Sugar makes you fat?

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As a teenage cross-country runner, I believed that if I cut out dietary fat, I would reduce my body fat stores and therefore increase my speed. Besides, many other people around me were demonizing dietary fat, too. In those days, low-fat and no-fat were all the rage. The food industry was more than happy to capitalize on the fad, thus leading to grocery store shelves filled with fat-free products like SnackWell’s cookies, thereby perverting the notion that we were all on the right track to health while simultaneously enabling our disordered eating.

Unlike actual scientific evidence, popular-culture nutrition is fickle. The Atkins diet was hot while I was in nutrition school, but by the time I became a practicing dietitian, going gluten-free was the in thing to do. Hardly any of my patients back then actually knew what gluten was and where it was found, but they erroneously believed they had eliminated it from their diets and boy did they feel better.

Scarce are the people who fear dietary fat now, and these days fewer and fewer people seem wary of gluten, but now sugar is in pop culture’s crosshairs. This past weekend, Joanne played in a charity tennis tournament where she encountered a sponsor who was touting his sugar-free sports drink. “Sometimes people need sugar,” she reminded him, and also threw in that she is a registered dietitian. Offering a rebuttal that lands squarely at the intersection of pseudoscience and weight stigma, he offered, “Sugar makes you fat.”

Regarding the latter, I approached him by myself to see if he would make a similar comment to me, a male in a thinner body, but he did not seem interested in engaging me in conversation. “So, your product is essentially made to rival drinks like VitaminWater Zero?” I asked, but he just walked away. In fairness, he might not have heard me, as many players and staff around us were making quite a bit of noise.

With regards to the factual accuracy of his claim – or lack thereof – no, sugar does not make you fat; that is not how weight regulation works. Body weight is the result of many different factors, including, but not limited to: genetics, environment, medical conditions, and lived experience (for example, history of weight cycling). Eating and physical activity behaviors are of course part of the equation, too, but contrary to popular belief, our weight is largely out of our hands. In fact, a presenter at a conference I attended last year stated that weight is 90% as genetically determined as height.

Besides, Joanne was correct; people do need sugar. Your doctor most likely measures your blood glucose, a kind of sugar, at your annual physicals. If that number reads zero, you are dead. Even if it merely slips below the normal range, you are probably lightheaded, lethargic, and having difficulty concentrating, all symptoms of not having enough circulating sugar to fuel your brain and other organs.

While the rate of the reaction depends on the food in question and one’s individual body chemistry, our systems eventually break all carbohydrates – from sprouted ancient grains to neon gummy bears – into simple sugars. You can get a sense of this by chewing a piece of bread or cracker longer than normal. The sweetness increases the longer you chew because the salivary amylase, an enzyme in your saliva, is already breaking down the long carbohydrate chains into sugar.

Besides, creating a sports drink without sugar is somewhat head scratching. On one hand, I guess it makes perfect sense, just as fat-free cookies back in the 1990s sounded like a great idea, too. Both are cases of smart food manufacturers taking advantage of nutrition fads to satisfy consumer demand and thereby earning themselves quite a profit. Always remember that a food company’s priority is their income, not our health; product prevalence is only a gauge of demand, not the state of nutrition science.

Sports nutrition, in particular, is an area where the fear of sugar is hurting athletes. Carbohydrates and fat are the main sources of fuel during athletics. Even the leanest marathon runner has enough fat stores to provide sufficient amounts during their event, but our carbohydrate stores are much more limited, as we only tuck away small quantities in our liver and muscles in the form of glycogen. If we do not replenish our carbohydrates during exercise, we pay the price, as I can attest from personal experience. As a long-distance cyclist, only twice in my life have I failed to complete rides that I set out to do. The first was when I fell off my bike in Montana and fractured my spine. The other was a few years later when I was temporarily experimenting with a low-carb diet and became so fatigued that I could not make it home.

Much more recently, I went for a 21.2-mile training run in preparation for next month’s Newport marathon and consumed nearly two liters of Gatorade out on the road. Thanks in part to the approximate 112 grams of sugar keeping my energy up, I had a great run and could easily have kept going for another five miles had it been race day.

Back when I was a fat-avoiding teenager, my mom saw the red flags of disordered eating and brought me to a dietitian who explained to me that, contrary to popular belief, dietary fat was fine to consume and that cutting it out would hinder, not improve, my running. Now that I am on the other side of the counseling table, hopefully I can give you similar reassurance about sugar.

You have seen memes and headlines suggesting that sugar is toxic and maybe you have questioned if you have a sugar addiction. Perhaps sugar-free products sound like the path to salvation and virtue. Attempting to cut out sugar might feel like the right next step, especially when so many people around you are going down that road, but I caution you against such pursuits. Remember, soon enough our culture will be demonizing another nutrient, ingredient, or food group. Better to establish and retain a healthy relationship with food and let the fads fall by the wayside.

Are you doing intuitive eating wrong?

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He Said

First, a word about what intuitive eating is. In our culture, we are often taught that we cannot trust ourselves to guide our food choices. Instead, we use apps to track our calories and macronutrients, food models and sections of our hands to dictate portion sizes, and various books and online resources that tell us which foods to eat and which ones to avoid.

Eating based on external factors is problematic and often unnecessary. These behaviors instill and reinforce issues of guilt and deprivation regarding our food choices, and they also give the impression that some algorithm knows better than our bodies how we should be eating, which is typically nonsense.

Our bodies are actually quite good at guiding our eating behaviors – young children, for example, are generally great at knowing when, what, and how much to eat (that is, until we screw them up by teaching them to override these cues). We just have to get back to listening to and trusting our bodies again, and that is what intuitive eating is about.

The way I sometimes explain it to patients is to recall Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and discuss that in nutrition we have a similar structure. At the base, someone needs food. Period. If food security is an issue – and such scarcity can be brought on by external issues like finances or access, or they can be self-imposed, such as by dieting – then not much else matters. At the very top is medical nutrition therapy, which is how we eat in order to manage issues with our health, such as high blood pressure.

The middle layer is comprised of our relationship with food: How do we decide what, when, and how much to eat? People oftentimes want to jump right to the top, which is understandable. After all, if someone is concerned about a medical condition, of course they want to dive right in and talk about how they can help the issue through food. The problem, though, is that if we ignore the middle layer, then we do not have a proper context for incorporating the medical nutrition therapy, which can consequently come across as a diet.

