Pinkalicious

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Mondays are our kindergartener’s “media day,” which means she and her classmates visit her elementary school’s library and have an opportunity to borrow a book for the upcoming week. During one Monday afternoon walk home from school, she gave me a synopsis of the book she was taking home, something along the lines of, “She [the main character] eats a lot of pink foods and turns pink, then she eats more pink food and turns red, and then she eats green foods and her color turns back to normal.”

Uh-oh.

Right off the bat, I had a feeling where this was going. My intuition proved correct once I read the book myself. Pinkalicious is a funny and cute book, but it is problematic in certain ways. If your child is going to read it, an accompanying and clarifying conversation will be important in order to mitigate harm.

The story begins with the main character, a young girl named Pinkalicious, baking pink cupcakes on a rainy day. She disregards her parents’ commands and eats so many of them that she wakes up in the morning and discovers that she has turned pink. Her doctor diagnoses her with a case of “Pinkititis” and advises her, “For the next week, no more pink cupcakes, pink bubble gum, or pink cotton candy.” The doctor continues, “To return to normal, you must eat a steady diet of green food.” Immediately thereafter, the book reads, “(YUCK!)”

The accompanying illustration shows several pink foods crossed out, indicating that Pinkalicious is to abstain from them. While the picture does include strawberries, grapefruit, and watermelon, the vast majority of the foods are desserts: lollipops, jelly beans, cotton candy, ice cream, donuts, milk shakes, jello, and cupcakes.

Following her trip to the doctor, Pinkalicious suffers various consequences as a result of her altered color: Her friend cannot spot her because she is camouflaged among the pink peonies, a bee mistakes her for a flower and lands on her nose, and she cries for her mother to take her home after bees, butterflies, and birds surround her.

Back at home, Pinkalicious requests and is denied another pink cupcake. After pretending to eat her dinner of “mushy, dark vegetables,” she sneaks back into the kitchen in the middle of the night and devours a cupcake that her mother had hidden. In the morning, a horrified Pinkalicious awakens to discover that her condition has worsened: She is now red.

Desperate to return to her normal self, Pinkalicious says, “I opened the fridge, held my nose, and squeezed a bottle of icky green relish onto my tongue. I ate pickles and spinach, olives and okra. I choked down artichokes, gagged on grapes, and burped up Brussels sprouts.” The accompanying illustration shows a few fruits – limes, honeydew, green apple, and grapes – and a bunch of vegetables, including broccoli, cucumber, celery, asparagus, cabbage, and peas. After ingesting these green foods, Pinkalicious loses her discoloration and becomes “beautiful.”

Left to their own devices to interpret this story, a child has likely internalized the following messages: (1) Pink foods are almost exclusively sweets. (2) Too many sweets will make them sick. (3) Sweets have an addictive-like quality. (4) The way to get healthy is to completely avoid sweets and to instead eat green foods. (5) Green foods are almost exclusively vegetables. (6) Vegetables are yucky. (7) Vegetables make them pretty.

Unfortunately, all of these messages are problematic. Let’s take a look.

Problematic Message 1: Pink foods are almost exclusively sweets.

Plenty of pink foods exist that have zero to mild sweetness, including corned beef, edible flowers, beets, dragon fruit, rare steak, and Himalayan salt, yet the only examples of pink foods that the authors cite are sweets because the former is really just code for the latter.

Problematic Message 2: Too many sweets will make them sick.

Sure, too many sweets can make someone sick, a lesson that I learned on Halloween many years ago. However, we tend to single out and villainize sweets, as if they are somehow the only food group that can sicken us in excess, while ignoring the reality that too much of anything can be detrimental to our health. Remember that even water, when consumed excessively, can kill someone.

Problematic Message 3: Sweets have an addictive-like quality.

Admittedly, this message is more subtle than the others, and I can imagine that it will go over the heads of some children. However, for those of us familiar with the apparent fallacy of sugar “addiction,” we can see its theme in the way that Pinkalicious eats another cupcake despite already having turned pink and gone to the doctor as well as in the lengths that she goes to – deceiving her family, waking up in the middle of the night, and sneaking around – in order to obtain the cupcake. Nevertheless, research suggests that sugar “addiction” is not a true addiction, but rather a byproduct of how we tend to demonize and restrict sugary foods.

