When Did Food Become Complicated for You?

Recently, I was talking with some friends and family members about what our favorite meal was when we were kids.

Mine was spaghetti.

Specifically, spaghetti with only butter and Parmesan cheese.

I vividly recall eating this combo at one of our family’s favorite restaurants, Spaghetti Works, where it was called “Hot Naked.”

When ordering, I was too embarrassed to say “naked” so I would shyly point to it on the menu as my cheeks burned bright red. My mortification, however, did not stop me from ordering my beloved dish.

In addition to those buttery noodles, I loved many different foods, from pepperoni pizza and buttermilk pancakes to sloppy joes and peanut-butter-and-pickle sandwiches. And, of course, I relished anything sweet.

Food was easy back then.

I ate it and moved on.

After all, I had far more exciting things to focus on, like riding bikes and playing hide-and-seek with my neighborhood friends.

When Food Became Complicated
I sometimes reflect on when food started to become complicated for me.

While I can’t pinpoint an exact moment, I do recall starting to view food differently when I was around 11 or 12 years old and feeling terribly awkward in my rapidly changing pubescent body.

One memory is of my best friend and I making these giant chef salads loaded with iceberg lettuce, diced turkey, shredded cheddar, herb-seasoned croutons and low-cal ranch dressing. As we dug in, we’d pat ourselves on the back for making something healthy and hopefully slenderizing.

I remember another moment around this time when, as I reached for a chocolate-fudge brownie at a family reunion, an older boy shouted across the crowded kitchen, “Once on the lips, forever on the hips!”

With my shoulders slumped, head down and cheeks burning with shame and humiliation, I turned away without saying a word and headed to a quiet corner to eat my brownie alone because who would want to be watched doing something seemingly bad?

As I entered high school, I started getting more deeply entrenched in diet culture, from drinking diet soda and replacing meals with SlimFast shakes to burning calories in aerobics classes.

For a short while, I doubled down on these efforts believing that if I lost a lot of weight my ex-boyfriend would regret dumping me and beg me to take him back.

Even More Complicated
In my later teens, my dad was diagnosed with heart disease and our kitchen became fat-free practically overnight. At that time, even almonds and avocados were off-limits.

From Snackwell’s chocolate-chip cookies and non-fat lemon yogurt to blueberry bagels with fat-free cream cheese, I continued to eat fat-free throughout college because I was taught doing so was the ticket to good health and a thin body.

Shortly after moving from Omaha to San Francisco a few years after graduating, I started restricting my eating further.

My list of food rules grew longer and more complicated. Being hyper-vigilant with my eating gave me the illusion of control in an environment where I felt like a complete fish out of water.

Hitting Rock Bottom
My struggle with food and my weight went on for years until I finally hit rock bottom.

I didn’t like the person I had become (frankly, neither did the people closest to me). And I no longer wanted to waste my life trying to have a body I was never meant to have.

With the help of some very wise guides, I came to understand that I can trust my body to tell me what it needs and to weigh what it’s meant to weigh—just as I used to do long ago before diet culture eroded this trust.

I returned to making food decisions based on my body’s cues and satisfaction, including how foods tasted and felt in my body. No longer were my choices driven by food rules, good and bad lists, and how something might impact my weight.

I started regularly eating all my favorite foods again instead of restricting then bingeing on them as I did during my dieting days.

And I felt a sense of freedom with food that I hadn’t felt since I was a young girl.

What About You?
We come into this world knowing how to eat intuitively.

Sadly, for many reasons, we start to disconnect from our instincts and internal cues and instead start following external rules that, for many, result in a disordered relationship with food and their body.

When did food start becoming complicated for you?

Can you remember a time when food was not an issue? If so, how did it feel?

If you were to decide tomorrow that you’re finally done with being at war with food and your body, what steps would you take next?

It’s completely understandable if you feel some ambivalence about stopping dieting and being so tightly regimented with food and your body. Loosening the reins can feel both exciting and scary.

Perhaps a first step might just be imagining what would be possible for you and your life if food was no longer complicated.

How Dieting Destroys Body Trust

Do you trust your body?

There are various reasons why you may not trust your body. Dieting could be one of them.

When you follow a diet (this includes any plan with food rules and restrictions, regardless of what it’s called), you’re letting someone else dictate what and how you eat.

The people behind all the diet programs rely on your reliance on them so they work really hard to convince you that you and your body can’t be trusted, that you need them because they know better than you what your body needs.

They teach you to prioritize their external rules over your inner cues.

They cause you to disconnect from your body and deny its needs and desires.

They destroy the trust you once had in your body, before you learned it was a problem to be solved. 

The thing is, no one knows your body better than you do.

No one knows better than you when you’re hungry, how much food you need, what kind of food you need, what foods satisfy you, and how different foods feel in your body.

Give Your Power and Freedom Away
The desire to diet is completely understandable given our weight-obsessed culture with its unrealistic body standards and tendency to equate thinness with health and moral virtue.

Given our confusing, constantly changing "eat this, don't eat that" food environment, it's also completely understandable to want someone else to just tell you what to eat.

It's important to understand, however, that although well-intentioned, when you hand your food decisions over to an external source, you give your power and freedom away.

As a result, you may eventually find yourself rebelling against the diet and its unsustainable requirements that disregard your body's wants and needs. 

When this happens, it's typical to view it as self-sabotage, a lack of willpower and self-discipline, and further proof that you and your body can't be trusted when it comes to food.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

By rebelling, you’re simply trying to regain a sense of autonomy and freedom—two of the many things dieting takes away from you.

You are the Expert
You are the expert of your own body.

Intuitive Eating helps you tap into this expertise and reconnect with your body.

It helps you rebuild the body trust you came into this world with.