Situations do exist in which jumping right to the top is the best course of action. If someone comes in with Celiac disease, for example, discussing matters like safe and unsafe foods, hidden ingredients, and cross-contamination will be high on our to-do list. The difference between this kind of scenario and most others is that with Celiac disease, the issue is more black and white: unsafe foods for this person really do exist and the patient must completely abstain from them. The same could be said for someone who comes in with a life-threatening food allergy.

In contrast, most nutrition-related conditions, including high cholesterol, high blood pressure, and blood sugar concerns, exist in a gray area. We have guidelines, but not rules, so the patient is going to have to make food decisions every single time they eat. Do they really want to be relying on some app, meal plan, or an oversimplified list of “good” and “bad” foods to tell them what to eat for the rest of their lives, or do they want to develop a healthier relationship with food that will enable them to incorporate the medical nutrition therapy in a way that still honors their hunger/fullness cues and cravings? That is why we focus on intuitive eating as a precursor to medical nutrition therapy.

With all that said, the most common way I find that people misuse intuitive eating is the belief that if they eat when they are hungry, stop when they are full, and eat the foods that their bodies seem to be asking for, they will automatically lose weight. This belief is understandable; after all, the idea of energy balance (calories in versus calories out) is so pervasive in our society that people just assume that if they reduce how much they eat, then of course they will lose weight.

In reality, while energy balance is certainly true from a thermodynamic point of view, our bodies are complex open systems, and the math is not as straightforward as our apps would have us believe. If someone consumes a 100-calorie slice of bread, the number of calories he actually absorbs from it will depend on factors such as his genetics and his gut microbiome, whereas someone else could eat that same slice of bread and absorb a different amount of calories. Furthermore, calories consumed affect our calories expended (Think of someone whose metabolism slows as a result of restriction.), so the two sides of energy balance are not as independent as many believe.

Despite my warnings, some patients still believe that if they just learn to eat intuitively, they will lose weight. Thus, they treat intuitive eating as a diet, which is a setup for failure. Time and time again, I have seen such people develop some basic intuitive eating skills early on, but their progress stalls as soon as their weight loss does. Someone might be able to keep one foot in the weight loss and intuitive eating worlds for a short while, but quickly this straddling leads to stumbling.

In order to extensively rediscover our intuitive eating skills, we absolutely must ditch any expectations regarding physical changes, such as weight or body composition, that our bodies will make as a consequence of our pursuits. In other words, if you are using intuitive eating to lose weight, then really you are just dieting, and the results are probably going to be as dismal as they would be with any other weight loss pursuit.

 

She Said

As many of you know, a lot of the work that Jonah and I do with our clients is around helping them become intuitive eaters. While on the surface the concept of intuitive eating seems quite simple – eat what you are hungry for in the amount that feels comfortable and satiating to your body – there are a number of complicating factors that can get in the way of an individual being able to do this. In some cases, even though an individual might truly want to be an intuitive eater, they might not really be able to do so. The clearest example of this is when I am working with patients struggling with eating disorders (ED).

When an individual engages in eating disorder behaviors, such as restriction, bingeing, purging, or overexercise, oftentimes this will take a toll on their digestive system and their ability to distinguish hunger and fullness cues. As such, I have heard from many patients that they either never feel hungry or never feel full (or in some cases, they cannot even describe what hunger/fullness feels like to them). Since being an intuitive eater depends on the individual being able to not only recognize their hunger and fullness cues but also be able to attend to these cues appropriately, those individuals with ED can find it to be nearly impossible to eat intuitively.

Patients who come to see me and are early on in their recovery process will often bring in with them a meal plan they have been following. In general, I am not usually a fan of meal plans, as I discuss here, but in some cases, they are necessary to help individuals with EDs reestablish their hunger and fullness cues. Making sure that the body is receiving 3 meals and a few snacks throughout the day helps to undo some of the damage that the ED has done to these cues. The body comes to expect that it will be fed at regular intervals; therefore, you will feel hungry at certain times. Feeling hungry periodically is a normal body process, a survival mechanism that tells you when your energy stores are low and your body needs fuel. When a patient with an ED goes long periods of time without eating or not eating enough, the body actually habituates to its hunger signals, and eventually the individual cannot even recognize or feel hunger. Meal plans are an essential step (for some) to get their body back into a natural rhythm of fueling their body when they are hungry.

Sometimes when I have been working for a short while with a patient struggling with ED, they will express the desire to try eating intuitively. While helping my patients become intuitive eaters is the ultimate goal in my work, it is not something I often dive into headfirst with my ED patients. On a number of occasions, I have had individuals try to eat intuitively too soon in their recovery process, and they will find themselves either not eating enough (as they still do not have accurate hunger cues) or eating more than their body is asking for due to a fear of getting hungry.

I like to encourage these patients to try out an approach that is halfway between meal plan and intuitive eating. To achieve this, I will use a “modified” intuitive eating meal plan as a stepping stone to intuitive eating. The plan typically involves having the patient eat every 3-4 hours (during waking hours, of course!) and making sure that they have carbohydrate, protein, fat, and either a fruit or vegetable at each meal. Instead of specifying that the patient needs to have X number of carbohydrate exchanges, I give more of a range (e.g., “have 2-4 carbohydrate exchanges at breakfast”) as this gives the patient some flexibility to eat more if they are hungry for it or eat a bit less if they are not. In a way, it is giving the patient some intrinsic choice around their food while still giving them the structure that their body needs. Once the patient has mastered this “in-between” meal plan for a substantial period of time, we would discuss trying to work on eating more intuitively.

In the end, the goal is to help my patients learn to trust their body’s innate wisdom – that it will tell them when they are hungry, what they are hungry for, and how much is enough to satisfy them. As long as the individual does not jump into intuitive eating too quickly (i.e., before they are ready), they will be well on their way to developing a healthier relationship with food and their body.

“Too Fat” vs. “Too Thin”

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Those of us who have had an eating disorder know firsthand that while recovery is possible, the road can sure be difficult. The eating disorder voice is powerful and can make people do and say things they otherwise would not express if their bodies and minds were in healthier places. A woman who is struggling mightily to recover from anorexia nervosa posted on a message board criticism of her treatment team for saying that being “too thin” is problematic while being “too fat” is okay. Does she have a point?

The treatments for someone who is “too thin” versus “too fat” are actually more similar than some people realize. In both cases, the etiology of the person’s size matters as well as whether or not the origin is pathological.

