My Last Last Supper. It Involved A Lot of Bread.

Many years ago, I went to see a naturopath about some health challenges I was having. As part of my treatment, she asked me to eliminate some foods from my diet, including gluten. Desperate to feel better, I agreed to do so.

I gave myself one last week to eat all my favorite gluten-containing foods.

During those last few days, I vividly recall feasting on artisanal sourdough loaves from my beloved local bread maker. 

I also raided all my favorite bakeries loading up on blueberry scones, chocolate chip cookies, veggie focaccia, chocolate fudge cake, and yes, more bread.

The idea of future deprivation drove this intense phase of one-last-shot, now-or-never eating. I happily gorged on gluten while simultaneously grieving the end of our relationship.

Can you relate to this behavior?

It’s called Last Supper Eating.

Farewell-to-Food Feast
Before embarking on a new diet, plan or program, have you ever found yourself eating everything in sight, especially the foods that will soon be forbidden?

Or perhaps you planned one last elaborate meal featuring all the dishes that would be off-limits starting tomorrow.

If you’re a yo-yo dieter, you’re likely very familiar with this pre-dieting ritual. Maybe it occurs every Sunday night before you get back on track on Monday.

Like many of my clients, you may view this period of intense, frantic consumption—which is often followed by overwhelming guilt—as “proof” that you need to restrict your eating because you simply can’t control yourself around food.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

The threat of food restriction can naturally trigger a Last Supper, farewell-to-food feast. It’s human nature to respond this way when deprivation and scarcity are just around the corner.

Yet, it’s so easy to go into self-blame and shame.

How to End Last Supper Eating
Intuitive Eating puts an end to Last Supper Eating.

With Intuitive Eating, there is no deprivation. You have unconditional permission to eat whatever looks good, tastes good, and feels good in your body.

Instead of depriving yourself and eating according to a set of rules, you ask yourself questions such as: What will hit the spot? What will satisfy my needs and desires? Is this satisfying? Do I like how it tastes and how it makes my body feel? Would I do anything differently next time?

In the Driver's Seat
When I started reclaiming my ability to eat intuitively, I asked myself if I actually liked the gluten-free foods I was eating.

The gluten-free bread, for example, was tolerable. It wasn’t delicious. It was simply an expensive vehicle for nut butter.

Since it wasn’t medically necessary for me to eliminate gluten (i.e., I don’t have celiac disease), I experimented with eating my beloved breads again, along with other gluten-containing foods—and my body felt just fine.

Although well-intentioned, the diet the naturopath put me on didn’t improve my health. It only caused a lot of unnecessary stress and left me feeling deprived and unsatisfied, which always backfires.

As an Intuitive Eater, I'm in the driver's seat. 

I determine what works best for me by staying attuned to the messages my body sends and focusing on what's satisfying.

If I skip a particular food because I don’t like how it tastes or feels in my body, I don’t view it as deprivation as I know I can have it if I truly want it, now or in the future.

It's such a relief to know I’ve had my last Last Supper.

Why You Obsess About Food

Do you spend a lot of time, energy and headspace thinking about food?

Is it hard to focus on work, concentrate on a book or show, or stay present while socializing or parenting because you’re distracted by thoughts about what you’re allowed to eat, when you’re allowed to eat, what you shouldn’t have eaten, or what you really want to eat but won’t let yourself have?

If this describes your experience, it’s most likely because:

1/ You are not eating enough

and/or

2/ You are not eating what you really want

If you are restricting your food intake because you are following a plan, program or rules that dictate your eating, it’s only natural that you will feel both physically and psychologically deprived and thus be preoccupied with food.*

Not About Willpower, Discipline or Addiction
Constant thoughts about food are not due to a lack of willpower, poor self-discipline or food addiction, despite what our diet culture wants you to believe.

When your very wise body is not getting its nourishment needs met due to food scarcity, deprivation and undereating, it will do everything it can to get you to eat, including flooding your mind with thoughts of food.

In order to stop obsessing about food, you need to:

1/ Honor Your Hunger
Eat as soon as possible when subtle hunger sensations surface—or before they do if you anticipate becoming hungry yet circumstances won’t enable you to stop and eat (e.g., a work situation where eating isn’t possible).

If you have a hard time sensing your hunger cues, which can be the result of dieting, medication, certain health conditions, trauma and other factors, set an alarm on your phone or watch reminding you to eat at regular intervals. 

