When You Are a Food Addict, Everyone Is a Dealer

I’m a food addict.

Yeah, go ahead, laugh. You know you want to.

The phrase “food addiction” causes lots of people to eye-roll.

“Really? A food addict?

Have you tried to just…stop eating?”

Marvelous advice.

But I get it.

It’s difficult to understand.

How come a person finds herself irresistibly drawn to food in such a way that it is impossible to stop?

I’m an addict.

I’m addicted to a substance that’s everywhere.

It’s sold at every corner.

People keep it at their homes.

Friends, colleagues, and family members offer it to me, regularly, sometimes really pushing.

“Come on, just this time, just for me. Look, everybody is having some.”

“One bite is not going to kill you.”

Suddenly, eating a piece of cake becomes an expression of love or friendship. And if you don’t make an exception for this person, you are a jerk. You are being vain, selfish, blah, blah, blah.

I’m addicted to junk food. Me, the woman who writes about wellness.

Refined sugars, chips, chocolate…you name it. And yes, in case you were wondering, I did try to stop when I felt full. But that feeling of satisfaction rarely came to me.

So I decided to approach this as an addict. After all, that’s what I am.

I cut it off. Completely.

In the past, I had tried an “only-on-special-occasions” approach. You know, to break the rules on birthdays and other kinds of celebrations. This led to a lot of exceptions. Turns out, people find all sorts of reasons to engage in unhealthy foods. For better and for worse, food is one of our favorite methods to bond with our tribe, a ritual we share, and that lets us know we are part of the team.

Also, this would cause decision fatigue because I would continually have to evaluate the situation: Can I make an exception? How much? Under which circumstances? How often?

I came to a realization: It’s just easier to say no. All the time.

“Do you want some cake? "

"No, thank you.”

“Do you want half of this bowl of chips? "

"No, thank you.”

“Here, I got you a candy bar. "

"Thank you for thinking of me, but I no longer eat those.”

This is way easier because it becomes automatic. The second someone offers me some unhealthy food, the word “no” immediately pops out of my mouth. No need to think about it.

Does this work? Well, two years and 68 pounds later I can tell you that yes, it works. Of course, there is an exercise program involved. Of course, I have fallen off the wagon a couple of times (all of them caused by making exceptions). Yes, there still are 8 pounds to go. And yes, there’s some tweaking to do when it comes to the foods I do eat…but the “no exceptions” system definitively works.

There is a funny thing, though: people around me react in the most surprising ways. Some of them congratulate me. They will say, “good, you are taking care of your health. I wish I could do the same.” But others feel offended.

“What? Now you are trying to be skinny? "

"You don’t like my food, is that it?”

How do I get people to understand that it has nothing to do with them? That it is all about me? About getting rid of things I don’t want anymore.

And then there’s the “you only live once” camp.

“But the food is so delicious! You’ll regret depriving yourself of the good stuff!” I have to say, I fully agree with them…in a way.

It is true. You only live once, which is why I aspire to have a good quality of life. And yes, food is delicious. Food is an expression of art, which is why I want to indulge in nutritious, tasty foods, that will fill me with energy.

And yes, I do regret depriving myself of the good stuff. The actual good stuff. The stuff that won’t cause me to die a diabetic, as my grandmother did. That won’t trigger my IBS, which I have suffered for more years than I can count. The stuff that is helping my body heal from years of self-inflicted abuse.

I remember that every time I finished eating a large bag of fries…heck, my second large bag of the evening I felt… Do you know what I felt?

Nothing.

No joy. No pleasure. No satisfaction.

Just…more hunger. More emptiness.

Therefore, I’m going to keep on saying no…forever. There are so many things I want to be able to say yes to. And now, it really feels like I can reach them. I finally feel like I can be me.

Me. The recovering addict.

Me. The one that had to learn to say no.

Me. The one that is trying to find out the things that are worthy of a yes.

Me.