For example, consider two people, each of whom is “too fat.” One person has a healthy relationship with food and physical activity, no significant medical or psychological issues, has always been “too fat,” and comes from a family of people who are of similar builds. Meanwhile, the other person is “too fat” due to binge eating disorder. The former receives no treatment while the latter receives treatment for his eating disorder, not his body size.

Now consider another example of two people who are both “too thin.” One person has a healthy relationship with food and physical activity, no significant medical or psychological issues, has always been “too thin,” and comes from a family of people who are of similar builds. Meanwhile, the other person is “too thin” due to anorexia nervosa. The former receives no treatment while the latter receives treatment for his eating disorder, not his body size.

[Note: Anyone of any size can have an eating disorder, including some “too thin” people who experience binge eating and some “too fat” people who restrict. In reality, we never completely know what struggles someone might have just by looking at them.]

In both cases, whether one is “too fat” or “too thin,” any treatment is targeted at the underlying pathology, if one is present, not at the body size itself. However, for the person who is “too fat” due to binge eating disorder, we let the person’s weight take care of itself as they progress through treatment, as opposed to focusing on the weight. He may or may not lose weight as his disorder subsides, but altering his body weight is not the goal for two reasons:

(1) While being “too fat” is associated with an increased risk of medical woes, causal relationships have not been established, contrary to popular belief. In chapter six of Health at Every Size, Dr. Linda Bacon does an excellent job of explaining the correlations between body weight and the conditions for which weight is often blamed.

(2) While our bodies are relatively adept at gaining weight, they are resistant to long-term weight loss. In other words, interventions aimed at lowering body weight are most likely to result in ultimate weight gain, so in that sense even if the patient’s weight itself is the problem, he is only likely to exacerbate the condition by trying to lose weight.

In contrast, for the person who is “too thin” due to anorexia nervosa, weight restoration is an important part of his recovery. When someone becomes unnaturally thin due to restriction, overexercise, or other disordered behaviors, the body sheds not just fat mass, but also bone structure and tissue from organs, including the brain.

Dr. Ovidio Bermudez, Medical Director and Chief Medical Officer at the Eating Recovery Center, a behavioral hospital for children and adolescents, gave a talk at the 2014 Hynes Recovery Services conference in which he explained, “As a young girl starves herself, or a young man starves himself, and they knock off their sex steroid production, one of the important aspects of that, one of the downstream consequences of that, is that they may also be unintentionally impacting very important aspects of brain development, including neuronal growth.”

When discussing recovery, Dr. Bermudez noted that brain atrophy can be documented just as we can document bone demineralization, and then he continued, “If you stay underweight, your brain size does not recover. So you have to really normalize your weight in order for your brain size to recover.”

Dr. Kim Dennis, former Medical Director at Timberline Knolls Residential Treatment Center and current Medical Director at SunCloud Health, presented at the same conference and explained further, “When a patient with anorexia also says they’re depressed or a parent says they’re depressed, many times that’s not depression. That’s simply what looks like a mood disorder, but it’s based on the fact that their frontal lobes are shrunk, they can’t display affect, they have lower levels of neurotransmitters in their brain, and the cure to that, the treatment to that, is not necessarily Prozac, but it’s food and refeeding.

“Many times patients with anorexia really, really value their brains, and a lot of times you’ll tell someone with anorexia, ‘You’re not thinking straight because you’ve lost neurons. Your brain looks more like a 60-year-old with early dementia than an 18-year-old.’ And they’ll say, ‘I know a lot of anorexia patients might look that way but my brain doesn’t.'”

She then referred to a slide showing a brain with reduced volume due to restriction side by side with a healthy brain. “It’s important for us [clinicians] to realize when we’re working with a malnourished, underweight patient that there’s no amount of CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) or DBT (dialectical behavioral therapy) or trauma work that’s really going to be effective unless that person’s brain is regrown first. So, first and foremost, food is medicine.”

Left: Normal control. Right: Patient with anorexia nervosa. (Image courtesy of Dr. Kim Dennis and SunCloud Health.)

Sometimes patients ask me to differentiate how my role, as a dietitian, differs from the roles played by other practitioners on their treatment team, namely their therapist. Oftentimes, I explain that eating disorders are mental illnesses that get played out through food. My role is to provide nutritional support during the early stages of recovery and then to help someone form a new and healthier relationship with food as the eating disorder recedes, but the bulk of the recovery happens in the therapist’s office.

For the reasons that Dr. Bermudez and Dr. Dennis explained, the brain cannot rebuild without weight restoration, and without an appropriately functioning brain, therapy – and therefore eating disorder recovery – becomes that much more of an uphill battle.

Real Reality

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Some of you may or may not know, but I am a reality TV fan. I know, I know, it definitely isn’t doing anything for my IQ points, but watching these shows is one of my favorite ways to unwind and relax. The ridiculous scenarios and personalities are entertaining and help me suspend my own reality for 52 minutes. Now, while I am not a fan of all reality TV, I have been known to watch some of the “Real Housewives” shows on Bravo, and lately, I have been watching episodes of the “Real Housewives of New York City” and the “Real Housewives of Orange County” (RHOC).

This season of RHOC, one of the storylines is about how Shannon, one of the housewives, has gained weight since the last season of the show. Shannon cries to the camera about how ashamed she is of her body, how “disgusted” she is with herself, and how she cannot believe that she has let herself go. Shannon attributes her weight gain to eating to cope with numerous stressors in her life. In addition to this, the camera shows her family (her husband and daughters) making fun of her weight and urging her to eat less.  Some of the other housewife cast-mates also make snarky comments about Shannon’s weight gain to the camera, saying how she should only be eating steamed fish and vegetables.

On last night’s episode, Shannon goes to see her chiropractor/health guru to help her get her body back to where it was previously. From the get-go, this charlatan, er, um, health guru, is brutal to Shannon about her weight. Without missing a beat, he asks her to step on the scale and berates her when the numbers show that not only has she has gained a significant amount of weight, her body fat percentage is “dangerously high.” He warns her that these numbers are dreadful and that she has nothing to look forward to other than cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and an early death. If this wasn’t bad enough, he then insists that he take photos of Shannon in just a sports bra and capris from all angles to show her how much weight she has gained. With every turn, you can hear this guy mutter “ugh” when Shannon turns for each pose, clearly vocalizing his disgust. And, of course, Shannon ends up in tears, not because she is upset with the chiropractor, but because she is angry with herself for her weight gain.

