In the past week and two days, I’ve had something major happen. The desire to overeat, or eat for the wrong reasons is slowly disappearing. This is not the time to be cocky about my actions (I’ve been there), but at the very least thoughtful and aware of them. Fighting the urge to overeat, for me, is a task that has consumed me most of my life.
And yet, when I cut out the food that calls to me, the battle disappears. I know right now that I have a five pound bag of sugar in the pantry. Right next to the flour. I know that I have butter in the refrigerator and muffins in the freezer. It’s not that these things are bad or I think they are to blame. But, it’s nice to know that I can live in harmony with these things in my kitchen.
Knowing that I’m only 10 minutes away from freshly baked cookies or bread, does not consume because I know that I won’t be eating them. Or even making them for that matter. But to say sure, I’ll have a couple. Which inevidebly turns into, go ahead and have a few. And finally, screw this, I’ll start over tomorrow. All the while wondering if any other human being has ever consumed 12 cookies in one sitting. Or an entire frozen pizza. Or cake or pie or a sweet apple crumble.
It’s nice not to be a contender in the tug of war that is me against whatever it is I’m trying not to overeat. Whatever concoction I can come up with in my kitchen when I just need a little something sweet. Because I’ve been good. Because I’ve had a hard day. Or because gosh darnit I deserve a little dessert. A mug full of microwave cocoa, butter and sugar. I’ve done it, oh yes I have. But, it’s never, or I should say rarely a little dessert for me. A little taste. A no thank you “it’s too rich for me”. I have not tasted, I’ve consumed.
I’ve come to realize that I’ve been trying to lose weight wanting to be that person. Wanting to be the person who already fought and won. Wanting to be the person maintaning. Figuring it out. Having a little something on the weekends, but still watching. I wanted to skip these steps of saying no or realizing that I can in fact live without so much sugar, and so much flour and so many potatoes. I can still find comfort and contentment in roasted vegetables and chicken, Indian curries and sauces, fluffy brown rice, sticky ribs right off the grill or crisp apples dipped in almond butter.
But I know that I need a game plan for the day that I do eat a little sugar or warm bread dipped in olive oil, or a pizza right out of the brick oven. Those days are inevitable. But they don’t have to derail or consume me. Overeating doesn’t always have to be my default. Overeating does not define me. I’m not pretending this day will not come. There is no guilt in the pleasure of food. In savoring and indulging for a special occasion. I’m okay with that day down the road. But I’m so happy to be on this current road.
A road where I don’t have to decide not to have a snack of nuts because they have too many calories. Or a day where I’m not measuring out portions of salad dressing and chicken. Because I know, that these are not foods I punish myself with. When I’ve had enough I simply stop.
I don’t have to be maddening about this at all, and I love that. I love for food, on most days, to be an after thought. I want to be consumed with my work, my latest project, writing, creating intricate jewelry. I want my days to be filled with walks or jogs. I want them to be filled with sweat from dancing. I am excited to have tasted the freedom, the freedom of getting wrapped up in anything and everything that doesn’t revolve around food.
Taking care of myself, I’ve realized, is not sacrifice. It’s a little gift that I give to myself every single day. The gift that used to be food is now replaced with life.
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