Chocolate for fat people?!

Since I’ve last posted, I’ve had a troubling, food related conflict. Can I dump on you, dear readers? Can I model what I suggest you should do—to express yourselves and reach out for support?

Colleague conflict

I love good chocolate. So it follows that at holiday time I’d want to share the joy as holiday gifts to some providers that refer to my practice. (Remember, this dietitian has a cupcake as the mainpage image on her website. What harm in that, I thought?

Yet in sharing my intentions with a nutritionist colleague, I heard a very different perspective. Namely, that many office employees are trying to lose weight—so chocolates are the last thing they need. Those who are obese hardly need the box of chocolate sitting around the office. And since many are so anti-sugar these days, giving chocolates is simply a bad idea.

Once I moved from my totally speechless state (a rarity with me), I tried to be open-minded. Is it diet sabotage to give a box of chocolates to be eaten in an office with many employees—i.e. with little opportunity to squirrel them away, in the season of New Year’s weight loss goals? Was I sending the wrong message as a promoter of health, that chocolate—ok, they weren’t even exclusively heart-healthy 70% cacao-dark chocolates but simply great tasting Belgian chocolates—are an acceptable snack?

Further, can those of high BMIs be given chocolate (or cakes/cookies/highly-palatable foods)? Are they entitled to enjoy the pleasure of great tasting desserts? Should anyone, regardless of their size or percent body fat be given chocolates as gifts? I mean, should we even be allowed to eat foods we truly enjoy?

Must we live an ascetic life of food deprivation and denial—whether for short-term weight change or for life? Is that a healthy lifestyle? Are we doomed to live secret lives—the model kale-salad-protein-smoothie-ingester in public and guilt-laden, binge eater by night or by car ride?

Still on the fence?

Perhaps Jamie’s Christmas surprise will do the trick. This patient’s sorrow and shame was revisited in my office post holiday, as she described her Christmas disappointment. Her three siblings dug into their chocolate-filled stockings, while she rummaged through hers. Only hers was filled not with her favorite candies but with plastic items.  No chocolate indulgence for this overweight young woman. A helpful, healthy holiday message? I don’t think so. A supportive gesture? Hardly.

Let us not for a moment believe that we are not entitled to enjoy life’s simple food pleasures. Yes, you. Yes, regardless of your size.

For me, the conflict’s resolved.

And for you?

Self-parenting and your relationship with food.

Because you’re more than just dust and ashes.

How long could you have stayed in bed
with this look?

I was lying in bed contemplating this long overdue post, when he started to whine. “I’ll be up soon, go lie down”, I barked to my canine. If he really needed to go out or to eat, I knew I’d hear from him again soon. And so he hunkered down, curling up comfortably in his bed. And I scored one in an attempt to get my needs met, namely more desperately needed sleep.

Only my head was too filled with other things. There’s this post to write, for instance, and food shopping to do, household chores, and… So my need for sleep was bypassed.

And what does this have to do with you?

Get a little help from your friends.

Most of you, it seems, struggle with meeting your needs or are dependent on others to realize your needs. But I don’t mean simply your nutrient needs.

Regardless of your age, you need parenting of sorts. Or call it nurturing. And compassion. And validation. And if you no longer have parents, or your parents don’t rise to the occasion to provide these necessary supports, then you need to find them elsewhere—from your friends, your community, your providers. And you need to provide them for yourself.

Where’s the compassion? 

Can’t we treat ourselves they way we wish others would have treated us? Can’t we say things to ourselves like the supportive words we say (or wish we would say) to our close friends and loved ones? Consider this:

“A person should have two pieces of paper, one in each pocket, to be used as necessary. On one of them [is written] ‘The world was created for me,’ and on the other, ‘I am dust and ashes.’” 
–Reb Simhah Bunim, Przysucha Poland, (1765-1827)

You just might need to give yourself a hug.

I’ve always loved this saying, which emphasizes the need to be neither too haughty and self important nor to minimize your value in the world. The problem, though, is that most clients I see struggling with eating issues err on the side of focusing on the ‘dust and ashes’.

Must you, must we, dismiss the positives, focusing only on our failures? You are not just making excuses seeking to justify your behaviors, when you acknowledge your positives. Understanding informs you where you need to go next, where the barriers need to be broken.

Where’s your voice? 

I realize I have little experience with this one, as I learned a style of communicating that perhaps errs on the side of over vocal. I know, I know, filtering has its benefits. But keeping your thoughts and feelings inside does nothing to aid your relationship with food. It festers (I love this word), defined as eats away, gnaws away, putrefies, becomes infected).

Sure, you can plan what you’re going to eat, and you may follow through. You can organize your eating, and that surely helps. But failing to release those pent up thoughts and feelings only contributes to your struggle with food. Because overeating or food restriction—yes either one—can feel like the antibiotic that remedies the problem. Only the disorder has become resistant to this so-called antibiotic, and is ineffective as a long-term treatment.

The way I see it, communicating is a necessary component of recovery. But if you aren’t yet up for speaking your thoughts, at least express them—through journaling, music or art. Be creative—there’s not a right way to release what you are holding inside.

Not even aware of what you’re feeling? Just starting the creative process may make you aware. Or maybe you need one of these to identify your emotions.

Where’s the self-acceptance? 

Self-acceptance doesn’t mean staying stuck. It isn’t synonymous with accepting that you just can’t change the way things are. Rather, it means accepting what’s in your hands to change and knowing when you need to gather the supports to help you move on. It means setting realistic goals given the trauma work you’re doing, or the crises at home or the multiple hats you’re wearing day-to-day. It means appreciating even a gradual move in a healthier direction, versus viewing your progress as all or nothing.

He's got me at last.And we both really need it.

I think I’ll go snuggle with my dog now. He needs it. And I could use it too on this rainy, dreary day. The laundry and shopping will just have to wait.