I found myself literally screaming at the television screen during this above scene – I was horrified and sickened by it. If this is not one of the most blatant examples of fat shaming that I have ever seen, I don’t know what is. This “health guru” told Shannon that she is less than human for having gained weight, that if she doesn’t “shape up,” she will end up dead before the end of the week, leaving her in tears. And then he made sure she knew how “gross” and “unappealing” she looked while taking her “before photos.”

I think the thing that most upset me about this scene was how it portrays an actual reality for many people living in larger bodies and how they are treated by “health professionals.” I can’t tell you how many of my patients who are “overweight” or “obese” have been subjected to ridicule and abuse from their providers. Several of my patients have been denied fertility treatment until they lose weight, while others have been told that even though their labs and vitals are perfectly normal, their weight will “catch up” with them and lead them to inevitably develop diabetes or heart disease. Even though there is a mountain of evidence that supports Health at Every Size®, that behaviors are more important in determining health outcomes than the number on the scale, doctors, nurses, chiropractors and the like still believe in the weight-centered paradigm and beat their patients over the head with it. Not surprisingly, these fat shaming instances make people of size reluctant to get medical treatment, and in turn can result in even worse health outcomes. Fat shaming is never okay and when perpetrated by health professionals, it’s honestly a form of malpractice.

In any case, after watching the scene with Shannon and her “health guru,” I had had enough. I am no longer a RHOC watcher and I hope that eventually the show will catch on that this storyline is doing so much more damage than good. It is teaching millions of women that they should be ashamed of their bodies if they gain weight, that weight and health are synonymous, and plays into the “obesity epidemic” rhetoric we have been subjected to for the past two decades. Not only that, it could inspire eating disorders in many of its viewers as they will learn that the number on the scale is the most important thing and eating only steamed fish and vegetables is acceptable behavior. Please, Bravo, get your heads out of your asses. This reality show is too real in the worst possible way.

Veganism

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Veganism has been gaining some traction in the diet world lately. While it sounds harmless enough and even “saintly” to forgo meat, chicken, fish, eggs, dairy, honey, gelatin and the like, I have found that the client’s motives behind going vegan are quite important to figure out when meeting with them initially, as sometimes they can indicate some disordered eating.

For some people, the draw of veganism is purely moral – they do not feel right about taking life (or products) from any animal. In other cases, environmental concerns top the list of reasons why someone might choose a meatless diet because meat production has been found to contribute to pollution via fossil fuel usage, water and land consumption, animal methane, and waste. And of course, there are those who really do not enjoy the taste or texture of meat/fish/poultry/pork and their products. In all of these examples, the individual is making food decisions based on personal preference. Everyone has the autonomy to choose what foods to feed themselves, as that is part of being a human – we can choose what we eat.

What concerns me the most about veganism is the zeal with which some vegans talk about their diet. I don’t want to generalize to the entire vegan community because I know many vegans who do not behave this way, but I have been struck by how many celebrities, actors/actresses, “health experts,” and social media personalities have seemed to paint veganism as the only moral and healthful way to eat and that those who are not vegan are less than/going to an early grave/behaving immorally or selfishly, etc. This is very problematic for me because I believe that shaming others about their food choices is detrimental to their health mentally, psychologically, and physically – not to mention that not everyone can afford to follow a vegan diet due to socioeconomic status, the availability of fresh produce, and other factors.

Another concern I have with veganism is how it can sometimes indicate an underlying eating disorder (ED). Many of my patients with EDs have tried to eliminate whole groups of food from their diets, and for some of them, going vegan is just another variation on that theme. Of course, it is often difficult to suss out what is really going on when someone goes vegan, but if it coincides with increased preoccupation with weight, rigidity or secrecy around food or eating, and other signs of trouble, it is worth taking note of it.

Going vegan is not for everyone. About a year ago, I was working with a young woman who identified as a vegan. She said that it felt like such a part of her identity that the alternative (i.e., eating animals or animal products) seemed impossible and undesirable. This young woman was part of the vegan community, and she strongly identified with the morals and values of this group. For her, it was as much a lifestyle as it was a way of eating. At the same time, however, she complained of physical symptoms, including lack of energy, dizziness, weakness, difficulty concentrating, and weakened immune system, and she wondered if perhaps her vegan diet wasn’t working for her body. After much discussion in my office (Mind you, I did not encourage her to eat meat, just to weigh the pros and cons.), the patient decided to try to reintroduce meat into her diet to see if it made a difference in her physical symptoms. Over the course of a few weeks, she began to slowly add in some animal products and found herself feeling much more energized, clearer, and healthier overall. Of course, there might have been a placebo effect at play here, and we can’t be sure that simply adding back in some meat/animal products “cured” her, but the difference was startling. Despite this, the patient felt very conflicted about giving up veganism because it would mean losing a huge part of her identity. In the end, she decided to continue to eat meat occasionally, essentially becoming a “flexitarian” – someone who sometimes chooses to go meatless but other times will eat meat. This compromise seemed to work best for her physiology.

I believe that anyone considering becoming vegan needs to really weigh the pros and cons of this decision. Why are you going vegan? Is it because you feel it is morally wrong to eat animals and their products or that it is harmful to our environment? Do you feel like your body works/feels better eating this way? Or are you using veganism as a way to further limit your diet, restrict, and try to manipulate your weight? Are you able to make sure you are getting enough protein, iron, vitamin B12, and calcium (nutrients that are more difficult to get through a vegan diet)? Is this way of eating sustainable for you or more of a hardship? In the end, everyone has the right to decide what and how they eat. But it is always a good idea to consider the factors that go into these decisions.

He Said, She Said: Menu Calorie Counts

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He Said

Nutrition information has its upsides, but the data are only as useful as their interpretation. Context and framework matter; without a solid foundation, food labels and menu calorie counts can do more harm than good.

Maslow’s hierarchy of needs suggests that we, as humans, have basic needs that must be met before we can fulfill more advanced needs. Nutrition has a similar structure. At the base, someone has to have food – period. If food security is an issue, whether it is due to financial limitations, self-imposed restriction, or any other factors, then not much else matters. At the structure’s very top rests the hard science of nutrition as it relates to whatever medical conditions we may have; this is where we might talk about grams, calories, or various micronutrients. In between are issues of eating behavior that often go overlooked and yet are critical to address. Many people want to jump right to the top, but the danger in doing so is that without a solid middle, the structure is likely to fall apart.

