I Ate Freely on July 4th. Until I Learned I Shouldn't.

With the Fourth of July upon us, I’ve been reflecting on what Independence Day was like for me as a kid.

Naturally, the fireworks were the highlight of the holiday. However, I also have very fond memories of the food.

I recall kicking off the festivities with a pancake breakfast at our local pool. I happily gobbled up syrup-soaked flapjacks topped with strawberries, blueberries and whipped cream in honor of the occasion.

After hours of swimming and playing with my neighborhood friends, the day would end with a big block party. What a thrill it was to be able to ride my banana-seat bike down the middle of our street!

Picnic tables were hauled from backyards and covered with an array of homemade summer dishes, while a couple of grills smoked away on the sidelines.

Food-Fueled Fun
My nighttime fun was fueled by ketchup-covered hot dogs, honey baked beans, buttery corn-on-the-cob, juicy watermelon wedges, salty chips and dip, and very patriotic Jell-O salads. All of this was washed down with thirst-quenching cups of lemonade.

No matter what I ate, I always had room for a fudgy brownie or strawberry shortcake topped with rapidly melting vanilla ice cream.

I ate what looked good, tasted good and felt good in my body. Sometimes I ate it all, and sometimes I left some behind.

I ate freely and intuitively. 

Not Yet Tainted
My young mind hadn’t been tainted yet by diet culture—an oppressive system built on anti-fat bias and unrealistic body ideals, one that’s full of food rules, good/bad food lists, meticulous tracking, (e.g., calories, points, macros, etc.), intentional deprivation, punishing exercise and false promises.

I hadn’t been taught yet that I should be hyper-vigilant with food and micro-manage every morsel.

No one had told me yet that my body couldn’t be trusted and that I needed to rely on a plan or program to tell me how to eat.

I hadn’t learned to abhor my belly, demonize certain foods, feel ashamed about my eating and compensate for my food sins. 

I didn't worry about others judging my choices nor did I sneak food to protect myself from scrutiny.

Do I Want It?
While I loved all that food, I had more exciting and important things to focus on, like water-balloon tosses, sparklers and bottle rockets.

As an Intuitive Eater, I just ate and moved on.

Eating was simply a matter of: I can have it. Do I want it?

Diet Mentality Takes Over
Unfortunately, all of this changed as I entered my teenage years and began adopting a diet mentality powered by salads, rice cakes, diet sodas (hello, Tab!) and Jane Fonda workouts.

My desire to achieve the “thin ideal” led to decades of disordered eating and exercise.

Thankfully, with help from some very wise guides, I eventually broke free from diet culture and made peace with food and my body.

The healing process wasn’t easy or fast. Some days, I feel like I'm still a work-in-progress. But, it’s all been worth it.

Ending the war I was waging against myself enabled me to return to the food freedom and body liberation I experienced as a young girl.   

It’s Still Within You
I’m sharing this story as a reminder that, for the most part, we all came into this world as Intuitive Eaters—that is, we ate based on our instincts, inner cues and desires. As long as our needs were met, we were able to eat without worry, guilt, fear or shame.

Sadly, we’re losing touch with our ability to eat intuitively at a younger and younger age. Shockingly, an estimated 80 percent of 10-year-old girls have been on a diet.

I’m also sharing my experience to assure you that if you’ve become disconnected from the Intuitive Eater within you, you can reconnect with it.

It hasn’t gone away. It’s just buried under layers of diet-culture gunk, which today, is often packaged under the guise of “wellness.”

Magical Powers Not Required
I don’t have any magical powers. My clients don’t either. If we can relearn how to listen to and trust our bodies, it’s quite likely you can, too.

“I’m no longer searching for the ‘answer’ to the perfect way to eat. I don’t stress about how I eat because it isn’t that big of a deal anymore. I no longer believe those food guilt thoughts and that is F-R-E-E-D-O-M!” 
–Client Molly

I'm Like a Kid in a Candy Story. I Want It All!

When I go to the farmers market in the summer, I’m like a kid in a candy store. I want it all!

Yesterday, I went with the intention of buying a few handfuls of cherries before they are gone for the season. I left with not only a big bagful of those dark burgundy beauties but also with a bag brimming with fragrant white nectarines and deep purple plums. 

I can’t help myself. I absolutely love all the juicy, plump summer fruit.

Despite my intentions, I always buy much more than I planned—and I relish every single mouth-watering bite.

Pleasure and Scarcity
I experience tremendous pleasure when a sweet cherry tomato bursts inside my mouth, when juice runs down my forearm as I bite into a succulent yellow peach, and when a wedge of cool, crisp watermelon not only refreshes my entire being on a hot day but also reminds me of childhood block parties and lakeside picnics.

In addition to pleasure, I also experience scarcity.

As these luscious fruits are only in season for a few months of the year, I feel a sense of urgency to eat them all right away, before they disappear until next summer. 

