I Eat When I'm Not Hungry. This Used to be a Bad Thing.

The other day, I ate my lunch much earlier than usual even though I wasn’t hungry. 

I had an appointment downtown during my regular lunchtime and knew if I didn’t eat beforehand, I wouldn’t be able to eat until much later. Experience has taught me this would turn me into one cranky lady with a headache and brain fog.

During my dieting days, I likely wouldn’t have eaten before my appointment. Thanks to diet culture, I believed it was wrong to eat when I wasn’t hungry.

Perhaps you have believed this, too.

You might also feel this way with Intuitive Eating as there is a misconception that eating intuitively means only eating when you’re hungry.

While it’s important to honor your hunger when it surfaces to the best of your ability, it’s also important to give yourself unconditional permission to eat when you’re not hungry.

Many Valid Reasons
There are many valid reasons why you may need or want to eat in the absence of hunger. Here are some scenarios you might relate to:

• Your partner or friend is fixing a snack and even though you aren’t hungry, you accept their invitation to share it because it’s a yummy activity you enjoy doing together, especially while watching a favorite show.

• You find nibbling on food throughout the day, regardless of your hunger level, helps you stay focused on your work, so you have a dedicated snack drawer in your desk.

• Years of dieting have disconnected you from your hunger cues. To ensure you’re nourishing your mind and body on a regular basis, you eat a meal or snack at least every 3-4 hours even if you don’t feel hungry.

• You’re not usually hungry during your scheduled breaktimes but you eat anyway as it’s the only chance you’ll get for a while.

• You have an afternoon of back-to-back meetings so you eat lunch early to ensure you will have the focus and energy needed to be present and productive.

• When you’re sad, eating your favorite comfort foods is one way you self-soothe. It’s not about taking care of your physical hunger but rather your very human need for emotional comfort.

• You are going to a show, and although you aren’t hungry for dinner yet, you eat anyway to avoid becoming ravenous and distracted by your growling stomach during the event.

• You’re not hungry before your workout but eat a snack as you know your body will benefit from the extra fuel.

• It’s rare for you to be hungry when it’s time to feed your kids dinner but you eat with them anyway as you love the ritual of sharing a meal together and talking about your day.

• A health condition or medication you’re taking makes it challenging to sense your hunger cues, so you eat according to a schedule to ensure you’re consistently giving your body what it needs.

• At the last minute, your friends decide to go to dinner. Although you don’t have much of an appetite yet, you decide to join them as you don’t want to miss out on a night of fun and bonding.

• You’re not hungry but know the snacks offered on your flight won’t be enough to satiate you later so you eat a meal before you board.

• You turn to food when you’re anxious as the act of eating, whether you’re hungry or not, helps you calm your nervous system and feel grounded.

• You’re walking down the street and are enticed by the delicious aroma wafting from a nearby food truck. You stop and buy something not because you’re hungry but because you want to experience the pure pleasure of their food.

Form of Self-Care
Whether your reason (quite frankly, you don’t even need one) is practical, logistical, emotional, values-based, pleasure-driven, etc., non-hunger eating is often a form of self-care.

It’s a way of taking care of yourself, a way of ensuring your needs are met.

If eating when you’re not hungry makes you feel bad or guilty, I encourage you to reflect on the beliefs behind these feelings. Where did they come from? Are they serving you? How would you feel if you let them go? 

It’s understandable if it feels scary to defy diet culture and trust yourself to make eating decisions that work best for you. With each small step you take back to yourself, you’re one step closer to a more empowering relationship with food, one that’s full of ease, peace and freedom.

My Last Last Supper. It Involved A Lot of Bread.

Many years ago, I went to see a naturopath about some health challenges I was having. As part of my treatment, she asked me to eliminate some foods from my diet, including gluten. Desperate to feel better, I agreed to do so.

I gave myself one last week to eat all my favorite gluten-containing foods.

During those last few days, I vividly recall feasting on artisanal sourdough loaves from my beloved local bread maker. 

I also raided all my favorite bakeries loading up on blueberry scones, chocolate chip cookies, veggie focaccia, chocolate fudge cake, and yes, more bread.

The idea of future deprivation drove this intense phase of one-last-shot, now-or-never eating. I happily gorged on gluten while simultaneously grieving the end of our relationship.

Can you relate to this behavior?

It’s called Last Supper Eating.

Farewell-to-Food Feast
Before embarking on a new diet, plan or program, have you ever found yourself eating everything in sight, especially the foods that will soon be forbidden?