Nutrition labels on packaged food can be helpful to someone with a healthy relationship with food and their body, but in the hands of an individual who does not have the solid middle that I previously discussed, the information can be misinterpreted, maybe reinforce a good/bad food dichotomy, and lead to or exacerbate issues like weight cycling and disordered eating.

In grocery stores, at least, we have a certain level of privacy and ambiguity that may mitigate the damage. Few shoppers probably recognize the yogurt in your cart as being higher in calories than its counterparts, and ultimately neither your fellow shoppers nor the cashier know whether that ice cream you are buying is for your kid’s birthday party or for yourself. Such uncertainties can help comfort people who fear judgment from the people around them.

Calorie counts on restaurant menus present a more complex problem. We place our orders in front of friends, family, co-workers, acquaintances, waitstaff, and fellow patrons who are primed for judgment because they – thanks to the menu – know how many calories you have elected to order for yourself.

Certainly, not everyone judges, and some of us are coated with more Teflon than others, but for many people, even the mere fear that the person across the table may be thinking “No wonder you are so fat/skinny/slow/etc.” can be enough to cause problems. The middle layer of the nutrition hierarchy involves making food decisions based on internal cues rather than external constructs. Issues of guilt, virtue, judgment, praise, and fear cloud the picture and make the establishment of this kind of relationship with food that much more difficult to attain.

Of course, restaurant nutrition information can be helpful sometimes – for example, I remember looking at the Bertucci’s website with a patient of mine in search of menu items that would mesh with his sodium restriction – but it can be provided in ways that are cognizant of potential harm. My suggestion: Post nutrition information online, as many chain restaurants already do, and have it available on site per customer request, but leave it off the menus.

 

She Said

When Jonah and I went to Bertucci’s Italian Restaurant the other night, we both realized that the menu had been redesigned (Clearly, we are regulars at Bertucci’s!). In addition to new entrees and different graphics, I was dismayed to see calorie counts prominently displayed above each and every menu item. I remember when the law was passed requiring all chain restaurants to publish their calorie information on their menus, but for some reason I had forgotten about it. (I feel like the law was passed a few years ago and just now is being implemented.) In any case, it was jarring for me to see this information, and it also made me quite concerned for my patients with eating disorders (ED).

Most, if not all, of my clients with EDs have engaged in some sort of calorie counting. Whether tallying up carbs, “macros,” or points, these patients have misused the nutrition information available to them in order to help them engage in ED behaviors. Much of my work with these individuals is around helping them to move away from the counting because it is completely antithetical to intuitive eating.

As Jonah and I have discussed before, intuitive eating is the practice of using one’s internal cues rather than depending on external factors to make food decisions. That means that someone who is an intuitive eater will (most of the time) eat when they are physically hungry and eat what they are hungry for in an amount that is satisfying. It’s about trusting your body to tell you what it needs and then honoring your body’s needs by fulfilling them.

Most of my patients with ED struggle with the idea of intuitive eating because it flies in the face of what their ED is telling them – food is to be carefully monitored and planned, certain foods are bad for you and should be off-limits, you can’t trust your hunger cues, etc. Many of these patients use calorie counting as a way to gain some control, to feel like they know exactly what they are putting in their bodies. One of my patients who is doing quite well in her ED treatment says that she still can’t shake the calorie counting habit, and she notices that this behavior ramps up when she is anxious, stressed, or overly hungry. One could say that calorie counting is a coping mechanism for many people because it helps to alleviate unpleasant feelings by giving them something concrete to focus on.

In any case, I often encourage my patients to ignore nutrition labels as it can trigger their ED. And in many cases, it is possible to (mostly) avoid this information – by purchasing unpackaged foods, buying prepared food from smaller restaurants or stores, etc. However, with this legislation, many more people will be exposed to calorie information at restaurants that they have gone to for years, and it is inescapable. I know that much of the nutrition information for chain restaurants has been available online for years and that anyone could just look up the calories on the restaurant’s website, but that at least takes a bit of effort. If someone really does not want to see this information, they will avoid it, but printing it directly on the menu makes that nearly impossible (short of never visiting the particular restaurant again).

In my opinion, I think that calorie information should be made available if the customer requests it. Everyone has the right to know what they are putting into their body. But it would be great if restaurants could also provide menus without the calorie information in order to prevent triggering individuals with ED or a history of disordered eating. It could make a number of people feel safer in these establishments, and that would make a big difference in many people’s lives.

Politics

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Shortly after we published our March e-newsletter, I received an automated notification informing me that one of our readers had unsubscribed. His given reason: “your political bias – no thanks.”

The only overt political statement we made is that we had followed through on our promise to donate all of the co-pays we collected between Thanksgiving and New Year’s to the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC), an organization that fights hate, teaches tolerance, and seeks justice. Huh, I wonder which of those missions our reader objects to the most?

Anyway, at first I felt bad, as if the loss of a reader indicated a shortcoming on my part. Maybe I had crossed a line of some sort by bringing politics into our work.

On the other hand, fuck that. Acknowledging that nutrition is political and declaring what we stand for is important for our practice’s identity.

Nutrition is science, and science, as recent times have reminded us, is political. A couple of weeks ago, I participated in the Boston March for Science. Take a moment to steep in the ridiculousness that is having to stage a protest in hopes that our current leaders will incorporate evidence into their proposed policies.

Nutrition is healthcare, and healthcare, as Republican efforts to destroy Obamacare have reminded us, is political. Today, the House voted for the American Health Care Act, which – if enacted – will result in the loss of health insurance for millions of people and hasten death for many of our fellow citizens. The American Medical Association has condemned the Act, while I remember would-be patients who were unable to receive treatment because their insurance refused to pay. I think to myself: This is only going to get worse.

Nutrition is cultural, and our culture, as we have known for years, is political. Regardless of her intentions, Michelle Obama’s support for the “war on obesity” made our societal focus on weight that much more glaring. Our current, umm, leader’s objectification of women and admissions of sexual assault, for which millions of voters inexcusably gave him a free pass, are exacerbating matters. In an effort to flee weight stigma and oppression, people run towards a diet culture that damages relationships with food, increases eating disorder risk, and – ironically – promotes weight gain and worsened health.

Politics are not just about which bubbles each of us fill in on election day. Our positions reflect how we move about the world and what we want not just for ourselves, but for our friends, neighbors, strangers, the generations that will come after us, and of course our patients.

