So this week I’ve talked about body stuff and emotional stuff, but there’s a key part of an eating disorder missing here: the food piece.
We all know that eating disorders aren’t really about food or the body, but there are times when it sure feels that way. Many times in the saga of my eating disorder, I would have sworn up and down that I HATED food. Who needs it, right? Meanwhile, I would be crying looking at another woman’s cart in the grocery store, nearly attacking her for her muffins. And since when was The Food Network my TV channel of choice?
Even once I was willing to admit that I didn’t hate food, and maybe even that I liked it, I never thought I’d eat and really enjoy it again. Food=fuel, and if I viewed it as medicine, I could get by. But you know what? I really like my oatmeal breakfast concoction. Sometimes I’ll proclaim my lunch the best one ever. I may or may not have cried over how good my first real grilled cheese was (read: oil in the pan, REAL cheese, not plastic-wrapped, fat-free slices, and NOT drowned in ketchup).
It’s still really hard to enjoy food. I’m scared that if I like it then I’ll never want to stop eating. And who am I to take pleasure out of food? Deservedness is a hard thing. I’ll get there someday . . .
The other day, I saw a video that made me remember how joyous food can be. I hope that it makes you smile. I hope that it gives you hope.
You’re never too old to try new things. It’s never too late to find joy. Find it where you can, and hold onto it. It’s the little moments that make the dark less scary, and give you little footholds of hope to hold onto.