My Resolution Went Awry

A few decades ago, I started the new year resolving to lose weight once and for all. 

After years of attempting to reach my ideal size, I was more determined than ever to drop some pounds and keep them off for good. 

My initial strategy was to ramp up my exercise and make different food choices, like eating more vegetables and fewer sweets. Seemed reasonable enough.

After losing a few pounds, people started complimenting me on my smaller size (“You look so good!”) and my eating decisions (“You’re so good!”). Their praise felt really good—and it motivated me to pull the reins in tighter. 

Downward Spiral
What seemed like a healthy resolution quickly spiraled into a disordered relationship with food and exercise. 

My list of food and exercise rules grew. I cut out more and more foods and ran more and more miles. 

I meticulously counted calories in and out (on paper and spreadsheets—apps weren't a thing back then).

Soon, my entire life was consumed by my desire to control my weight. I thought about food and my body constantly.

I neglected my relationships, my job, my social life—basically anything that threatened my desire for control. 

I stopped going to lunch with coworkers because I didn’t want to eat off plan. 

I would no longer go out on Saturday nights as I feared drinking “empty calories,” plus I had to get up early to work out. 

If I did go to a party, I was never fully present as I was preoccupied with all the forbidden foods I wanted to eat but wouldn’t let myself have.

I was chronically late to work because I just had to run one more mile before going into the office.

I underate during the day then overate at night. I freaked out if I ate “badly” and compensated by eating less and exercising more. 

And, naturally, since I was food policing myself, I often food policed other people’s food choices (“Do you know how many grams of sugar are in that?!”). 

I constantly checked my body and kept moving the goalposts. I’d reach my target weight and then aim for a lower number. It was never enough. 

What I was trying to control ended up controlling me. 

Disordered Eating Gateway
Although I’ve shared parts of my story before, I wanted to bring it up again as it’s so very tempting and understandable to go on a diet in the new year, especially since we’re bombarded with seductive success-story ads and everyone around us seems to be dieting.

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

I also feel it's important to know what weight-loss companies and advocates will never tell you, namely the numerous ways dieting can harm you physically and physiologically. 

And they will certainly never warn you that for many people, dieting is a gateway to disordered eating, and for some, to actual eating disorders.

When you reflect on your dieting history, in what ways has dieting harmed you?

Today, I'm Getting Back On Track!

Today, I’m getting back on track!

How many Mondays have you said this to yourself?

How many times have you started your week with promises to eat better, eat less, eat clean, eat perfectly?

This used to be my weekly pattern.

I would lie in bed on Sunday night regretting how badly I felt I had eaten all weekend.

To quiet my inner food police and alleviate the guilt, shame and anxiety I felt, I’d promise myself that, starting tomorrow, things would be different.

Full of Hope
I’d wake up Monday feeling excited and hopeful about getting my act together.

Often, I’d be “good” and feel in control for the first few days of the week.

By Thursday night, however, things would start to fall apart. My discipline and willpower would begin to diminish.

I’d find myself obsessing about food, giving into my cravings, breaking my food rules, and reuniting with all the “bad” foods I declared off-limits on Monday.

I would try to fight it for a while, but eventually, I’d just throw my hands in the air exclaiming, “What the hell! I might as well just go for it because come Monday, I’m never letting myself do this again!”

Endless Cycle
Every weekend became a Last Supper.

It was an endless, exhausting cycle.

When I finally hit rock bottom and realized how damaging my diet mentality was, I began taking steps toward healing my relationship with food and my body.

This included breaking up with diet culture, ditching my diet mentality and food rules, and learning how to eat intuitively again.

Of course, this didn’t happen overnight.

Intuitive Eating is not a quick fix. It is, however, a pathway to freedom.

Since there are no rules and no illegal foods, there's no possibility of being bad, failing the plan and getting thrown in dieting jail.

Just Another Day
Now, Mondays are just another day for me.

The idea of “getting back on track” doesn’t enter my mind on the first day—or any day—of the week.

If you have a pattern of "starting over tomorrow" with your eating, please know that the desire to do so is completely understandable. It's natural to turn toward whatever might make you feel better.

However, instead of being stuck on this emotionally-draining roller coaster, I invite you to reflect on how it would feel to have a steady, peaceful relationship with food. How might your life change if every day of eating was just another day?

I Don’t Want to Pass Dieting On to My Kids

Can you relate to Sandra's story?

For as long as she can remember, Sandra's mom has meticulously counted calories and carefully weighed almost everything she eats.

When her aunts visit her parent's house, the conversation is often centered on who is doing what diet and how it’s going, together celebrating their wins and commiserating over their struggles.

Their own mother, Sandra's grandma, is a very restrictive eater and frequently comments on family members’ weight and polices everyone's eating.

Sandra's dad also has a fraught relationship with food. Over the years, he’s swung numerous times from eating everything to restricting something, whether it’s fat, carbs or the hours he’s allowed to eat.

At the age of 11, Sandra's mom took her to her first weight-loss meeting.

Although she felt a little weird being the only kid in the room, she also felt inspired by the success stories the women in the circle shared, especially when everyone cheered and clapped.

It felt good to be a part of their club and to be doing something to fix her apparently problematic body.

Ending the Legacy
Stepping into that weight-loss clinic as a young girl launched Sandra on the dieting rollercoaster. Since then, she’s tried every diet under the sun. After more than 20 years of yo-yo dieting, she’s hit rock bottom.

Even though she doesn’t like her body, she can’t stand the thought of going on one more diet. More than anything, she can’t stand the thought of passing her family’s legacy of body shame and dieting on to her kids.

Many of my clients who are thinking about starting a family or already have kids express their desire to protect their children from our harmful diet culture. They don’t want them to suffer the way they have.

This is also true for many of my clients who don’t have children but have kids in their life, whether it’s their nieces, nephews, friends’ kids, students or team members.

And it’s true for my clients who didn’t grow up in a family entrenched in diet culture yet didn't escape its pervasive clutches and are deeply motivated by the idea of not handing down their food and body challenges.

I get really excited when my clients share this desire with me because I know the positive ripple effect that can occur when just one person heals their relationship with food and their body, how doing so can put an end to a history of disordered eating and anti-fat bias.

What Kind of Role Model?
For my clients with this goal, we spend time exploring what type of role model they want to be when it comes to food and bodies.

We talk about how they can reclaim their ability to eat intuitively while helping the kids in their life maintain their ability to do so.

Then we do the challenging yet rewarding work that’s required to recover from diet culture and build a peaceful relationship with food and their body, one that they’re excited to pass along.