A Journey of Weight Found and Lost: Day 10

::: This post is part of a 30-day series of posts by G&G guest contributor LA. :::

There is no such thing as eating in secret.

I listened to a talk once by a woman I still refer to as a raving lunatic. I was embarrassed for the meeting organizer to have even selected her to speak. Among the things shared, she said how she’d go in the closet and scarf down Snickers in her own home, hiding from her husband and son. She wanted everyone in the audience to agree that they’d done something similar. It was disturbing. She clearly was SO PROUD of herself for so many things and while I strongly believe that we should rejoice in ourselves…that wasn’t what was happening here. If I had not driven a friend to this ‘presentation’ I would have gotten up and left. Afterward she admitted she’d have left if not with me. It was just abominable. In typical LA fashion I couldn’t let it go, and put this rough stone in the cranial lapidary and let it begin to smooth the edges until it sparkled with new thoughts.

She spoke so much of eating in secret and how she had struggled to lose weight and was surprised by her struggle. And it struck me.

There is no such thing as eating in secret. I believe this with such absolute strength and without any exception

I’m going to say it again.

There is no such thing as eating in secret.

 Calories eaten in shame…and that most certainly is what any secret eating is dipped in…show up on your body just the same as those eaten with ownership and accountability. 

My getting 13 doughnuts and only having them box 12 when I bring doughnuts into the office when I am traveling to share with my team in a meeting doesn’t mean the calories from the maple bar or Boston Crème that I scarfed down ashamedly either hunched in the back of the shop or in a few quick bites on the street so no one would see me eating it don’t land on my thighs. Sure, I walk in the door with a full dozen in the taped box and appear to have only one doughnut from the box in front of others later. But my butt surely showed the evidence of two. Or more.

I recall so many times, SO many times, when I would eat only part of something and take the rest home for ‘tomorrow’ but instead eat it standing over my kitchen sink an hour or less after coming home. I had told myself stories that somehow the pounds of food eaten in secret were invisible. But they were not. Are not. Never will be. And it doesn’t matter that I am not hunched in my closet scarfing down a bag of Snickers (ick!) as the loony speaker did, I was still eating in ashamed secret.

And because it’s how I roll, I often swing the pendulum from one extreme to the other while I am trying to find my center balance. And it got to the point that if I was alone, I had a hard time eating. Because I didn’t want to be hiding what I ate. I didn’t want to be denying calories because no one had seen them enter my mouth.

Now I have reached that place where I am fine eating alone. I can put the same things on my plate solo or with others. And if I am out and want something decadent I will order without apology or explanation. I follow my own rules of portion and bites and ENJOY. No guilt. No penance. Owning my choices. And feeling good about them.

Via Pinterest/University of Illinois Extension
Via Pinterest/University of Illinois Extension

 

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