Fritos, French fries, chocolate... for years, these foods were at the top of my “forbidden food” list—foods that triggered guilt and binge eating. For over 40 years I compulsively dieted, yo-yoing up and down 20-30 lbs., struggling to maintain a much lower weight than was natural for my body.
Then, in October of 2009, I stopped dieting—but wait a minute. Let’s back up to 1966, when I was 12 years old. I was of average weight; maybe a little plump around the middle, but essentially tall and slender. Except I thought I was fat. Where did I get that idea? From my main role model—mom, who was always on a diet—always trying to be thinner than her body wanted to be.
At age 14, I dreamed of being a ballet dancer—who ever heard of a fat ballerina? In preparation for an audition for the local ballet company, my dance teacher told me I needed to lose a few pounds. In one short month I starved off 30. And I got into the ballet company.
Staying thin required constant vigilance. I’d eat as little as possible throughout the day—raw vegetables, maybe a little cottage cheese. Mom, alarmed by my sudden weight loss marched me off to the family doctor. I was anorexic: 104 lbs., losing my hair, so boney I could barely sit down, anemic, moody and not sleeping well. The doctor told me I needed to gain 20 lbs. and prescribed iron shots. I was upset—but at the same time relieved. An adult whose authority I respected had given me permission to eat! I left his office with a 2000 calorie diet tucked under my arm.
Over the next several months I did gain weight, though it was hard to watch the numbers on the scale rise, and my waistline expand. Soon I was too heavy for ballet. I switched to modern dance—modern dancers don’t have to be quite so thin.
Fast forward to college—I majored in modern dance. I felt a little freer with my eating, but still had to watch my calories to maintain a slender “stage” body. I also met and married Gary, a wonderful guy who was an extraordinarily normal eater.
Picture this: my new husband and I are eating our first dinner in our little apartment—probably something like broiled chicken and a salad with diet dressing—no bread, no butter, no potato. After Gary finishes his food, he pushes back his plate and asks: “So, what’s for dessert?”
“Dessert! We don’t eat dessert.”
Growing up, Gary was served dessert every night, but in my home—desserts were reserved for special occasions. I couldn’t have desserts around the house. I couldn’t resist them. I might gain weight.
My attitudes changed when 3 years later, we decided to get pregnant. I had to nourish my unborn child. Throwing care to the wind I gained 30 lbs. Of course, after the baby was born, I had to get my dancer body back. Fortunately, since I was nursing, it was easy to get the baby-weight off.
I performed, taught dance, and roller-coaster dieted until 1992, when my career was permanently derailed by knee arthritis. Soon I found a new creative outlet—visual art. But art is pretty sedentary, and in a few months I ballooned up to 170.
“What can I expect to look like when I’m 60?” I asked my doctor at my annual physical. She noted my weight gain and said, “What does your mother look like?” Well, my mother had pretty much lost the battle of the bulge—compared to me, fat as I was, she was huge. My doctor told me that I needed to lose 15 lbs. She recommended swimming and a low-fat diet. I lost 30 lbs. in about 3 months—kept it off for 5 years—but over the next 5 years, back it crept.
So that’s my story, except for the part where I figure out what “normal” is... as I said, 2 years ago I quit dieting. That’s when I read an awe inspiring book—Hungry, by Crystal Renn—a recovered anorexic, who, at age 23, achieved a feat that at age 55, I was determined to achieve.
Crystal urges women to allow themselves to find their “natural weight” (sometimes referred to as the “set point”)—the weight your body seeks when sufficiently nourished, a weight that’s easily maintained without starving or stuffing, a weight that I’ve maintained since 2009.
Except, I have no idea what I weigh, because in 2009, I threw away my scale for good too. And when I go to the doctor, I ask the nurse to not tell me what I weigh. I just look at the ceiling while standing on the scale. Thankfully, my doctor’s more interested in my overall health than what I weigh, and overall... my health is excellent.
According to the charts, I’m a little overweight, but I’m more interested in my overall health than whether or not I measure up to the charts—and overall—my health is excellent.
