I EAT!

By Lara

Every day, we are faced with making endless choices—and so often given the craziness of our lives, when it comes to food, we simply don’t want to think about what to eat. So we mindlessly disassociate, disconnect, and shove anything into our mouths that will calm that roar in our bellies. Even for those who are on a “diet,” it’s still a mindless disconnect of: just tell me what to eat so I’ll be skinny.

Yet, at the end of the day, our bellies may have food in them, but so often we’re still hungry. Hungry for pleasure. Hungry for love. Hungry for joy. Hungry for acceptance.

It’s not the roar of our bellies that we so often long to feed: it’s the ache in our souls we feel when we want something more, but we have no idea how to find it.

Those roars, desires, and aches tell a story and reveal profound insights into a deeper world within—a world where our mind, body, and soul connect. A place where we have infinite creative power and possibility waiting to be evoked. Yet, in today’s culture, we are so bombarded from external chaos (or stress) that the internal chaos also ensues. From leading the carpool and filtering millions of media/marketing messages to worrying about taxes and what to cook for dinner, it’s no wonder we seek order.

So often that order we seek appears in two distinct ways: a) let me ignore my body and just do whatever I have to do to get by; and b) let me control my body through a diet because in doing so, I feel a sense of power and order that I don’t otherwise feel.

For so many of us, this is a complete pendulum swing—one day we’re counting calories or points and the next we’re shoveling in a half-gallon of ice cream. Then we beat ourselves up for having “fallen off the wagon” and vow to do it all differently.

It’s a seemingly endless cycle, and one that I spun in for nearly 25 years. For me it began around age two. I would scream, “I eat” as my parents’ big blue Ford rumbled past the Dairy Queen along Highway 6 in my small Texas hometown. By age 10, I was on my first diet and doing Jane Fonda exercises with a bunch of my mom’s friends. Then, this disordered thinking (and eating) led me to dancing with anorexia by 14, topping 200 pounds by 19, and spend years gaining and losing the same 20 pounds.

You see, what we so often fail to understand is that our relationship with food is the most important, complex, and longest lasting relationship of our lives. Before we ever sprang forth into the world, we were in a relationship with whatever food our mothers ingested. And no matter how hard we try to ignore this relationship, it’s always there.

Behind my own yo-yo, I was playing the weight/wait game. It’s the sort of thinking that goes, if I lose this “weight” then I can really live. I’ll be happy. I’ll be loved. I’ll be sexy. I’ll be…fill in the blank. In the end, I was tired. No, not just tired. I was exhausted and confused. I was angry that I had kept myself believing that I had to “wait” until I lost “weight” to live.

Beyond the scales, new diet, latest exercise routine, and next marathon, I realized last year the core of what I truly wanted: I wanted balance. I wanted flow. I wanted to trust my body and just give it the food it wants versus what the latest diet guru says I’m to eat.

I knew I could no longer diet. I knew that I could no longer just use working out, marathon running, triathlon, and even yoga as a means to an end to simply burn calories. But what I didn’t know was how would I live? What do people eat who aren’t on diets? Do they work out?

Sitting with these questions, of course I stumbled upon an answer. It came in the form of book, “It’s Not About Food: End Your Obsession with Food and Weight” by Laurelee Roark and Carol Normandi. Having overcome eating disorders themselves, Laurelee and Carol run a non-profit organization, called Beyond Hunger, which helps women overcome eating disorders and disordered eating. (I will be featuring a portion of an interview I did with Carol and Laurelee in an upcoming blog.)

The book met me where I was and gave me a whole new range of understanding as to why I had always hid behind the shadows, and why I didn’t trust myself to choose foods that would nourish me.

Now, nearly a year later, I realize my wanting to understand this relationship between weighting and waiting isn’t just an interest. It’s my passion and purpose to help others reconnect and mend their relationship with food and their bodies. I am now going through the process of becoming a Certified Food Psychology Coach through the Spencer Institute, and as I open to what’s possible for my soon-to-be-clients, I also heal this relationship for myself.

In the weeks to come, I will be blogging about these issues with the intention that through my journey and learning, you may also discover a new awareness around your relationship with food as you slow down, tune in, and enjoy.

Read Full Post »