Sure, I will buy a container of tomatoes or bag of frozen berries in the winter, however, their flavor doesn't light up my tastebuds the way in-season produce does.

I’ve written before about the role scarcity plays in our relationship with food, about how when something we need or desire is scarce or under the threat of scarcity, it’s a natural human response to want to get as much of it as possible as fast as possible before it’s gone. 

This is certainly the case for me when it comes to summer fruit. How does scarcity show up for you?

Unnecessary Deprivation
The scarcity you experience could be unintentional, such as only having access to a particular food for a limited time perhaps due to its location, supply shortages, budget constraints or seasonal availability.

It may also be intentional, such as purposefully restricting certain foods, like bread, cheese or sweets, often with the goal of weight loss.

Because summer’s bounty brings me so much joy, it’s always made me a little sad when folks share that they’ve cut out fruit because it’s not allowed on their diet. 

Of course, I absolutely understand if you need to limit your fruit intake due to a health condition. 

However, after years of restricting a long list of foods in an attempt to shrink my body, I don’t want you to experience the unnecessary deprivation and dissatisfaction I did, to miss out on one of life’s greatest and simplest pleasures if you truly don’t need to.

Nor do I want you to experience the backlash that can occur when you deprive yourself of food, such as obsessive food thoughts, intense cravings, overeating, binge-like eating and social isolation.

While I regret the many years I wasted dieting, I’m grateful my cherished fruits weren’t on the bad food lists back then. In fact, my diet mainly consisted of fruit and other carbs like bread, cereal and pasta—a big switch from today’s food rules.

Gusto and Glee
With summer upon us, I encourage you to consider if you’re needlessly depriving yourself of the seasonal delights that bring you abundant pleasure and if so, what are the consequences?

How would it feel to instead freely enjoy your favorite foods with gusto, to lick the peach juice, barbecue sauce, ice cream or corn-on-the-cob butter off your fingers with glee?

My Front Tooth Broke Off. It Meant Restricting Food Again.

About a year ago, I broke my front tooth off—the entire thing!—when biting into the hard crust on a piece of toast. 

Naturally, I was quite alarmed when I felt a big gap in the front row of my teeth. Thankfully, it didn’t hurt, but it did really freak me out.

Turns out, a root canal I had decades earlier after a car accident had weakened my tooth. I had no idea it could potentially break off and didn’t have any indication that it was on the verge of doing so.

An emergency visit to my dentist resulted in a temporary tooth until I could have dental implant surgery. 

The fragility of the temporary tooth meant I had to limit what and how I ate to avoid breaking or pulling it off.

New Food Rules
For the first time since I gave up dieting, I had to restrict my eating.

After years spent overcoming all my food rules, I now had a new set of rules to follow.

Hard, tough, chewy, crunchy and sticky foods were pretty much off-limits. 

As I could no longer use my front teeth, biting into a sandwich, slice of pizza, bagel, apple and the like was a big no-no.

I had to cut my food into very small pieces which made eating a very slow and tedious process. 

Dental surgery, which happened about a month later, hurt like heck and cost a gazillion dollars, also came with another set of food rules. While recovering, I was instructed to only eat soft, cold, mild foods for a few weeks.

And, since I once again had a temporary tooth until the dental implant was ready for the final tooth, I also had to continue the initial eating restrictions for about another four months.

Restriction Resistance
If you’ve ever had dental surgery, you know all too well how painful it can be.

And, if you’ve reclaimed your ability to eat intuitively after a history of dieting and disordered eating, being told you need to restrict your eating again can bring up all sorts of complicated feelings and challenges.

For some, it can be a slippery slope back into past disordered eating behaviors; this was something I was conscientious of and careful about.

For many, like me, it can trigger a lot of resistance, frustration and anger.

Once you’ve had a taste of food freedom, it’s really hard to put limits on your eating again.

Even though I knew the restrictions were necessary and temporary, I was not a happy camper. 

It was the cold, rainy season when I had my dental surgery and I longed for a forbidden cup of hot tea and a bowl of warm soup. Cold food did not sound appealing at all.

Not being able to eat what I wanted made me feel deprived, unsatisfied and cranky.

Freedom and Ease
Throughout the entire ordeal, my eating was riddled with anxiety. 

While I once felt anxious about how every bite would impact my weight, I now felt anxious about how every bite might impact my tooth.

Just like when I was dieting, eating decisions felt complicated and stressful. There were times I didn’t even want to deal with food as it just felt too hard. 

Thankfully, I made it through that distressing period and was eventually able to resume my usual eating with one minor exception. To be on the safe side, my dentist advised me to avoid biting into anything hard with my front teeth going forward.

While there are times I long for the satisfaction of biting into a crisp apple rather than cutting it into small pieces, I’m totally on board with this minor limitation as I absolutely don’t want to repeat that painful, stressful and costly nightmare.

The entire experience reminded me of why I gave up dieting, and it gave me an even greater appreciation for the ability to eat with freedom and ease.