Portia DeRossi, actress, recovered anorexic and author of Unbearable Lightness, states that dieting, a form of dis-ordered eating—interrupts normal eating, just like anorexia and bulimia do. “Dis-ordered” eating is a cycle of restrained eating... inevitably followed by a cycle of dis-inhibited eating... the state of perpetual famine or feast that dogged me for almost my entire life. “Ordered” eating is eating when you're hungry and stopping when you're satisfied. “Ordered” eating is not about restricting certain foods because they’re “bad”. “Ordered” eating is eating for enjoyment, for health, and to sustain life.
One more remarkable book helped me put structure to my healing process— Ellyn Satter's, Secrets of Feeding a Healthy Family. With the guidance I found in Ellyn’s book I learned how to feed my body delicious, real-food meals and snacks at regular, reliable times... what Ellyn terms “eating competence.”
Becoming a normal eater wasn’t easy. When I quit restricting calories, I was hungry all the time. I got fatter at first, but after several months, my appetite slowed and my body settled down to the size that it is. In her book, Women Afraid to Eat, nutritionist and founder of the Healthy Weight Network, Frances Berg, says that it takes about 6 months to recover from having been in famine mode—psychologically and physiologically.
I still have the occasional “fat” day, but less and less often. On those days, I redouble my efforts to believe that I'm fine just the way I am, trusting my body to know where it needs to be, size-wise. I realize—now that I am consistently and sufficiently nourished—that there is and always will be more food tomorrow. Famine drives us to overeat. Abundance allows us to relax about our eating and stop when we've had enough.
Now about my cookbook... one day, while digging through my recipes trying to decide what to make for dinner, those recipes that for years I thought I couldn't eat as part of everyday meals, I got this crazy idea. Why not write a cookbook of my formerly “forbidden” foods? It would be my own little rebellion against those voices from the past that told me what and when I could and couldn't eat. Macaroni and Cheese. Lasagna. Brownies... I typed up all my favorites and in a few weeks, I had about 100 recipes.
I put them in binders for my daughters’ Christmas presents. But soon I was casting about for a way to publish this great collection of recipes and that’s how Pea Soup: Recipes for Body, Mind, and Spirit from a “Kitchen Table Gourmet”, was born. And while I was typing, testing and tasting the recipes; my relationship with food was continuing
to heal.
I didn't realize at the time how important Pea Soup was to my recovery. This phrase from my cookbook's introduction pretty well sums it up:
“Soup, to me, represents everything that is warm and healing and restorative—soup bubbling all afternoon on the stove, soup filling your kitchen with its savory aroma, soup prepared with care and time and love.”
As for “Body, Mind and Spirit”... the body must be fed in order to thrive, there’s no option, you have to eat to live. The conscious Mind decides what, when, and how much to eat, and determines when the body is satisfied. And the Spirit... well the Spirit soars when one achieves peace with her body’s size and shape.
And the phrase “from a Kitchen Table Gourmet”? Well, that phrase was borrowed (with permission, of course) from Ellyn Satter's book. According to Ellyn, “The great gourmets dedicate their lives to exquisite eating experiences. They take pride in their discriminating tastes and are knowledgeable about fine food.”
I learned that this type of cooking and eating need not happen only in fine restaurants or at holiday times. It can happen at my very own kitchen table… and at yours too.
In our weight-obsessed culture—at any given time, 50% of women are on a diet, 95% who lose weight will regain it within 5 years, and 50% of disordered eaters never recover normal eating patterns—I am truly one of the lucky ones. I hope my story has been an encouragement to you. It is possible to come to peace with food and your body. Oh, and by the way, I eat my Fritos almost every day!
This post is one of a series entitled: "Let's Eat: Befriend you Body and Your Food", posts based on my life as a disordered eater and how I finally found order—got off compulsive dieting, got on normal eating, and reached a place of peace with my body and its natural weight—which is not exactly not thin, not exactly fat—but exactly right—for me.
-Enjoy your food, celebrate your body, and be healthy and happy no matter your size.
For a jolly-good cookbook, chock-full of tasty, wholesome, real-food recipes click here to order your copy of "Pea Soup: Recipes for Body, Mind, and Spirit from a 'Kitchen Table Gourmet,'" by Beth Spencer.
