Beyond Sneaky

When I was a teen and began struggling with food, one of my largest issues was needing to "sneak" food. I would take my bike to town and buy a bag of donuts or candy, and go sit by the library and eat as quickly and as much as I could. Then I would hide the bag. After any particularly stressful night, I would quietly go into the kitchen and try sneak cookies or cake. I became a master at setting the lid quietly on the cookie jar. Sometimes my mom and dad would hear me and my mom would holler out, "out of the cookie jar!" My dad would also stalk me in the kitchen when I cooked, making sure I guess, that I wasn't snooping any of the food. Meat was my biggie. I loved a piece of hamburger with salt on it and the minute he'd leave, I'd quickly make myself some and devour it.

I followed this same pattern into my marriage. Sneaking pizzas into the oven after dh went to bed. Hiding bags of candy around the house and locking myself in rooms to eat them. Going to town and buying donuts or candy or ice cream and quickly eating it before I would come home. All the while, "hiding" the evidence.

It became a game. An unhealthy one, but one at which I was a master player.

And that's what I'm working so hard to undo today.

By legalizing food, I am in reality saying "no" to the side of myself that plays the game. Saying I am allowed to eat when I am hungry.

Period.

I wish with all my heart that my mom had had a better relationship with food, so that she wouldn't have put this on me. She still thinks she's fat and is always on the next diet or the latest craze. She is 67. And she is far from fat. She isn't even overweight. I wish she would have come out of her room and talked with me. And let me eat in her presence. It must have stirred up too many feelings about herself. So we never talked. I talk with my girls for this very reason. They also eat what they want, when they want. All are at healthy weights. None will weigh themselves. They know who they are and they do not judge themselves based on their weight.

And my dh.

Our history has made it difficult for me to eat around him. To not sneak food. I feel like he's always watching and analyzing every morsel I put in my mouth, every decision I make. He doesn't trust me.

Last night I wanted a dessert I'd made. I had finished my late supper and was well within my hunger guidelines. I went upstairs and was carefully and quietly pulling the container out of the fridge so that he wouldn't hear. And I thought, "no, I am ALLOWED to eat". Over and over I said that. I set the pan on the counter, I got a bowl out of the cupboard, and I scooped myself some. Trying to do this as if I had no hang-ups. It was terribly, terribly hard. My heart was pounding. I was sweating. I wanted to run with every fiber of my being. I forced myself to stand there and continue. I put the pan back in the fridge and just as I did, dh came out of the bedroom. I knew he would. He heard me getting food, so he had to check up on me.

Normally I would have quickly gotten to the stairs and gone down. This time I forced myself to walk slowly down, as I felt him behind me looking. Hardest thing I've ever done. To allow myself to eat. To say "It's ok, people eat". But I did it.

It's going to take some time, patience, and love to undo all this damage. One decision at a time.

And for the record? It was the best dessert I've eaten. I savored every. single. bite.

Without too much guilt and without ripping myself apart.