No, today’s post isn’t about what goes on behind closed doors.
But it is about satisfaction, and the air of entitlement I’ve felt when it comes to food since losing weight—which I feel has contributed to some of my disordered eating behaviors.
In many ways, I really do believe that ignorance is bliss. Granted, back when I didn’t worry about calories, I surely wasn’t the picture of health. But I also wasn’t obsessed.
To be honest, before Weight Watchers, I don’t know how I ate. I don’t remember; I just “ate.” Obviously I was chubby, so it was clearly “too much”.
But I know I didn’t think about food a lot. I surely didn’t weigh or measure anything, and I can guarantee I didn’t base my day around my meals.
I remember I used to drink two Snapples a day and have a peppermint-mocha and shortbread cookie after work at Caribou Coffee with one of my best friends a couple times a week. (What’s a calorie?!)
I don’t recall making breakfast a priority, and I ate lunch out most days (usually a sandwich from a café, or a salad). I didn’t cook much back then—I know that much!—so dinners were not planned in advance, and if an invitation sprang up, I jumped on it. Snacks were usually on a whim; I never kept food at work or in my purse for an “emergency”.
And while I can remember what being “stuffed” felt like (as in, falling into a post-Maggiano’s or Cheesecake Factory coma with friends), I honestly never thought about satisfaction levels or the emotional connection to food. It was just that: food. Continue reading “Getting Satisfied”