I Tried to Eat Perfectly. Diet Culture Demanded It.

Recently, I shared how I used to be a chronic overeater and that I still sometimes eat until I’m uncomfortably full.

Thankfully, this doesn’t bother me much anymore as I’ve stopped trying to be a perfect eater

Things were much different when I was dieting. 

No Wiggle Room
I was devastated whenever I felt I messed up with my eating. There wasn’t any wiggle room or gray area. I was either eating right or I was eating wrong.

Diet culture, with its black-and-white, all-or-nothing approach, teaches us that to be successful, we must follow its rules and binaries perfectly. Wellness culture often does this, too.

Food is either good or bad, healthy or unhealthy, clean or toxic, fattening or slimming. 

You’re either on the wagon or off it. If you fall off, it’s your fault. 

Rather than blaming diet and wellness cultures’ unrealistic and unsustainable standards, you are blamed for not having enough willpower, discipline and self-control.

I certainly bought into all of this.

Thrived on Perfection
As someone with perfectionistic tendencies, I was especially susceptible to the gold-star behaviors diet and wellness cultures demand.  

I thrived on following the rules, doing it right, being good, earning a perfect score. 

I relished the sense of achievement I felt at bedtime when I thought I had eaten perfectly all day. 

I patted myself on the back for staying on track by eating the right food in the right amount at the right time. 

Naturally, I also loathed the sense of failure I felt when I believed I had eaten imperfectly. 

A “bad” choice would completely derail my day. My mood would turn dark, and I’d become preoccupied with how I would make up for it, which usually meant eating less and exercising more.

I took a lot of pride in being a good eater, a healthy eater, a disciplined eater—all traits our society puts on a pedestal. 

I thought eating perfectly made me a better person (another lie I regrettably believed).

In reality, it just made me miserable and intolerable to myself and those closest to me. 

While outsiders praised my eating, my loved ones had to deal with all the tiresome crap that came along with my rigid food rules and relentless pursuit to eat perfectly.

Permission to Be Human
In order to heal my disordered relationship with food, I needed to learn how to stop viewing it through the perfectionistic, black-and-white, good-or-bad lens I had been taught.

I also needed to relearn how to trust myself, my body’s internal cues and my instincts instead of following external sources and rules regarding the “right” way to eat.

When I threw away all the “eat this, not that” lists and started making eating decisions based on what tastes good and feels good in my body, I became a much more flexible, relaxed and peaceful eater.

Instead of striving to be perfect, I gave myself permission to be human, one who most of the time eats until they’re comfortably full and sometimes eats until they’re stuffed.

The Deeper Work
More than anything, I had to do the deeper work of understanding what drove my desire to achieve the perfect diet and the perfect body. 

To truly change, I had to examine the roots of my perfectionism and anti-fat bias, challenge our culture’s body ideals, and question what being healthy truly means.

None of this happened easily or quickly nor have I reached a final destination (I'm not sure there is one). It's an ongoing process but one that's so worth it.

Why I Lived on an Apple and Candy Bar a Day

St. Patrick's Day always stirs up a poignant memory. 

When I was 12 years old, I spent hours in a department store with my mom desperately searching every rack for the perfect green shirt to wear to school on St. Patrick's Day. It was the night before and, with empty hands, I quickly spiraled into a state of distress. Without the perfect shirt, I was absolutely convinced my entire holiday would be ruined.

Funny thing is, I can't remember anything about the actual holiday. But my memory of how distraught I felt is crystal clear. At such a young age, I was completely hitching my happiness to my appearance. Over time, the perfect shirt turned into the perfect hair and, eventually, the perfect body. 

In junior high, if my hair didn't look just right, I spent the entire day in a funk. I remember pointing out to friends how awful it looked. It was critical that I acknowledged it first before they had a chance to say anything (the perfect strategy for protecting myself from my own imaginary ideas about what they were thinking!).

