My Eyes Were Glued to the Candy. Food Controlled Me.

When I worked in consumer marketing years ago, we conducted in-person focus groups to get people’s feedback on things like product names, logos, packaging, magazine ads and TV commercials.

The groups were held at a few different research facilities around the Bay Area. As a facilitator led a group, I sat with my teammates in a dimly lit client lounge and observed the participants from behind a one-way mirror.

While I found the feedback interesting and informative, attending the focus groups was pure agony.

You see, they involved a lot of food—food I had made off-limits.

Focused on the Wrong Thing
The client observation rooms were always filled with heaps of food, from pizza, chips, cheese and crackers to cookies, granola bars, candy and more candy.

I was so preoccupied with all the food surrounding me, I often found it challenging to concentrate on what the focus group participants were saying. 

At the time, I was deeply entrenched in diet culture and had a lot of food rules regarding what I could and couldn’t eat. Unless baby carrots were involved, most of the foods provided were on my forbidden foods list.

Internal Tug-of-War
While my teammates freely enjoyed the food, I struggled with a tug-of-war in my head.

On one end of the rope, my inner Diet Rebel voice was saying “Screw it! Just have a few handfuls! It’s no big deal! You can make up for it tomorrow.” 

Pulling with all its might in the other direction was my inner Food Police voice screaming “Stay away! It’s too many calories! Once you start eating, you won’t be able to stop!”

This internal battle happened not only at focus groups but at any situation involving food I considered bad, banned or risky. 

My food fixation was an all-consuming distraction, one that prevented me from being fully present and engaged with the world around me.

Eyes Glued
At one focus group in particular, I vividly remember eyeing a bowl brimming with M&M’s. My eyes were glued on that colorful candy all night long. I desperately wanted to toss a few handfuls into my mouth but doing so felt like a huge no-no.

Not only was candy frowned upon on my diet, I was also ashamed to be caught eating it in front of my co-workers, who had all at various times complimented me on my seemingly healthy habits, unwavering self-discipline and recent weight loss.

It wasn’t so much that I thought they would make negative comments. I was more worried about them teasing me, perhaps calling me out for cheating on my diet or jokingly saying something like “I can’t believe YOU are eating candy!”

Having what I perceived as an act of weakness witnessed and remarked on by others felt intolerable to me. 

However, once the focus group was over and everyone left the room, I hurriedly dumped a bunch of the M&M’s into my bag and ate them on my way home when no one could witness my transgression. 

I consumed the candy with such a sense of urgency that I hardly tasted it much less enjoyed it. Sneaking it felt more like satisfying an intense need to fill a hole, albeit temporarily, that years of deprivation had dug. 

Restriction Driving Fixation
Afterward, I felt pretty pathetic. Flooded with feelings of guilt and shame, I immediately made a plan to get back on track the next day.

What I didn’t understand at the time was that I didn’t mess up or do anything wrong. That I wasn’t weak or lacking willpower, discipline or self-control. 

I was human. And my behavior was a natural response to food deprivation and scarcity. 

My food restriction was driving my food fixation.

I would have been able to focus on the focus group if I wasn’t denying myself food. It would have been no big deal to eat the foods surrounding me if I wasn’t trying to adhere to a bunch of food rules that ignored my body's needs and desires. 

Control Backfires
Sadly, diet culture teaches us that if your eating feels out of control, you need to pull the reins in tighter and control it more. The opposite is actually true. 

The more you control your food, the more it controls you. 

The more you try to control your eating, the more likely you are to eat in ways that feel out of control and unsatisfying.  

When I ditched dieting and my food rules and started giving myself unconditional permission to eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, I stopped fixating on food.

I no longer feared being in situations where food was involved. Instead, I was able to be present, engaged and enjoy myself, my company—and the food.

I wish the same for you.

I Ate Freely on July 4th. Until I Learned I Shouldn't.

With the Fourth of July upon us, I’ve been reflecting on what Independence Day was like for me as a kid.

Naturally, the fireworks were the highlight of the holiday. However, I also have very fond memories of the food.

I recall kicking off the festivities with a pancake breakfast at our local pool. I happily gobbled up syrup-soaked flapjacks topped with strawberries, blueberries and whipped cream in honor of the occasion.

After hours of swimming and playing with my neighborhood friends, the day would end with a big block party. What a thrill it was to be able to ride my banana-seat bike down the middle of our street!

Picnic tables were hauled from backyards and covered with an array of homemade summer dishes, while a couple of grills smoked away on the sidelines.

Food-Fueled Fun
My nighttime fun was fueled by ketchup-covered hot dogs, honey baked beans, buttery corn-on-the-cob, juicy watermelon wedges, salty chips and dip, and very patriotic Jell-O salads. All of this was washed down with thirst-quenching cups of lemonade.

No matter what I ate, I always had room for a fudgy brownie or strawberry shortcake topped with rapidly melting vanilla ice cream.

I ate what looked good, tasted good and felt good in my body. Sometimes I ate it all, and sometimes I left some behind.

I ate freely and intuitively. 

Not Yet Tainted
My young mind hadn’t been tainted yet by diet culture—an oppressive system built on anti-fat bias and unrealistic body ideals, one that’s full of food rules, good/bad food lists, meticulous tracking, (e.g., calories, points, macros, etc.), intentional deprivation, punishing exercise and false promises.