It teaches you how to listen to and honor your body wisdom and how to use this innate knowledge to discern what way of eating works best for you.

Ultimately, it empowers you to take back your power and freedom—and to fully trust yourself and your body.

A Birthday Party Wrapped in Diet Culture

What role does diet culture play in your life?

From the bakery line, dinner table and workplace to classrooms, doctors’ offices, TV shows and social media, diet culture is everywhere.

It has become so prevalent, normalized and accepted that it’s easy to not see it or question its impact, including the harm it can cause.

It’s completely understandable if you’re not quite sure what diet culture is. It’s a term a lot of people are unfamiliar with. However, once you understand what it means, you start to see it everywhere, including in your own life.

Diet Culture Defined
So what exactly is diet culture?

In her book, Anti-Diet, Christy Harrison sums up diet culture as:

“A system of beliefs that...

• equates thinness, muscularity, and particular body shapes with health and moral virtue;

• promotes weight loss and body reshaping as a means of attaining higher status;

• demonizes certain foods and food groups while elevating others; and

• oppresses people who don’t match its supposed picture of ‘health.’”

Wrapped in Diet Culture
Harrison goes on to give examples of diet culture, including skipping a birthday party because you’re afraid you’ll have to eat cake.

To further illustrate what diet culture looks like, let’s expand on this birthday party scenario.

Imagine it’s your nephew’s tenth birthday. You don’t want to attend his party because you don’t like how you look and you’re afraid you’ll lose control with the food that’s served.

You decide to go regardless because you love your family and value spending time with them.

On your way there, you listen to one of your favorite podcasts, which is sponsored by a weight-loss program that promises fast results and a detox tea endorsed by a celebrity.

When you arrive, you overhear your mom congratulating a cousin on her recent weight loss because diet culture has taught us to applaud weight loss as if it's someone’s greatest life achievement.

You reflect on how your cousin might feel if she gains the weight back, which inevitably happens to the majority of dieters. You know this all too well having “failed” countless diets over the years.

To avoid any comments your mom might make regarding the weight you’ve gained during one of the most traumatic years of our lives, you head right to the snack table. Once there, you’re relieved to discover a platter of crudité as carrot sticks and bell pepper strips are on your current diet’s green-light list.

While putting some veggies on a plate, your aunt praises you for being such a healthy eater, which is understandable as diet culture has trained us to put healthy eaters on a pedestal.

She goes on to say how bad she is because of all the chips and crackers she’s been snacking on. It’s hard to pay attention to her because you’re distracted with thoughts about how you can sneak some chocolate candy when no one is looking.

As you nibble on your crudité, you scan the bookshelf and observe how many of the diet books you also own. You laugh to yourself as you reflect on how we once believed eating fat was the worst thing we could possibly do. How misguided we all were!

Everyone gathers around when it’s time to cut the cake. You notice your eight-year-old niece is jumping up and down and clapping her hands with excited anticipation, likely because her parents rarely allow sweets in their house because, well you know, sugar is poison.

As cake slices are being distributed, your brother declines a piece because he’s not eating carbs, your mom asks for just a sliver because she’s watching her figure, and your uncle announces while accepting a slice that today is his cheat day.

A neighbor chimes in exclaiming how sinfully good the cake is. She then admits she will need to make up for eating it by working out extra hard later. Many of the guests laugh and nod in agreement.

Meanwhile, you graciously take a piece of cake and then hide it in the trashcan when no one is around because you’re afraid that once you start eating it you’ll never stop.

Leaving the kitchen, you spot your niece quietly slip off to her bedroom with another plate of cake. You see yourself in her as you, too, started sneaking food when you were young to avoid getting in trouble for eating the foods you loved. You understood that eating those "bad" foods made you a bad kid, so of course you didn't want to get caught.

As the party wraps us, your sister-in-law attempts to send the leftover cake and snacks home with everyone because she doesn’t trust herself with all that food in the house, well, except for the raw vegetables.

Some family members talk about getting dinner after the party but your sister declines because she doesn’t eat after 6 p.m. You pass as well because you don’t want to be tempted to eat anything that’s off-plan, especially after being so good all day.

On the way home, exhausted from being so hyper-vigilant about your eating, you stop to pick up a salad because it sounds more appealing than the meal-replacement shake you’re supposed to have for dinner. You end up ordering pizza, breadsticks and a brownie because, understandably, you feel deprived and unsatisfied. While it all tastes delicious the experience is tainted by feelings of guilt and shame. You get angry with yourself for your lack of willpower and self-discipline.

In bed that night you scroll through Instagram looking at before-and-after photos, clean eating tips and bikini-body workouts while promising yourself that tomorrow you’ll get back on track.

Diet Culture's Harmful Impact
While everyone at the party meant well—after all, we all swim in this same toxic stew—most people don’t understand how damaging diet culture can be. The amount of harm and unnecessary suffering it causes is vast, from food fears and body mistrust to weight stigma and eating disorders.

More than anything, it keeps you from focusing on more meaningful, fulfilling things and participating fully in life.

You Can Opt Out
I believe in body autonomy, including the right to diet and eat however you want. However, if engaging with diet culture isn’t working for you, you can opt out.

Although diet culture is pervasive, you can minimize your participation in it, from unfollowing diet-culture accounts on social media and setting boundaries regarding diet and weight talk to reclaiming your ability to eat intuitively and embracing body diversity.

I think you’ll discover, as both my clients and I have, that by opting out of diet culture, you will feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders—and you’ll no longer be afraid of birthday parties.

For a deeper dive into diet culture, I highly recommend reading Anti-Diet. For a shorter read, check out this article. Both of these are great resources to share with friends and family members. If you want support with recovering from diet culture, I’m here for you.