Problematic Message 4: The way to get healthy is to completely avoid sweets and to instead eat green foods.

If this general sentiment sounds familiar, maybe that is because our culture oftentimes splits foods into dichotomies and presents one side as sin and the other as salvation. Whole30®, detoxes, “clean eating,” etc., are all based on this basic – and flawed – premise.

Alan Levinovitz, a religion professor who has taken to writing about nutrition because of the intersectionality of spirituality and food, sums up the situation very well, “It’s terrifying to live in a place where the causes of diseases like Alzheimer’s, autism, or ADHD, or the causes of weight gain, are mysterious. So what we do is come up with certain causes for the things that we fear. If we’re trying to avoid things that we fear, why would we invent a world full of toxins that don’t really exist? Again, it’s about control. After all, if there are things that we’re scared of, then at least we know what to avoid. If there is a sacred diet, and if there are foods that are really taboo, yeah, it’s scary, but it’s also empowering, because we can readily identify culinary good and evil, and then we have a path that we can follow that’s salvific.”

Sickness and health are never entirely within our control and are certainly way more complex than eat this, not that.

Problematic Message 5: Green foods are almost exclusively vegetables.

To acknowledge the obvious, yes, many vegetables are green. However, for all the green veggies in the world, we also have pistachios, pumpkin seeds, avocados, and other fruits that the book excludes. Are sweets, such as lime jello and green apple jelly beans included? What about – gasp – green cupcakes? Of course not, and I think we all know why.

Problematic Message 6: Vegetables are yucky.

The attitude that we have towards various foods shapes how our children come to see them. In our culture, adults often teach children to view eating vegetables as a chore. For example, earning dessert by first eating vegetables teaches the child that consuming vegetables is the suffering that one must endure in order to be able to eat what they really want.

My first job as a dietitian was a traveling research position that sent me all over the country examining the foods and eating behaviors in elementary school cafeterias. All these years later, I still remember two specific schools. In one suburban Chicago school, the kids saw eating vegetables as uncool and would not eat them, so the cafeteria monitors would proactively remove the vegetables from the trays for fear that the uneaten veggies would be ammunition for a food fight. Peas were on the menu the day I was there, and I remember seeing the bottom of the trash bin lined with confiscated peas. Meanwhile, eating vegetables was the in thing to do in one northern Tennessee school. The problem the cafeteria workers faced there was that kids were taking too many vegetables from the self-serve salad bar, thereby exceeding the allowed serving sizes. The contrast between these two schools stuck with me because it illustrates how cultural views of a food shape its consumption.

Of course we all have our own unique food preferences and aversions, and some people genuinely just do not care for vegetables, but teaching kids that they are “yucky” is mostly a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Problematic Message 7: Vegetables make them pretty.

“I was me, and I was beautiful,” says Pinkalicious after eating green foods and returning to her normal hue. With beauty being the subjective entity that it is, the use of the first-person perspective is significant and raises questions to which we will never know the answers.

On the surface, this quote reads as a self-affirming statement, but does Pinkalicious – who loves the color pink – really think she looks better now than she did when she was pink, or is she rather expressing relief that her color now matches the necessary criteria for societal beauty standards? In other words, does she really think she is beautiful in her own eyes, or because others – her parents, her doctor, and society as a whole – have taught her that being pink was wrong?

Unsaid but certainly implied is the message that if Pinkalicious returned to her beauty after eating green foods, then she must have been less than beautiful when she was eating pink foods, which tells kids that eating sweets makes them less attractive. If that sounds like too much of a stretch, consider the multitude of my adolescent patients (and sometimes their parents, too) who scapegoat sweets for their acne.

Given how many people – including kids – learn to dislike their bodies and yearn to conform to whatever media, peers, doctors, family, friends, etc., say they should look like, the notion that vegetables can make someone beautiful is surely enticing. The problem is that this message is false. Regardless of what one considers beautiful, no food group has the power to dramatically alter appearance.

Do you really want to indoctrinate your kindergartener into diet culture? If not, make sure that enjoying a reading of Pinkalicious is accompanied with a conversation discussing these messages.

Prep

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At the beginning of this month, I had my very first preventive colonoscopy. For those of you in your mid-40s and over, you may know that the procedure is now being recommended at the age of 45 (previously it was age 50) to screen for colon cancer and other bowel issues. So when I turned 45 earlier this year, I booked my colonoscopy for this fall and thought it would be “no big deal.” But as the months went by and the procedure day drew nearer, I found myself getting more and more stressed about it.

