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CAKE, PLEASE?

December 18, 2012

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The holidays stress me out for many reasons. Most are dumb reasons like not enough money, or too much family ‘togetherness’. Dumb stuff that I really have no right sweating because I have a great life and a killer family, but at any rate it’s easy stuff to talk about. My main stressor is food though, which for some reason is really hard for me to talk about. Like, really.

I think that like most women, or most privileged women maybe, I have a really unhealthy and complicated relationship with food. I love cooking and I love eating but one or the other is always on my brain. Like, always. When the holidays roll around, this already borderline-obsessive behavior gets compounded by social situations (even comfortable ones) and I spend my all time thinking about eating, or not eating. The ramifications of eating or not eating. What I should be eating, or not eating. What I actually am eating, or not eating. What people are thinking about my food choices. It’s exhausting, but i can’t seem to turn it off. 

I feel like eating and shame are almost always linked for me, and the mental hurdles I need to get over to just not hate myself for eating are at times really insurmountable. Sometimes they won’t let me leave the house. Or stop crying. Or various other melodramatic things. They make me hate my physical self and that hate weighs on my mental self. Self loathing never ends well guys.

I guess this seems dramatic but it is real for me, and I would wager, many other women as well. I don’t have an eating disorder but I do have a really unhealthy relationship to food that manifests itself in nearly every moment of my life and upon which my self worth is precariously perched. I feel stupid for feeling this way too. I know that I am capable and talented and pretty well adjusted. I have killer friends, a supportive family and a husband who thinks I’m amazing. But I still feel it and it is still hard to talk about.

I read THIS article today and it really resonated with me. It made me want to write about this issue on my stupid blog, even though no one reads it. Maybe acknowledgement is the first step to self acceptance? Oh Lord, I sound like a hippie.

Uugh. Pass the cake, please.

 (photo credit: Crystal Renn for Vogue Paris by Terry Richardson)