How I Stopped Dieting. I Couldn't Stand Myself.

When I was at the grocery store the other day, I noticed the shelf was empty for a particular product, which wasn’t surprising. Over the years, I’ve observed this seems to be the case every January as many people embark on a popular diet that restricts a long list of foods. This out-of-stock product is one of the few foods allowed.

Although this diet program states it’s about wellness and not weight loss, the numerous people I know who have done it did so with the primary goal of losing weight. This is quite understandable considering the program promotes weight loss as an outcome despite lacking any sound scientific evidence to support this claim.

Nonetheless, I totally get why people do it. While I never did this specific program, I certainly jumped on the dieting bandwagon in the new year. 

As we’re bombarded with diet culture messaging, including non-stop ads featuring seductive success stories and special promotions, it’s very tempting to hop on the bandwagon. Doing so is completely understandable given the pressure we feel from our weight-obsessed culture with its unrealistic body standards and tendency to equate thinness with health and moral virtue.

Lingering Desire to Diet
It may come as a surprise to learn that even after working for a while on healing my relationship with food and my body, I was still tempted every now and then to go on a diet. 

My desire to diet didn’t just surface in the new year when it seemed like everyone else was also resolving to change their body. It would often arise whenever I was struggling with my body, including the times when I didn’t like my reflection in the mirror, how my clothes fit, how I looked in a photo or how my belly felt when I bent over.

I would immediately go into fix-it mode and think about all the ways I could correct what I believed was a problematic body. Maybe I should stop drinking wine. Perhaps I should cut out sweets, go gluten-free again, use smaller plates or count my macros. Adding more miles to my runs and doing more sit-ups might also help.  

Thankfully, over time, my weight-loss strategy sessions became shorter and shorter in duration as I became more adept with hitting the breaks whenever I started experiencing body dissatisfaction and barreling down the fix-it path.

This Helped Me Stop
What helped me the most with stopping dieting was reminding myself why it wouldn’t be a good idea to start dieting again. 

While I had come to understand that diets don’t lead to long-term weight loss for the majority of dieters, more than anything, I never again wanted to be the person I was when I was obsessed with my weight.

During that period of my life, all my time, energy and headspace were consumed by thoughts about what I ate, how I exercised and the number on the scale.

I was so preoccupied that it was hard to be fully present and engaged with my life. I neglected my relationships, my job and my social life. I avoided any situation where I was afraid I’d blow my diet or get off track with my exercise routine.

I snuck food and binged on my forbidden foods when I allowed myself to have them. I freaked out when I gained a pound or felt I ate badly then compensated by eating less and exercising more.

Naturally, since I was constantly policing my own eating, I often food policed other people’s food choices (ugh, this really makes me cringe!). 

I treated my body like crap, ignoring its hunger, its cravings, its need for nourishment and rest.

I was tired, anxious, cranky, distracted and frankly, no fun to be around.

While well-intentioned, my dieting harmed my wellbeing and, regrettably, hurt those around me.

Reflecting on my life and the person I was when I was dieting gave me the determination and strength I needed to never diet again. 

Make Peace Instead
While I've been anti-diet for many years now due to everything I've learned both personally and professionally, I completely believe in body autonomy including the right to diet. 

However, I feel it’s important to know what the diet industry, including weight-loss companies and advocates, will never tell you, namely the numerous ways dieting can harm you, so you can make informed decisions.

They will certainly never warn you that for many people like myself, dieting is a gateway to disordered eating and exercise, and for some, to actual eating disorders.

Like me, you may find it helpful to reflect on your dieting history whenever you’re tempted to try another diet. I encourage you to take a moment to consider all the ways dieting has harmed you—and how your life may change if you made peace with food and your body instead.

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?

I Was Fixated on Food. I Thought I Was Just a Foodie.

Are you old enough to remember Gourmet magazine?
 
I was devastated when it shut down. 

I still recall where I was when I heard the magazine was closing. I was trekking in Nepal and met another traveler from the United States. As we were ambling along the trail, she shared the crushing news. 

I didn’t believe her at first. I thought it was a terrible rumor. 

I was shocked that such a beloved cultural icon with a rich 68-year-old history could shutter so abruptly.

My Entire World
I was devastated because I relished the magazine. It was such a special thrill to find it in my mailbox once a month nestled among the utility bills and grocery store ads.