I was not feeling anxious about the actual procedure itself because people I had spoken to who had had one told me that it is the easiest part. I was more distressed about the prep for the procedure. I knew that for several days prior, I would need to be on a “low residue” diet (basically low fiber), and then on the day before, I could only have clear liquids (but no red, purple, or blue).

I’ve been eating intuitively for over a decade and have not restricted or changed what I have eaten during that time other than while fasting for blood labs. Even though I knew the low residue diet was important for the procedure, it still filled me with dread, and honestly, I felt quite depressed. I found myself becoming preoccupied with what I “could” or “could not” eat. I obsessively looked at the lists of foods to avoid, and I felt such sadness. Despite the fact that now I was supposed to be eating foods lower in fiber (no seeds, nuts, beans, whole grains, or high fiber fruits and vegetables), it felt reminiscent of my dieting days.

Interestingly, I also found myself eating past the point of fullness more often during this time. It felt like I was having my “last supper” before the prep day, as I knew I would not have solid food for over 24 hours. Even though I rationally knew that food deprivation almost always leads to food preoccupation, I was still surprised at how difficult it felt.

The day of the “prep” was the worst day by far. I had stocked up on Jell-O, tea, apple juice, and vegetable broth, but it was (not surprisingly) completely unsatisfying. On the tip of a friend, I learned that I could also have gummy bears and Jolly Ranchers (just not the red, purple, or blue ones) as they liquify at body temperature, so I had some of those as well. Overall, I was a cranky, hangry person, and all I wanted to do was isolate.

By the time I started drinking the liquid laxative that early evening, I was pretty miserable. I will not go into the details of this part other than to say that I spent a lot of time in the bathroom that night and in the wee hours of the morning.

Luckily, I had booked the colonoscopy for first thing in the morning, which meant that I would be done with it all sooner. And, as advertised, the procedure itself was quick, easy, and painless (I was thankfully asleep for it all.) Of course, I was thrilled to hear that my colonoscopy results were excellent, with no areas of concern, and I will not need to get another one for 10 years.

Once I was able to eat normally again, I quickly noticed that my food preoccupation subsided, and I started feeling more relaxed around food. I was no longer a cranky, hangry mess and was able to eat in tune with my body’s cues.

I am very grateful that my procedure went well. And despite the discomfort, stress, and anxiety I felt during the days prior, I am glad that I had this experience. It reminded me that I never want to go through the restriction/food obsession cycle of dieting again. And it also reminded me that my body is amazing and always trying to protect me – that survival instinct is no joke! My advice to those of you who will be getting a colonoscopy? Take off the day before, make sure you have plenty of supplies at the ready, and remember that this too shall pass.

When Family and Friends Lose Weight

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It’s the beginning of summer, and one theme in particular has been popping up a lot lately in my appointments with patients. It seems like everyone’s mother/uncle/friend from college/cousin has gone on a “weight loss journey” since the winter. As you might expect, witnessing your loved ones and/or friends and acquaintances engage in intentional weight loss can stir up a lot of feelings in those of us who are trying to embrace the bodies that we have. Research on intentional weight loss has found “almost complete relapse” after three to five years. Other data are more specific and suggest 90% to 95% of dieters regain all or most of the weight within five years, while other research has found that between one third and two thirds of people end up heavier than they were at baseline. It can be hard to watch others receive the praise and acceptance that often comes along with these “weight loss journeys.” It’s difficult to watch these folks gain more and more privilege while we remain in bodies that often put us at a disadvantage in our fatphobic society. So what are we supposed to do with all of these feelings?

First off, I try to remind my patients that their mother’s/uncle’s/friend’s/cousin’s bodies are not our business. I firmly believe in body autonomy, or as Ragen Chastain calls it, “The Underpants Rule.” In essence, what someone chooses to do with their body is up to them (as long as it is not harming others). Our family and friends will often make choices that we don’t agree with. And those of us who are trying to fight the near-constant onslaught of fatphobia we are fed on a daily basis feel strongly that these friends/family members are doing harm to themselves and perpetuating diet culture. But at the end of the day, we aren’t in charge of others’ bodies. Just like we wouldn’t want someone telling us how to live in our own bodies, we can’t police others.