Nutrition is political, and our stances regarding the latter are intertwined with how we approach our work. We believe that everybody – regardless of their gender, size, weight, religion, country of origin, wealth, lifestyle behaviors, ethnicity, language, mobility, or sexuality – is deserving of respect, informed consent, and affordable access to evidence-based healthcare as a matter of human rights.

Wins and Losses: Old Habits Die Hard

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The following piece was written by one of Jonah’s patients who wishes to only be identified as a 36-year-old male.

Befitting the New Year, you would think I’d be writing about my resolutions for 2017, but I have a win from this past Thanksgiving that I’d like to share.

A little about me

I was a dancer as part of a performing arts group, and I traveled throughout the world dancing and performing in various venues — some as big as football stadiums and others as intimate as a small conference room. I was very fortunate to have this experience growing up (I began performing at the age of 16 and “retired” at the age of 26.) and feel grateful to have the talent and courage to pursue this sort of lifestyle. I’ve been to almost every U.S. state (excluding Alaska and the Dakotas) as well as various cities around the world — Paris, Amsterdam, Taiwan, Yokohama, Toronto, etc. I loved seeing all the different cities and how different cultures interacted within themselves, with other cultures, and even with their surroundings.

As you can probably imagine, traveling the world was glorious, but it was not easy by any means. I lived out of a suitcase for 6 months at a time; missing family events while I was on tour was the norm; and our sense of “home” was based on how long we would be staying in Anytown, USA. We were also at the beck and call of the directors and the schedules they created. Rehearsals every day, 7 days a week from 9am to 6pm (or some days even later if we didn’t have a show); additional performances that really strained every minute for “ME” time; and when and what to eat (and usually how much to eat) were always decided for us. It’s not as bad as I just made it seem. Like I said, it was quite glorious. It was nice to not think about the outside world — everyday tasks were managed for me. It really allowed me to focus on why I was there: to be the best performer I could be.

Perfection is attainable…right?

Dancing, much like any other sport, is really tough on the mind, body, and spirit. To be the best, you really have to work hard and be committed to the craft (not to mention have good genes and be somewhat of a natural talent). After all, the producers don’t give solos to the 2nd-best dancer. Dancing is also very specific — there is only one correct way to stand in first position. Any slight variation thereof is, well, simply incorrect. One might perfect their skills in other sports (i.e., one might work hard enough to make 9 out of 10 free throws), but in dance, there is always something that can be improved. So the idea of dancing “perfectly” does not exist. Yet, to be accomplished in dance, you constantly strive for this perfection. The struggle to jump higher is real. Turn faster. Turn faster! TURN FASTER! Even though these pressures mainly came from within myself, I became so worried (and obsessed) about being the best that nothing I did was ever good enough. Somehow, I thought I could achieve something better than perfection.

This battle bled into all aspects of my life: from personal relationships and self-confidence to body image and diets. Especially the latter. I distinctly remember a moment during the high point of my career. We were in dress rehearsal, putting together the finishing touches before our big opening night. At this point, we were all dancing 7 days a week for 6 to 7 hours per day. I was in peak fitness. I also wasn’t eating much because there was a portion of the performance where the men had to perform shirtless, and well, I was self-conscience about that since I wanted to look perfect. I mustn’t have weighed more than 130 pounds (I’m 5’10”.). My director approached me and suggested I watch my diet for the next few days because I would be standing next to some of the other men. She glanced over at the skinniest performer. She didn’t need to say the words, “and you are bigger than he is,” as the look was enough for me to really think about what I was doing and, more importantly, why I was doing it.

That moment was so pivotal to my career as a dancer. For me, dancing was like having a relationship with a double-edged sword. I loved to dance and was so passionate to share that with the world. I was enamored by the craft, while being pricked by both ends, as dancing created an environment that allowed me to neglect healthy eating and nutrition choices. I have trouble dealing with and embracing my own body image (The constant critiques towards a dancer are never-ending.); I struggle with the concept of working out to live a healthy life versus exercising to burn calories/lose weight; and even more, I have a hard time figuring out how to tune in to my body to find what I want to eat, when to eat it, and, more importantly, when to stop eating because I’ve reached an acceptable level of fullness.

Now (over 15 years later), my life is completely different. I’m not dancing anymore, so there’s that. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to dance into retirement, so I decided to pursue a different career and won’t bore you with those details now…just know that my life as a world traveler is much less exciting. What is exciting though is that I’m the leader of my own ship. I am in control of how my story goes, and I’ve come to love this freedom in most aspects of my life.

Setting expectations

Years following, I had the hardest time staying “in shape” — I would try any sport that would help me keep the pounds off: yoga, running, triathlons, obstacle course races. And even though all the training helped to maintain my body shape, I was still unhappy with the results I was experiencing. After talking to my sister-in-law about her nutritionist, I thought I’d give it a shot.

You should’ve seen me in my first session with Jonah — looking back now, I think it was quite comical — I came into the office, strong and confident, ready to establish expectations for our future work. I said, “Listen, you can put me on any kind of diet, but I won’t give up my sweets. I love them too much!” I didn’t realize I had the experience all wrong — it wasn’t about the sweets. I would then be educated about the different theories of nutrition, their applications, and the work I had ahead of me.

During our sessions, we would work on binge eating, recognizing fullness, honoring my hunger, and celebrating my relationship with food. We talked about embracing my body image and what that meant for me. We formalized strategies for upcoming occasions where my old habits would challenge my new relationship with food. Most importantly, we didn’t give up my sweets!

So…about that win!

As I mentioned earlier, I have trouble accepting my level of fullness. I went from being told what to eat to complete eating freedom, so you can imagine the binge eating every Thanksgiving, year after year, leaving the dinner table filled to the brim with stuffing, cranberry sauce, and mashed potatoes. You name it, I would eat it — if I didn’t really like the taste — or even if I was already full — or because there was something about missing out on the taste that I couldn’t let go — or because I didn’t want to upset the host by not eating the food they’d so lovingly prepared for us that day.

I wanted this Thanksgiving to be different from previous years, however. This year, I came to dinner with a plan on how I was going to eat during this meal, and I was determined to stick to it! (Spoiler alert: I did!)

Plan of attack

Through my work with Jonah, we were able to formulate a plan, and it was simple (in theory). I was going to take an inventory of the available foods during our Thanksgiving feast. As I walked around, I recognized foods that were appealing to me — I really tried to tune in to my intuitive eating skills — and what foods I could skip out on. I say “in theory” because by doing inventory, I also had to accept the foods that were appealing and give myself permission to eat those foods without guilt (For the record, I love bread and butter…lots and lots of butter.).