Or perhaps you planned one last elaborate meal featuring all the dishes that would be off-limits starting tomorrow.

If you’re a yo-yo dieter, you’re likely very familiar with this pre-dieting ritual. Maybe it occurs every Sunday night before you get back on track on Monday.

Like many of my clients, you may view this period of intense, frantic consumption—which is often followed by overwhelming guilt—as “proof” that you need to restrict your eating because you simply can’t control yourself around food.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

The threat of food restriction can naturally trigger a Last Supper, farewell-to-food feast. It’s human nature to respond this way when deprivation and scarcity are just around the corner.

Yet, it’s so easy to go into self-blame and shame.

How to End Last Supper Eating
Intuitive Eating puts an end to Last Supper Eating.

With Intuitive Eating, there is no deprivation. You have unconditional permission to eat whatever looks good, tastes good, and feels good in your body.

Instead of depriving yourself and eating according to a set of rules, you ask yourself questions such as: What will hit the spot? What will satisfy my needs and desires? Is this satisfying? Do I like how it tastes and how it makes my body feel? Would I do anything differently next time?

In the Driver's Seat
When I started reclaiming my ability to eat intuitively, I asked myself if I actually liked the gluten-free foods I was eating.

The gluten-free bread, for example, was tolerable. It wasn’t delicious. It was simply an expensive vehicle for nut butter.

Since it wasn’t medically necessary for me to eliminate gluten (i.e., I don’t have celiac disease), I experimented with eating my beloved breads again, along with other gluten-containing foods—and my body felt just fine.

Although well-intentioned, the diet the naturopath put me on didn’t improve my health. It only caused a lot of unnecessary stress and left me feeling deprived and unsatisfied, which always backfires.

As an Intuitive Eater, I'm in the driver's seat. 

I determine what works best for me by staying attuned to the messages my body sends and focusing on what's satisfying.

If I skip a particular food because I don’t like how it tastes or feels in my body, I don’t view it as deprivation as I know I can have it if I truly want it, now or in the future.

It's such a relief to know I’ve had my last Last Supper.

Is It Ok to Eat Sweet Potatoes? When Food Stresses You Out

Many years ago, when I was deeply entrenched in wellness culture, I was listening to an episode of a popular podcast that was all about optimizing your health.

The host and his guest were taking calls from listeners. I’ll never forget one listener who called in to ask if sweet potatoes were allowed on the particular “lifestyle diet” she was following. 

I was struck by the distraught tone of her voice and how stressed she was about whether or not it was okay to eat a sweet potato. 

Of course, there was a part of me that related to her struggle. 

While I never restricted sweet potatoes, I certainly restricted many other foods I considered “bad."

Like her, I often felt confused about what I should or shouldn’t be eating and feared breaking a food rule as doing so felt catastrophic. I identified with her desire to eat perfectly and her need to be in control of every morsel she consumed.

And, I understood all too well the overwhelming, relentless stress and anxiety that comes along with all of this. 

I Felt Sad, Too
However, there was also a part of me that felt sad—sad for her and sad about the entire situation. 

I remember thinking there was something not quite right about being so stressed out about eating a particular food—and something not quite right about three adults discussing the pros and cons of her eating it.

It was distressing to consider how much time and energy we were all wasting on our quest to be perfect, healthy eaters when there were so many more important, meaningful and fulfilling things to focus on. 

Was this really the best use of our lives? 

And, if what we were doing in the “name of health” was causing us so much emotional stress, was it really healthy?

Started to Question
It was moments like these that caused me to start questioning wellness culture, which is mostly diet culture in disguise, and my participation in it.

I was beginning to see the many ways it can trigger disordered eating with all its fearmongering, good and bad foods, eat this, not that lists, and gazillion other often conflicting and harmful messages, all largely driven by anti-fat bias.

I started to examine my own food rules and fears, including investigating where they came from, the evidence behind them, and if they truly supported my wellbeing. 

I discovered that none of them were warranted.

They disconnected me from my body, caused a lot of needless suffering and stress, and stopped me from having an intuitive, satisfying and peaceful relationship with food.

Of course, if I had a health condition that necessitated avoiding a specific food, like Celiac disease or a shellfish allergy, trepidation about consuming gluten, shrimp, etc. would be an understandable, rational fear. 

I hope the sweet-potato lady eventually overcame her unnecessary food fears, ditched her stressful rules and found her way to food freedom. And, I hope you do, too.