That being said, I think there is nothing wrong with protecting oneself and setting boundaries around diet and weight loss talk. If you are active on social media and the friend/family member is an active poster of weight loss updates, befores and afters, or touting their new “healthy lifestyle,” it might be time to either snooze them for a short while or hide them from your timeline indefinitely. This can be done by clicking the “unfollow” button on someone’s Facebook profile or clicking the “mute” button on Instagram. By doing this, you are removing the element of surprise from seeing these things popping up on your timeline. It’s hard to look away or unsee some of these posts, so preventing them from appearing on your social media from the start can be helpful.

Another way that you can set a boundary is by being up front with the friend/family member about how their diet/weight loss talk is affecting you. Sometimes I will help my patients role play what they would like to say to the friend/family member who brings up their diet/weight loss. In these types of situations, I encourage patients to try to give their friend/family member the benefit of the doubt. That is, it is very unlikely that they are intentionally causing you harm or distress; they just are unaware of how this kind of talk can be triggering. Here’s an example of how these conversations can be broached: “Hey, I know that you aren’t intending to, but when you talk about your diet/lifestyle/weight loss journey with me, it makes me feel uncomfortable. I am happy that you are happy with what you are doing, but hearing about it is unhelpful for me as I’m working on accepting my body and letting go of diet culture.” If you are struggling with an eating disorder (and this person knows about it), it could be helpful to also say, “Part of my eating disorder recovery is not engaging in diet/weight loss talk as it can make my symptoms worse.”

If after these tactics, the message is still not getting through, it is within your right to limit your exposure to these individuals. This might mean doing shorter meet-ups rather than long, drawn-out hangouts, limiting your time spent at family gatherings, or getting together less often. If this is not an option, you can take space when you need to at these events, excusing yourself from the room or going for a walk by yourself, for example. I also highly recommend cultivating your own “anti-diet” community either online or in person if you are able to. There are many fat-positive folks all over the world, and it can feel less lonely when you are around those who “get it.” Instagram and Facebook can be helpful in finding these people and connecting with them.

At the end of the day, I hope that the one thing you will remember is that just because your
friend/family member is actively engaging in diet culture, you do not have to go that route. You deserve to embrace and live in the body you have, and you do not have to change it. Your body has never been the problem – our fatphobic culture is.

Evelyn

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Some blogs take me longer to write than others. This one, I started four years ago, shortly after my grandmother, Evelyn, died suddenly of a stroke at 95 years old. Ravaged by Alzheimer’s, her memory had badly deteriorated, and she was residing in a senior living facility with a great staff who cared for her.

The latter point is at least the rumor because I do not know firsthand; I never actually visited her there. My grandmother and I had not seen each other in probably a couple of years when she passed. Although her memory problems were at first an annoyance to which we responded with humor – for example, my father would respond to her “How’s work?” questions with “Fine” rather than remind her that he was retired – her memory grew more concerning over time. First, she called my wife by the wrong name, then forgot her name entirely. My fear was that I would walk into her room and hear, “Who are you?” That would have been tough to take.

My grandmother was a complicated person. Everybody has challenges, some more than others, and she quite often met hers with twists of the truth. If you knew Evelyn well, then you know exactly what I mean. So the distance that divided us in recent years was both of my own making and her limitations.

Before that though, our relationship was solid. Although Evelyn was a reluctant mother who never truly embraced parenthood and the life changes that it requires, grandmotherhood was an entirely different story, and she was damn good at it. That included great-grandmotherhood. At a family gathering close to a decade ago, my niece and nephew were acting a bit rambunctiously and ignoring their parents’ directives to calm down. Their great-grandmother came over and said to the kids, “Let’s have a contest to see who can stay quietest the longest.” Right away, both children went silent. My brother turned to me, shocked. “I can’t believe that actually worked!”