My Apple and Candy Bar Diet
My obsession with obtaining the perfect body escalated in high school. The most intense months were after my boyfriend broke up with me. I lived on an apple and candy bar a day. I figured if I was skinnier, he would regret dumping such a hot chick and come crawling back. Being skinny meant I would be more desirable, acceptable, lovable and cool--basically boyfriend-worthy and bulletproof.

My boyfriend did come back, but the size of my jeans didn't stop my heart from being broken again and again.

A 20-Ton Shield
My never-ending quest for perfection is defined so well by Brene Brown, researcher and author of The Gifts of Imperfection:

"Perfectionism is the belief that if we live perfectly, look perfectly and act perfectly, we can avoid the pain of blame, judgment and shame. It's a 20-ton shield that we lug around thinking it will protect us when, in fact, it's the thing that's really preventing us from taking flight."

Body Bashing Banned
Thanks to help from a handful of wise teachers and coaches, I started releasing my deeply ingrained beliefs regarding perfectionism, especially when it comes to my body. No longer are my days consumed and ruined by my body bashing. No longer does all my energy and headspace go toward fixing it. Naturally I want a strong, healthy body but I no longer believe I will be more happy, lovable and worthy when I fit into my skinny jeans.

I've made peace with my reflection in the mirror. I won't lie; it wasn't easy. Not at first. But I kept at it. Whenever I caught myself going down the path of self-attack, I hit the breaks and turned toward love. As a result, I feel lighter on my feet and in my body, but more importantly, I feel lighter in my heart.

Is your quest for the perfect body, weight, diet, workout regime, relationship, job, or whatever stopping you from taking flight?

Why I Lived on an Apple and Candy Bar a Day...

Yesterday's holiday stirred up some poignant memories. 

When I was 12 years old, I spent hours in a department store with my mom desperately searching every rack for the perfect green shirt to wear to school on St. Patrick's Day. It was the night before and, with empty hands, I quickly spiraled into a state of distress. Without the perfect shirt, I was absolutely convinced my entire holiday would be ruined.

Funny thing is, I can't remember anything about the actual holiday. But my memory of how distraught I felt is crystal clear. At such a young age, I was completely hitching my happiness to external things. Over time, the perfect shirt turned into the perfect hair and, eventually, the perfect body. 

In junior high, if my hair didn't look just right, I spent the entire day in a funk. I remember pointing out to friends how awful it looked. It was critical that I acknowledged it first before they had a chance to say anything (the perfect strategy for protecting myself from my own imaginary ideas about what they were thinking!).

My Apple and Candy Bar Diet
My obsession with obtaining the perfect body escalated in high school. The most intense months were after my boyfriend broke up with me. I lived on an apple and candy bar a day. I figured if I was skinnier, he would regret dumping such a hot chick and come crawling back. Being skinny meant I would be more acceptable, desirable, lovable and cool--basically boyfriend-worthy and bulletproof.

My boyfriend did come back, but the size of my jeans didn't stop my heart from being broken again and again.

A 20-Ton Shield
My never-ending quest for perfection is defined so well by Brene Brown, researcher and author of The Gifts of Imperfection:

"Perfectionism is the belief that if we live perfectly, look perfectly and act perfectly, we can avoid the pain of blame, judgment and shame. It's a 20-ton shield that we lug around thinking it will protect us when, in fact, it's the thing that's really preventing us from taking flight."

Body Bashing Banned
In recent years, I've been releasing my deeply ingrained beliefs regarding perfectionism, especially when it comes to my body. No longer are my days consumed and ruined by my body bashing. No longer does all my energy and headspace go toward fixing it. Naturally, I want a strong, healthy body but I no longer believe I will be healthier, happier or more lovable when I fit into my skinny jeans.

I've made peace with my reflection in the mirror. I won't lie; it wasn't easy. Not at first. But I kept at it. Whenever I caught myself going down the path of self-attack, I hit the breaks and turned toward love. As a result, I feel lighter in my body even though my body hasn’t changed, but more importantly, I feel lighter in my heart.

Is your quest for the perfect body, weight, diet, workout regime, relationship, job, or whatever stopping you from taking flight?