The result: I don’t really like all three varieties of stuffing, I don’t need to eat them all, and no one was going to heckle me about trying them all. Most everyone else was too busy serving themselves anyway. This quick walk-through allowed me to really honor and respect my hunger. It gave me the opportunity to carefully select the foods I was so excited to eat — it was Thanksgiving after all.

For the first time I can remember, I left Thanksgiving dinner feeling comfortable in my own skin (and clothes) by not overeating. I am still on the high from this win, and it helps give me confidence going in to whatever meal comes next. It might not be the most exciting win, nor does it mean I am over battling my other eating issues. But it is a “W” in my column.

Don’t get me wrong

I have good days and bad days. There are days where I eat multiple times throughout the day without ever consulting my intuitive eater. There are times when I feel like I really need to get to the gym to burn off that cookie I had earlier. Even though my day-to-day’s nutrition success fluctuates, what I’ve realized is that it’s a work in progress, and I won’t deny myself (and you shouldn’t either) the ticks in the “W” column (the everyday wins). I’ve earned that “W” and proudly display it on my sleeve (Ok, not literally. I am writing this anonymously, so if I wore a “W” on my sleeve, it might give me away.). You should too. No matter how big or small.

Sh*t Tennis Ladies Say

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As some of you might know, I am an avid tennis player. After a very long hiatus (like 25 years long), I started playing competitive tennis in several different leagues three years ago. It has been so wonderful in so many ways – I love that I get to play a sport that is not only physically enjoyable, but is also a fabulous social network as well. My tennis teammates are some of my closest friends and I adore them.

That’s why sometimes it feels particularly upsetting when many of them speak in anti-fat, pro-diet, disordered ways about food, weight and body shape. All of these women are intelligent, well-spoken, kind-hearted people. All of these women are liberal, open-minded and generous. And nearly all of these women have either made negative comments about their own bodies, commented on others’ bodies, and have engaged in any number of diets/disordered eating patterns. It is truly mind-boggling. I have decided to write about a few of these comments partly as a way to vent, but I also feel like they can be valuable learning lessons for our readers.

Tennis friend: “Oh my goodness, did you see X on the tennis court today? She has lost/gained a ton of weight– doesn’t she look great/terrible?!”

Why these types of statements are problematic: 1) We have very limited control over our weight – our genetics are the key determinant of our body size. And while we can lose weight in the short-term, nearly 95% of dieters regain the weight, with many of them gaining even more weight than they had lost; 2) There could be a number of explanations for someone’s weight loss/gain – are they going through chemotherapy for cancer treatment? Did they recently have a traumatic life event that significantly changed their appetite? Are they on a medication that is causing them to bloat/lose their appetite? 3) These types of comments reinforce the idea that the most important thing about a woman is her physique. We are so much more than our bodies!

Ways that I choose to respond to comments like these:

“I really prefer not to talk about others’ weight – every body is different and unique.”

“Commenting on others bodies makes me uncomfortable – you really never know what someone is going through. She could have a medical condition we are unaware of.”

“Hey, how about we focus on her tennis game rather than her body shape/size?”

Tennis friend: “I’m so hungry.”

Me: “Oh, I have a granola bar in my bag – would you like it?”

Tennis friend: “Oh, no. I’m dieting.”

Why this is problematic: As Jonah and I have written about too many times to count, diets don’t work long term. When we restrict our intake and actively disregard our bodies’ hunger cues, our body goes into starvation mode. This results in a slowing of metabolism, decrease in energy, and heightened awareness and obsession with food. When you feel hungry, that is your body’s way of telling you it needs fuel. It is not a weakness. It is a necessity, like breathing air and drinking water. Not only that, once someone stops dieting (because the inherent nature of dieting is temporary), that person will likely overeat on high-fat/high-carb foods (which are your body’s preferred macronutrients in times of scarcity), and with their slowed metabolism, the weight will pile back on. Unfortunately, many women engage in this yo-yo dieting, which a number of studies have shown to be more damaging to one’s health than just maintaining a higher weight.

Ways I choose to respond to situations like this one:

“Being hungry is your body’s way of telling you it needs food. I guarantee you will feel so much better if you a eat something. I also bet you would have so much more energy to play tennis!”

“It sounds like you have been on quite a few diets over the past year. I know it’s hard to believe, but it is possible to eat in a non-restrictive way and be healthy.”

“Did you see Serena’s last tennis match? She was eating a snack on the changeover. I think she’s onto something!”

Tennis friend: “My knees/ankles/hips are killing me. If I could just lose these 20 lbs, I know that would fix the problem.”

Why this is problematic: As I wrote about several months ago, focusing on weight loss to cure physical ailments is not the right approach. Yes, biomechanically speaking, weighing less might help one’s knee pain resolve, but there is no guarantee of that. Not to mention, many people of all shapes and sizes have knee/ankle/hip pain (even thin people!). As we age, we tend to lose cartilage, and this often leads to joint pain. Sorry folks, but getting old is unavoidable! There are many ways to help joint pain that don’t involve weight loss (such as quad strengthening exercises for knee issues, medicine, wearable braces). And finally, even if someone were to lose weight to help their knee/ankle/hip pain, it is still highly unlikely they will be able to keep off that weight for any significant period of time.

Ways that I choose to respond to comments like these:

“You know, there are plenty of other strategies to use that could help your ankle pain. I would recommend talking with your doctor.”

“When I had knee pain, I started seeing a physical therapist who gave me a bunch of exercises to try to strengthen my quads – would you like his/her contact info?”

“While weight loss might initially help, it’s nearly impossible to keep off the weight, and it is likely that you will end up gaining more weight in the long run. Maybe you could find some other strategies to deal with the pain?”

At the end of the day, I really do understand why so many of these women make comments like the ones I shared above. And I also know that these comments are not just limited to the suburban female tennis playing community. We as a society have been brainwashed by the media, our doctors, our family and friends to think that it is right and normal to comment on other people’s bodies, to believe that what we choose to eat (or not eat) makes us virtuous or sinful, and to view weight loss as something that is easily achieved and maintained (all of these things being plainly false).  I just wish that we could change the conversation to one about things that really matter, like the state of the world, what we are passionate about, how our families are doing, etc.  Focusing on our bodies and what we put in them is terribly myopic. How much we could achieve if we just changed our focus.