My three favorite memories of my grandmother are as follows:

  1. When I was little – and I mean little, like nursery school or early elementary school little – she handed me a couple of dollars, as my grandparents often generously did when they visited. Not meaning it as a hint, but rather just stating a fact, I told her that I was just a couple more dollars shy of being able to buy a Dukes of Hazzard toy that I wanted. Right away, she reached into her pocket and gave me the money I needed. Thirty-something years later, that generous move has stuck with me.
  2. My brother and I occasionally had sleepovers at my grandparents’ condo. Typically, I stayed in one room with my grandmother while my brother shared a room with my grandfather. One evening, they switched things up, which did not go over well. Faced with the prospect of spending the night with my grandfather, I began crying. And then, apparently, I did not stop. I remember him, totally at a loss, calling for his wife, “Ev, he’s crying!” We switched back to the traditional configuration. In the morning, I woke up to find my grandmother looking at me and smiling, and I remember feeling very comfortable and safe.
  3. My grandparents visited us practically every Sunday except during the winters when they migrated to Florida. Each week, Evelyn arrived with food, including baked goods of various qualities. When I was a teenager, she caught wind of my liking peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Every Sunday, for weeks and weeks on end, she showed up with PB&J she had made for me. Peanut butter and jelly is cool and all, but there is a limit. Afraid of offending her, I was wary of asking her to stop, yet I could see no end in sight. Anxiously, I dreaded waves of weekly sandwiches that could potentially keep coming until I went away to college. Still, I certainly appreciated the kindness behind her gesture, and that is what I remember most.

Food was a source of stress with my grandmother in other ways, too. As is typical of people who lived through the Great Depression, both she and my grandfather hated to waste food themselves, and it irked them when others did as well. Americans often forget that it was not too long ago in our history that food scarcity was a widespread and significant problem. Some of the original dietary guidelines from the 1940s emphasized the importance of butter and sugar because so many calorie-starved young men were failing their military physicals. Today, our area food banks and the lines outside food pantries are evidence that many of our neighbors still struggle to get enough sustenance.

People who have experienced food shortages oftentimes rebound by eating too much when food eventually becomes plentiful again. Virtually anybody who has ever dieted can relate to this, as food scarcity is often self-imposed. For Evelyn, these behaviors became so ingrained that decades later she still cleaned her plate and expressed dismay if others left food. “But there are starving people in China!” she would exclaim, as if someone overeating in Boston would make any difference whatsoever for a malnourished individual on the other side of the globe.

Eating with my grandparents was stressful, as I never liked being told to continue eating when I knew I was already full. To my parents’ credit, they stood up for me and overrode my grandparents’ commands. Still, the tension made family meals unpleasant because I felt pressure from both grandparents to eat past the point of comfortable fullness. They would comment if the portion I served myself seemed too small to them, and I certainly heard about it if I left food on my plate.

It took me years to figure out why I sometimes get anxious eating in restaurants, but through working on my own relationship with food, now I understand that it traces back to my grandparents. If a portion is set in front of me that I assess as more than I can comfortably eat, the anxiety sets in, the enjoyment of eating diminishes, and then the internal questioning begins. What fraction of the meal must I eat to feel confident that the waitstaff will not get mad at me? Can I entice my wife to eat some of it? Will anybody notice if I hide food in my napkin?

Rationally, I know the truth is that the waitstaff probably do not care how much I eat. So long as I pay for the food, how much of it I eat is irrelevant to them. If they do judge my consumption, it probably has more to do with disturbances in their own relationships with food or perhaps fear that I did not enjoy my meal.

Irrationally though, I continue to project my grandparents’ judgment onto the waitstaff. My work is ongoing, and I know that eventually I will overcome this, but in the meantime, I have figured out some workarounds that mitigate my anxiety while also honoring my body’s intuitive eating cues. For example, I may ask the waitstaff to pack up the remainder of my meal even if I know I will dispose of the leftovers as soon as we leave. One might argue that is a waste of packing materials, a valid point, but it is certainly a better choice than using my body as a garbage disposal.

Sometimes, I challenge myself. If I feel particularly courageous, I will just leave a heap of food on my plate, ask the waitstaff to take it away, and see how they react. In literally every single case, the waitstaff have never made a comment about the amount that I have left. Seeing the juxtaposition between my fears and reality has helped significantly, but the process continues.

Few of you care about my grandmother and my own food woes, a reality to which I take no offense, but all of this is meant to illustrate that the work we do in my office is typically deeper than people expect. In order to create meaningful change, we often have to look beyond calories and grams and instead focus on how people make decisions about what, when, and how much to eat. Doing so may involve examining the historical influences that shaped one’s current eating behaviors, which in turn paves the way for moving into the future with a healthier relationship with food.