TRIGGER WARNING: Disordered eating

Eating was rarely a fun activity as a kid. Nothing was ever the way I wanted it or in the quantity that I wanted. I’d fuss over being given half a banana or cookie — I wanted to be given the whole thing whether I could finish it or not. I hated being given broken pieces of snacks or food. I always wanted the most perfect pieces, regardless of the fact that the look of the food never changed the taste.

There was a point when meal times became a battle, especially dinner time. As a young child, I had no control over how much food I was being served, but I was expected to finish every bite on my plate anyway — even if I was full. These always turned into arguments with my dad, who grew up in Kenya and hates the idea of any morsel of food getting wasted. He once told me that I couldn’t leave the dinner table until my plate was empty, so I sat there until bedtime, far too stubborn to take another bite.

I also went through a phase of having inexplicable bad reactions to food. It wouldn’t happen everyday or even every week, but it happened enough while I was a kid that it stopped feeling like an out-of-the-ordinary event. And, most times, there was no rhyme or reason to the reactions I was having — these were mostly foods that I ate all the time. But sometimes, some foods just didn’t agree with me. Most times that meant me puking up a meal and others it meant scratching away at the hives on my skin. It very rarely made sense to me or my parents. There was very rarely any correlation between the incidents. I was deemed as having a sensitive stomach and that was that. Most of the time, food was good for me. But sometimes, it would make me feel sick to my stomach.

When I was a young adult, I was prescribed medicine that would wreak havoc on my body. My issues with food became heightened as the very sight and smell of any food would make my stomach turn. In the span of minutes, I’d go from being hungry to being far too nauseated to eat.

This went on for years.

The smell of seafood at a nearby table would force me to leave dinners with friends and family prematurely. Mealtimes were more of a struggle than ever as all my senses were on high alert and suddenly everything just felt unappetizing.

Food stopped being enjoyable altogether. It became something I needed to survive. And I hated that I needed it.

During these years, my appetite became tiny. I could rarely get through even half a meal before my stomach alerted me with big red flashing lights to stop. And, though my appetite became small and I was eating less than I ever had, I still somehow maintained my weight. I didn’t lose any weight at all, just stayed relatively the same if not a few pounds heavier here and there. I blamed myself and my broken body for this.

I eventually stopped taking the medication that made me feel so ill all the time. But it had taken its toll on my psyche.

For years and years I continued to struggle. I continued to resent food — for the fact that I needed it, for the way it made me sick far too often, and the fact that everything just seemed to have been given the “unhealthy” title. Even my favourite fruits and vegetables were being deemed as unhealthy by diet culture. No matter what I ate, I was at a loss. I could not win this game of food that so many others seemed to have figured out so easily.

So, food remained my enemy.

I still ate every day. But every meal caused insurmountable stress and anxiety. What was I going to eat? Would I enjoy the taste of the food? Where would the food come from? Could I make it with my limited cooking skills? Did I have time to cook? How long would it take before I could eat when I was already starving? What was the easiest option? Would that easy option taste good? How long would it be before I could eat?

Having to make any decisions about food outside of a social setting was overwhelming. I would skip meals just so I could avoid it altogether, often waiting until dinner before finally feeding my body. Then, I would just eat whatever was easiest for me to get my hands on because my body felt so starved of energy. I can’t imagine how these behaviours affected by brain, too.

This way of living was so normal to me, I never even questioned it. It wasn’t until a couple of years ago when a family member said with love, “You don’t eat enough.” I knew before then that I had a bad relationship with food, but if it was so clear to others than how bad was the actual issue? And how could I not be eating enough if I’m fat? That very idea was absurd.

But the thing is — I wasn’t eating enough. And the reasons why weren’t even about my weight.

And so, it wasn’t until I was already in my 30s that I realized my food habits were so unhealthy that I’d developed disordered eating long ago.

Overcoming Disordered Eating

The cause of all these bad habits was quite simple — I resented food. I resented it for making me feel sick, I resented it for being “bad” or “unhealthy”, I resented the very fact that I needed food at all. I hated food. I hated that I needed food. And I needed to stop thinking this way.

This realization was all I needed to stop giving food so much power.

I had to stop associating certain words with any kind of food, whether it was a plate of salad or a Big Mac. No food could be “bad.” No food could be “unhealthy.” No food should be considered “crap” or “garbage”.

Food is just food and all food is good food in its own way.

Changing this way of thinking changed my whole life. It only really clicked recently when I realized that I’d been eating three meals a day for months and it had gone totally unnoticed by me. It’s become so normal for me to just eat when I want that it hadn’t even occurred to me how different this behaviour is from the way I approached food even just a few months ago.

Gone are the days of binging on what I would often call “junk food” because there are no longer any negative connotations associated with those foods. If I want to eat them, I do. If I don’t want to eat them, I don’t. But there’s no longer this rebellious behaviour toward food that would make me avoid “junk” food when I craved it, only to binge on chocolate bars, candy and chips when I wanted to engage in emotional eating.

And there’s no more emotional eating at all. Negative feelings don’t make me want to eat “comfort” or “junk” foods anymore because I don’t deny myself of the things my body asks for. My emotions are not tied to food, just like my worth isn’t tied to the food I choose to eat. There is no correlation between the two. Food is just food. It doesn’t mean anything more than that.

Now, sometimes, I even enjoy eating! Sometimes, a bowl of Corn Flakes is so satisfying. Sometimes, the crunch of biting down on a fresh carrot makes the eating process so much more enjoyable. Sometimes, finding scrumptious pairings, like spicy Havarti cheese and honey, speaks to my soul in ways I never imagined.

I’m free.

Not everyday is a good day. Sometimes, especially on my more anxiety-ridden days, I still struggle with feeding myself. In fact, a low appetite is one of my first signs of extreme stress and anxiety. Other days, making decisions about what to eat are a cause for anxiety. I struggle with the idea that making the “right” decisions about food is “too hard.” Some days, my decision fatigue kicks in and targets food first. Other times, I simply have a craving that cannot be satiated in that moment, which causes me to become frustrated.

But, these days are few and far between now. They don’t happen often. And, when they do, I know there is something else taking place in my brain that needs attending to.

I listen to my body now. I listen to what she’s asking for. I give in to her cravings. I allow her to make all the decisions when it comes to food. I submit to my body and what she needs, I no longer submit myself to diet culture.

Here’s the greatest lesson I learned in all of this:

Change the way you think about food and it will change your whole life.

Just eat. Eat well. Nourish your body with whatever it is asking for. Listen to your body and what it has to say. Feed your body. Feed yourself.

If you or anyone you know is suffering from disordered eating or an eating disorder, please reach out for help. Here are some great resources:

Sheena’s Place

National Eating Disorders Association

National Eating Disorder Information Center

Eating Disorder Hope

Canadian Mental Health Association