Eating Competence, Part I

scale-403585_1280So I’ve gained a little weight.

When I say “a little,” I mean somewhere in the range of 30 pounds over the past two years. That was on top of the roughly 20 extra pounds I’ve been cushioned with since 2009, when my youngest child was born. None of these pounds have come easily. No, they’ve been the result of hours, maybe whole days spent counting calories, points, steps and serving sizes. I’ve exercised nearly every day. I’ve read books and magazines. Several times I’ve ordered a medium DQ Blizzard instead of a large.

Clearly, my methods are coming up short.

This shouldn’t be surprising. It’s been shown again and again that food restriction – or dieting, in its many forms – does not generally result in long-term weight loss. Almost all people gain the weight back, often plus some extra. Some people don’t, but they are few and far between and I am not one of them.

So, I’ve tried to accept myself. So I’m fatter. This is only what I look like, it is not me, and the fact is that I feel pretty happy these days.  The trouble is that even if I can accept my fatter self and become a body-positivity advocate and go out and buy clothes that actually fit, instead of wearing the same things all the time – even if I can do all of these things, I don’t want to.

I’ll tell you why. I don’t want to because I’m not comfortable like this. I don’t mean because people might look at me or judge me or find me unattractive.  Of course, there is that, but I’m talking about physical discomfort. I feel heavy, like a human-shaped sandbag. I feel slow and encumbered. My knees and my feet hurt. Yes, there is health at every size, but for me, this size does not feel healthy. Most likely because it isn’t. And so in the evening, nearly every evening, I think: oh my God I have got to start eating less.

And then, nine times out of ten, I eat something.

Yeah, this is not me.
Yeah, this is not me.

My husband doesn’t understand this at all.  He is fully and quite naturally gifted with the skill I call “eating like a normal person.” I don’t mean to imply that the rest of us are abnormal or in some way less-than the “normal” ones. What I mean is that my husband eats when he is hungry, and doesn’t eat when he’s not. Sometimes he eats too much. He almost always eats what he wants, except when it’s not available. He’s able to watch TV for long periods of time without eating a thing, or maybe he might eat a half a package of Chips Ahoy. Last time we went to DQ, he got a large Blizzard and a medium, which he later reported was “enough.” He’s six feet tall and weighs around 180 pounds, a weight which fluctuates maybe 5 pounds in either direction. He doesn’t think much about it.

Meanwhile, I sit here panicking as I watch Melissa McCarthy dropping dress sizes. Don’t leave us! I want to tell her, in my most exceptionally selfish moments. We need you!

I have never measured an apple. Could that be my problem?
I have never measured an apple. Could that be my problem?

So I’ve made up my mind, and I’m making myself accountable by telling it to you: from now on, from this day forward and as God is my witness, I AM GOING TO EAT LIKE A NORMAL PERSON.

There’s likely to be a lot of learning that has to happen here, so it’s lucky for me that I like to read a lot. Right now, what it means to me is that I need to eat what I want to when I’m hungry, and know that I don’t need to eat when I’m not. It sounds so simple it’s almost embarrassing to say. To my husband, and to anyone else who’s never dealt with eating as if it were an enemy to be conquered, it probably sounds pretty ridiculous. Those of you who get it will know that it’s not.

Just eat less and exercise more, people say, and I get it. I know. This is pretty much all you need to do to lost weight, and I know it because I’ve done it tons of times. The problem is that for many of us and certainly for me, restrictions of any sort are not sustainable. For me, restrictions always turn into Oreos. I do not want to spend my life in fear of food. Yes, I want to be thinner. But more than that, I want to one day finish my large DQ Blizzard – or maybe even a medium or a small – and think, yep, that was enough.

Eating like a normal person is hard.  But I am going to figure it out.

More to come.

(Visited 83 times, 1 visits today)
It's nice to share...Share on Facebook0Share on StumbleUpon0Share on Google+0Tweet about this on TwitterShare on LinkedIn0Email this to someonePin on Pinterest0Share on Reddit0Share on Tumblr0

You may also like

2 comments

  1. It’s tough because writing is so sedentary. I try to walk it’s a mental and physical boost. That really helps me.
    And there are people who never seem to put on weight and that is all about metabolism and genetics. Good for them ?my father was one of those people and he also sounds like your husband. My father also used to say the best exercises pushing yourself away from the table. My kids say abs are made in the kitchen not in the gym which is great because that’s where I am all the time anyway LOL. The range of what is healthy body weight for a given height is quite large so if you can make some small adjustments without depriving yourself To be in the high end of the healthy range then that’s enough. And no negative self talk. Xo

    1. Well your father sounds like he was pretty funny 🙂 I do agree that there must be some genetic thingy at play here – but I also believe a lot of it is mental. My husband doesn’t worry about food and so it’s not a big thing for him. I worry about it, and so it is. Except now that I have switched over to “normal” mode, it isn’t a big thing anymore. Voila! Problem solved!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *