfast, or order pizza in by myself (among other things-- these are just a few).  Every day, sometimes multiple times a day.  Breaking those habits was one of the hardest things I've done, and though I see nothing wrong with the occasional fast food, I was doing it too often.

When people talk about the term "comfort food," they usually mean something such as ice cream, or warm baked chocolate chip cookies with milk, or cornbread and bean stew.  Something to remind them of a simpler, happier time.  Something that brings them comfort.  For me, all food is comfort food.  Had a bad day?  Let's eat.  Had a good day?  Let's eat.  Had an ok day?  Let's eat again.  It doesn't matter the occasion, the emotion, or the people I'm with.  Food brings me comfort.  Of course, certain foods do this more than others, but I simply love eating.

So.  For the past four months, I have been re-wiring the way I think about food.  I still LOVE food.  That will never change.  But even just the little things.  Going to coffee with friends does not mean I need a scone with that coffee.  Going to the movies doesn't mean I should get popcorn and nachos with my diet coke.  Slowly it is becoming less of a conscious decision for me to not do these things.  And sometimes I still do them, and it's ok.  But I'm learning to enjoy things I love without always involving food with them.  That is a process.  One I'm still learning and may always be learning.

It is difficult at times, but also incredibly freeing.

Sorry for the scattered thoughts on the subject.  And thanks to my friend, Lindsey, for listening when I was sorting through some of these thoughts.