The Struggle Is Real

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The following is a guest column by one of Joanne’s patients, Ashley, a 28-year-old female. We sincerely thank her for sharing her story.

Processed foods.  Whole foods.  Organic.  GMOs.  Good Foods.  Bad foods.

When did all of these labels become so powerful? When did we stop listening to what our bodies wanted to eat, rather than what the media deemed appropriate? If you are a person living in this country, my guess is that your food intuition got drowned out somewhere in your childhood/adolescent years. For many, once we gained the wherewithal to understand the outside world and the messages being thrown at us via TV, radio, internet, we were no longer allowed to listen to our bodies and were told the “right” and “wrong” ways to eat. Or maybe you are one of the rare people that maintains a healthy, nonjudgmental relationship with food. If so, please don’t change your ways; you are unique and courageous.

Let me start by saying that I have been in recovery from a restrictive eating disorder for about three years. At the height of my eating disorder, I felt as though I could not escape the judgmental voices in my head that were only amplified by the outside messages I was receiving. I have never been considered an overweight child or adult, but at a young age, I became hyperaware of my food habits and developed an overwhelming fear of being fat. Growing up in an affluent town, where the pressure to succeed in every way, shape, and form became the standard, maintaining a “thin” ideal was the only way I felt I could succeed, as I did not believe I was successful enough in my studies at school. I was very studious and maintained As and Bs, but this was not comparable to the others around me in high-level AP courses with perfect scores. With this frame of mind, I turned to food restriction in the hope that if I couldn’t be the smartest, I would strive for the “perfect” body instead – whatever that even means.

I later learned that food would become a perceived source of control for when anxiety took hold in my life. Generalized anxiety, with a bit of obsessive compulsive behavior, is a genetic component of my brain chemistry that I inherited; it is a feature I share with others in my family. This seems to be a common theme amongst those with eating disorders, and thus I am not unique in this. My life became consumed with thoughts of food, body image, and the fear of becoming fat. I never thought I was dieting, just “eating healthy.” Striving to increase fruit and vegetable intake, and getting physical activity, in and of itself is a great thing. However, it is commonly a gateway mindset to disordered eating. What most people don’t understand is that an eating disorder is not something that is chosen or easily reversed. A lot of people have said to me “just eat,” or “you have nothing to worry about; you’ve never been overweight.” Trust me, I would not choose a life full of counting calories and innate voices telling me that if I maintain my thinness, I am a better, more beautiful person. That is an insurmountable amount of pressure to be put under, so no, I did not choose to think and act this way. Of course, an eating disorder, while potentially deadly in its own right, is not necessarily a terminal disease, and for that I am very grateful, but that does not mean my story is any less important or challenging. It is a taboo social/mental health issue that we don’t often discuss (until most recently), but I would like to put an end to that. Many of us suffer in silence with voices telling us that we are not thin enough, or that if we put on weight, we will not be loved. I myself did not have the discussion with many of my closest friends until a year or more into recovery.

I can tell you that although I have come a remarkably long way in my journey to recovery, these voices never go away; they only get quieter. I have come to terms with the fact that this may be my own destiny, but that doesn’t necessarily mean food has to run my life in a negative fashion. It has been embedded into our brains as a society that there is a certain way to eat, and not to eat. For some reason, food has gained a moral power, and we are judged on character by what and how much we eat on any given day. For those of us who have struggled with any form of eating disorder, it feels nearly impossible to ignore the flood of messages we receive on an hourly basis regarding food choices. For some, it may be easier to block these harmful messages out, and for that, I am envious.

By nature, I am an easy target for the influence of what I refer to as “Ed” (as in Eating Disorder), the alter ego voice that reinforces negative and irrational food thoughts and behaviors. I was an insecure child growing up in a high-pressure minicosm within a larger society that places increasing value on the “thin ideal.” Trying to navigate the steps to recovery has felt impossible at times in the modern-day era, where food and body size remains a constant topic of conversation. This hyperawareness of food is a fairly novel phenomenon. The seemingly harmless recipe blogs found on Pinterest, fitness blogs, and health research articles have grown in numbers, highlighting the fact that food obsession has become the norm. There have been periods in recovery where I had to deactivate my Facebook account and/or unfollow certain websites in order to regain my sanity and focus on what works for MY body and holistic self. The number of conflicting (and often untrue) facts and opinions on the “best,” “healthiest,” “clean” diets, available at our fingertips is more harmful to achieving a “normal” food mentality than we realize. Even something as seemingly innocent as family, coworkers, and friends asking what I was having for lunch or dinner, or what was in the lunch I brought to work. The analysis and chatter regarding food trends and health is inescapable, and when I took a step back and became aware of it, I recognized my OWN disordered comments with others. I became more sensitive to asking others about their food habits, or how I complimented them, such as the common, well-meaning “Wow, have you lost weight? You look great!” The number of disordered messages that this single statement holds is often overlooked, as weight loss is praised and often equated with beauty.

A very tricky component of my recovery process is that I enjoy cooking (and have to say I am quite decent at it). I often justified cooking my own meals because it was cheaper and “healthier.” Now while that is certainly true, I now realize that measuring and calorie counting every morsel of every meal provided me with an immense feeling of control. I continued with these obsessive thoughts and behaviors for over 3 years, and only about a month ago did I literally throw out any form of measuring cup or spoon. Over the past year, I began forcing myself to eat out once a week or more, where I couldn’t count calories or micromanage the ingredients in whatever I ordered. What I have learned in regards to this is that control feels safe, but rebellion is uncomfortable, and progress often does not occur without discomfort.

In my recovery process, the practice of “intuitive eating” has truly given me hope. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this style of eating, it is basically a practice of getting in touch with your body’s needs, wants, cravings, and satiety. Instead of “how many calories are in this sandwich?” or “how many calories have I eaten today?” the focus shifts to “what is my body in the mood for, and how can I create that? What type and quantity of food is going to make me feel nourished and energetic?” I have to say that honoring my hunger intuitively has been one of the most difficult challenges throughout the recovery process, but without a doubt, the most rewarding and satisfying. Eating without internal judgment? I have never known what that feels like or what it truly means. I may never fully recover from my eating disorder and have come to terms with that idea. However, I continue to learn about my body and coping skills in ways that I never thought possible. I will continue to have great days and very anxious days, but overall, I can say with confidence that life is truly brighter when food freedom feels just within my grasp.