In general, you want to eat about every two to four waking hours depending on what and how much you consume at each sitting. For example, if you prefer to eat small meals or snacks throughout the day instead of larger meals, you may need to eat about every two hours.

Should you feel tempted to ignore the alarm when it goes off, remind yourself that you need to eat food to stop obsessing about food.  

2/ Eat Unconditionally
Give yourself full, unconditional permission to eat what you truly want whenever you want it—assuming you have access to it and don’t have any limitations due to a health condition, such as a nut allergy or celiac disease. 

Giving yourself the freedom to eat unconditionally isn’t being reckless or indulgent. It's about ditching external food rules that disconnect you from your body’s needs and desires and instead eating whatever tastes and feels the most satisfying to you.

Space for More Fulfilling Things
When your body’s nourishment needs are fully met and you no longer feel a sense of scarcity, deprivation and dissatisfaction with food, it will take a balanced place in your life.

You will think about food much less, ultimately freeing up space for more fulfilling, meaningful things.

If you have a long history of dieting and disordered eating, honoring your hunger and giving yourself unconditional permission to eat will likely feel very scary and challenging at first.

Your eating may feel off-kilter or out-of-sorts; this is a normal part of the process. Once you and your body truly trust that your needs will be consistently met, these feelings will subside. 

It’s essential to be patient and compassionate with yourself and, if possible, to get support from an Intuitive Eating-informed counselor, therapist, nutritionist or online community.

I encourage you to also keep reminding yourself of what’s on the other side of this often hard and messy work: a peaceful, balanced and liberating relationship with food.

*It’s important to note that these feelings can also be due to food insecurity if you don’t have reliable access to enough food because of financial constraints or other barriers. If this is the case, I encourage you to seek out local food banks and public assistance programs. Here’s a helpful place to start.

Why I Couldn't Stop Eating the Crappy Cake

Years ago, I was at a friend’s bridal shower. At the end of the party, the host was desperate for all the guests to take some of the leftover cake.

It was one of those super tall cakes—an impressive feat of multiple layers of dark chocolate cake sandwich between chocolate buttercream frosting and topped with giant shards of dark chocolate.

“Everyone, please, please take some cake,” the host begged. “I can’t be trusted to have all of this cake in my house. I'm afraid I’ll lose control and eat it all!”

I offered to take a few big slabs home to give to my boyfriend. Although, secretly, I was really looking forward to eating the cake myself.

You see, despite longing for the cake at the party, I didn’t eat any because I was being “good” and didn’t want to tarnish my “healthy eater” image.

Once I Started, I Couldn't Stop
I honestly don’t remember if my boyfriend ate any of the cake; if he did, it wasn’t much.

What I do remember, however, is standing alone at my kitchen counter in the dark later that night, my mouth salivating as I pulled the plastic wrap off the cake.

As I dug my fork into the cake, my body buzzed with excitement. Cake was a rarity in my "clean eating" days, so I was understandably very excited to eat it.

Sadly, it didn’t live up to my expectations. The frosting was overwhelmingly sweet and the cake was flavorless and dry.

Nonetheless, I continued to eat it all, my pace quickening as I did.

I thought, “What the hell, I might as well polish this off as I'm not going to let myself eat cake again for a very long time.”

After licking the last bit of frosting off my fork and the plastic wrap, I was angry with myself for eating so much cake, especially since it wasn’t very good. “What a waste of calories!” the Food Police voices yelled in my head.

I was mad that I didn’t have enough self-discipline to toss the cake after discovering it didn’t taste satisfying.

I couldn’t understand why I kept eating it and blamed it on my lack of self-control. I deeply regretted bringing the cake home.

Natural Response to Deprivation
Looking back now, I can so clearly understand why I kept eating that crappy cake.

When we let ourselves have what is typically forbidden and scarce, it’s only natural to eat a whole lot of it, to maybe even feel binge-y with it, even if it's not satisfying.

Understandably, my very wise brain believed, “I need to eat all of this cake now, no matter what, because I don’t know when I’m going to get cake again!”

Of course, this didn’t just happen this one time. It frequently happened with my other off-limits foods.

My all-or-nothing approach to eating made me feel out-of-control, guilty and ashamed. And, it provided false evidence that I couldn’t be trusted with food and needed to pull the reins in tighter.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. It was simply a very natural human response to deprivation and scarcity.

Crappy cake felt better than no cake at all.