I hadn’t been taught yet that I should be hyper-vigilant with food and micro-manage every morsel.

No one had told me yet that my body couldn’t be trusted and that I needed to rely on a plan or program to tell me how to eat.

I hadn’t learned to abhor my belly, demonize certain foods, feel ashamed about my eating and compensate for my food sins. 

I didn't worry about others judging my choices nor did I sneak food to protect myself from scrutiny.

Do I Want It?
While I loved all that food, I had more exciting and important things to focus on, like water-balloon tosses, sparklers and bottle rockets.

As an Intuitive Eater, I just ate and moved on.

Eating was simply a matter of: I can have it. Do I want it?

Diet Mentality Takes Over
Unfortunately, all of this changed as I entered my teenage years and began adopting a diet mentality powered by salads, rice cakes, diet sodas (hello, Tab!) and Jane Fonda workouts.

My desire to achieve the “thin ideal” led to decades of disordered eating and exercise.

Thankfully, with help from some very wise guides, I eventually broke free from diet culture and made peace with food and my body.

The healing process wasn’t easy or fast. Some days, I feel like I'm still a work-in-progress. But, it’s all been worth it.

Ending the war I was waging against myself enabled me to return to the food freedom and body liberation I experienced as a young girl.   

It’s Still Within You
I’m sharing this story as a reminder that, for the most part, we all came into this world as Intuitive Eaters—that is, we ate based on our instincts, inner cues and desires. As long as our needs were met, we were able to eat without worry, guilt, fear or shame.

Sadly, we’re losing touch with our ability to eat intuitively at a younger and younger age. Shockingly, an estimated 80 percent of 10-year-old girls have been on a diet.

I’m also sharing my experience to assure you that if you’ve become disconnected from the Intuitive Eater within you, you can reconnect with it.

It hasn’t gone away. It’s just buried under layers of diet-culture gunk, which today, is often packaged under the guise of “wellness.”

Magical Powers Not Required
I don’t have any magical powers. My clients don’t either. If we can relearn how to listen to and trust our bodies, it’s quite likely you can, too.

“I’m no longer searching for the ‘answer’ to the perfect way to eat. I don’t stress about how I eat because it isn’t that big of a deal anymore. I no longer believe those food guilt thoughts and that is F-R-E-E-D-O-M!” 
–Client Molly

I'm Like a Kid in a Candy Story. I Want It All!

When I go to the farmers market in the summer, I’m like a kid in a candy store. I want it all!

Yesterday, I went with the intention of buying a few handfuls of cherries before they are gone for the season. I left with not only a big bagful of those dark burgundy beauties but also with a bag brimming with fragrant white nectarines and deep purple plums. 

I can’t help myself. I absolutely love all the juicy, plump summer fruit.

Despite my intentions, I always buy much more than I planned—and I relish every single mouth-watering bite.

Pleasure and Scarcity
I experience tremendous pleasure when a sweet cherry tomato bursts inside my mouth, when juice runs down my forearm as I bite into a succulent yellow peach, and when a wedge of cool, crisp watermelon not only refreshes my entire being on a hot day but also reminds me of childhood block parties and lakeside picnics.

In addition to pleasure, I also experience scarcity.

As these luscious fruits are only in season for a few months of the year, I feel a sense of urgency to eat them all right away, before they disappear until next summer. 

Sure, I will buy a container of tomatoes or bag of frozen berries in the winter, however, their flavor doesn't light up my tastebuds the way in-season produce does.

I’ve written before about the role scarcity plays in our relationship with food, about how when something we need or desire is scarce or under the threat of scarcity, it’s a natural human response to want to get as much of it as possible as fast as possible before it’s gone. 

This is certainly the case for me when it comes to summer fruit. How does scarcity show up for you?

Unnecessary Deprivation
The scarcity you experience could be unintentional, such as only having access to a particular food for a limited time perhaps due to its location, supply shortages, budget constraints or seasonal availability.

It may also be intentional, such as purposefully restricting certain foods, like bread, cheese or sweets, often with the goal of weight loss.

Because summer’s bounty brings me so much joy, it’s always made me a little sad when folks share that they’ve cut out fruit because it’s not allowed on their diet. 

Of course, I absolutely understand if you need to limit your fruit intake due to a health condition. 

However, after years of restricting a long list of foods in an attempt to shrink my body, I don’t want you to experience the unnecessary deprivation and dissatisfaction I did, to miss out on one of life’s greatest and simplest pleasures if you truly don’t need to.

Nor do I want you to experience the backlash that can occur when you deprive yourself of food, such as obsessive food thoughts, intense cravings, overeating, binge-like eating and social isolation.

While I regret the many years I wasted dieting, I’m grateful my cherished fruits weren’t on the bad food lists back then. In fact, my diet mainly consisted of fruit and other carbs like bread, cereal and pasta—a big switch from today’s food rules.

Gusto and Glee
With summer upon us, I encourage you to consider if you’re needlessly depriving yourself of the seasonal delights that bring you abundant pleasure and if so, what are the consequences?

How would it feel to instead freely enjoy your favorite foods with gusto, to lick the peach juice, barbecue sauce, ice cream or corn-on-the-cob butter off your fingers with glee?