It was also a bigger deal to me than one might expect, as food, including food media, was pretty much my entire world back then.

I spent hours devouring food magazines, websites, blogs, newsletters, books and TV shows. I read restaurant menus online and crawled into bed at night with cookbooks.

My work breaks and evenings were spent immersed in a clunky online message board reading fervent posts by food fanatics about who had the best burrito, brownie or bread in the Bay Area.

If Instagram existed back then, I’m sure many hours would have melted away as I scrolled through every food-related account.

I was infatuated with food. It was my primary focus. I thought it was because I was a foodie.

Understanding My Fixation
It wasn’t until years later that I came to fully understand my fixation. 

It was because I was hungry.

My thoughts were consumed by food because I wasn’t consuming enough food.

I was constantly thinking about food because my very wise body was trying to get me to eat more food. Low on energy due to dieting, it was attempting to get the fuel it desperately needed to survive.

Learning about the Ancel Key’s Minnesota Starvation Experiment (CW: calorie counts, disordered eating, photos) helped me see how my undereating drove many of my behaviors during this time, including my food fixation.

The experiment's objective was to study the physical and mental effects of starvation during World War II and postwar refeeding practices. Thirty-six young healthy men, all conscientious objectors, volunteered to be subjected to a calorie-restricted diet for six months.

One of the outcomes was the men became preoccupied with food, including constantly talking about it, dreaming about it, reading cookbooks and collecting recipes. 

By the time the study was completed in 1945, one participant owned more than 100 cookbooks.

Describing his fixation with food, another participant shared that “…it made food the most important thing in one's life…food became the one central and only thing really in one's life. And life is pretty dull if that's the only thing. I mean, if you went to a movie, you weren't particularly interested in the love scenes, but you noticed every time they ate and what they ate.”

Related to Their Experience
While my weight-loss intention was quite different (to look good*) than those of the men who participated in the study (to do good), we experienced many of the same food deprivation symptoms.

Not only had I become hyper-focused on food, like many of the study subjects I also found myself guarding my food, sneaking food, engaging in hunger-suppressing strategies, bingeing on food, feeling irritable, anxious, depressed and fatigued, becoming socially isolated and more.

And, like a few of the men in the study, I even got a job in the food industry. I became the marketing manager for a food website with a slick test kitchen. Sadly, I never ate a bite of any of the delicious food prepared in it as it wasn’t allowed on my diet.

Although in no way was my intentional deprivation from dieting comparable to the heartbreaking chronic hunger, starvation and malnourishment experienced by millions of people around the world, I can relate to so many of the things the food-deprived men in the study experienced. Maybe you can, too.

More Calories Than a Diet
It’s important to understand that the daily number of calories the men were fed during the study's “starvation” phase was similar to what most diet programs prescribe today.

While they were considered semistarved, the participants were likely eating more calories than many of us have been instructed to eat on some diets. 

It seems beyond unethical that diet companies have known for more than 75 years about the numerous physical and psychological harms their programs can cause yet they continue to offer them while intentionally neglecting to warn their customers of their potential adverse side effects. 

If they truly valued people’s wellbeing over their bottom line (ha!), this information would be made available so folks could make fully informed decisions.

Stopped the Fixation
As I started divesting from diet culture, giving myself unconditional permission to eat and fully nourishing my body, I stopped fixating on food. 

While the foodie in me still enjoys exploring different food cultures, reading an occasional food article, tuning into some food podcasts and shows, and experimenting with a new recipe now and then, my interest is nowhere near the level of obsession it was when I was dieting, which frees up a ton of time and energy for a variety of other pursuits.

Of course, not everyone who is obsessed with food and everything related to it is dieting, undereating or engaging in other disordered eating behaviors. People are passionate about food and really into food-related content for all sorts of reasons. 

Thankfully, my personal interest in food these days is because I find it fun, pleasurable, comforting, compelling, connecting and nourishing.

And if Gourmet magazine happens to be resurrected someday, I’d likely be quick to renew my subscription.

*I deeply regret that I had a lot of unexamined anti-fat bias at the time due to decades of social conditioning that taught me there was only one right way to have a body (i.e., the thin ideal) and warped my idea of what it meant to “look good.”