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.

I Love This Summer Delight. My Food Police Doesn't Want Me To.

How do you feel about zucchini?

It’s not a favorite of mine.

I just think it doesn’t bring much to the party flavor-wise.

I do, however, love zucchini bread—making it and eating it. 

Well, that’s not entirely true. While I do enjoy making it for the most part, I do not enjoy the messy act of shredding the zucchini. 

Although it’s a pain to clean up, this doesn’t stop me from gathering zucchini from my family’s garden and baking multiple loaves throughout the summer. 

But let’s face it. Traditional zucchini bread, in my opinion, can be a bit ho-hum. 

I like to jazz it up by adding an abundance of walnuts and dark chocolate chips. Doing so adds additional layers of flavor and texture resulting in a truly yummy summer delight.

Knowing I have a freshly baked loaf of nutty, chocolatey zucchini bread to relish with a few mugs of piping-hot tea in the morning always makes me a bit more excited to get out of bed. I especially love dunking pieces of it in my tea as doing so turns the chocolate chips warm and gooey.

Food Police Spoiled It
There was once a time in my life when I couldn’t enjoy my homemade zucchini bread with such gusto. 

When I was entrenched in diet culture, my inner Food Police, the voice in my head that’s always trying to make me feel bad about my eating, was relentless. 

It was loud, critical and punitive. It made me feel guilty and regretful of my choices. 

It told me I shouldn’t be eating zucchini bread, that desiring it was wrong, that I needed to restrict my consumption, that I needed to make it a rare treat, that I should at least use a low-cal recipe.

It made me feel like I couldn’t be trusted with it, that it would be better to give it to a neighbor, take it to my coworkers, put it in the freezer, or just toss it in the trash.

As with many other foods it deemed bad, it insisted on spoling my relationship with zucchini bread. 

Instilled a Deprivation Mindset
By instilling a deprivation mindset, my Food Police caused me to obsess about the zucchini bread. All day long, I wanted to go back into the kitchen for more but, according to my Food Police, doing so was a big no-no.

My preoccupation with the zucchini bread wasn’t due to a lack of willpower, weak self-control or food addiction. It was a natural human response to deprivation and scarcity.

My brain perceived my Food Police’s command to deprive myself as a threat that scarcity was just around the corner. To protect me, it urged me to consume the zucchini bread as quickly as possible before there was a shortage. Basically, it was telling me to “Get it all now before it’s gone!”

Of course, I didn’t know at the time that food restriction, whether real or perceived, leads to food obsession. 

All I knew was that my Food Police made me feel like crap and I was tired of feeling crappy about my eating. Something had to change.

With help from some wise guides, I started to divest from diet culture, defy my Food Police and give myself unconditional permission to eat however much zucchini bread I wanted whenever I wanted.

Slowly, I began feeling more neutral about its presence and the act of eating it. To my surprise, I eventually discovered I could enjoy it when I wanted it and then move on with my day. The same became true with the other foods my Food Police demonized.

Like a Bothersome Fly
I’m grateful I’m now able to savor my zucchini bread throughout the summer without guilt, shame, fear or regret. 

I’d be lying, however, if I said my Food Police no longer barges in. 

Even though it’s been years since I stopped restricting my eating, it still occasionally pops up and tries to enforce its food rules. Unsurprisingly, I find its presence incredibly annoying.

A big difference between my restriction days and now is how I respond to my inner Food Police, which, infuriatingly, may never completely go away due to how deeply pervasive and ingrained diet culture messaging can be.

Today, I no longer listen to my Food Police or abide by its commands. Instead, I swat it away like a bothersome fly and stay focused on what tastes and feels the most satisfying to me, whether that’s zucchini bread or some other delight. 


What foods does your inner Food Police make you feel bad about? How would it feel to challenge this voice? How would your relationship with food change if your Food Police no longer interfered with your eating?