When Food Isn't Love . . .

When Food Isn't Love...

Well. Y'all. Where to start?

Some of you know me as the Foodie Girl who writes about restaurants, loves to eat out and enjoys dining from high to low and commenting on it. I've certainly been spoiled by myself and the Sweet Man especially, among other boyfriends, as far as my dining habits of the last five or so years. My current work in the restaurant world has largely grown out of how I cottoned to being in such places, learning about what I like, what's new, what I might want to try or recommend to others . . .

Some of you, however, know me as the Girl Who Has Eating Issues (from way back, 20+ years now) and may also know that when I am busy or most particularly stressed - I don't eat. I always recognize and appreciate good food and well-plated dishes - from the simplest taco or burger to the fanciest dish of you-name-it - but I struggle to be able to take it in, for real.

Do I understand the physical need for calories? Of course. Do I want to be healthy? Yes. Do I remember what it was like to be anorexic (and a varsity athlete) from 14 to 17 and eat an apple a day, with my diet pills and Diet Coke? Oh, yes. Do I remember what it was like to be bulimic in spurts, interspersed with the anorexia or anorexic behavior? The cool tile of the linoleum floor is forever imprinted on my brain.

I think part of why I got into the "food" world (beyond the fact that I entertained clients back in the day when I was in insurance sales then started eating out on my own after my divorce) was to try to heal myself. And it's opened up all kinds of horizons and vistas - from my semester in Rome, which I picked because you just can't tell an Italian chef that you want sauce on the side or any such silly Buckhead girl thing, to my current appreciation for everything from sushi to frog legs and of course, really good cheese! - and I am grateful for the strides I have made.

Yet. 

I still revert to ancient habits. I have to make myself think of food in colors - What have I had today? What do I need? How many bites can I make myself take?

Here's the real issue: when I was 15 or even 25 - "getting skinny" delighted me. Heck, it's still nice. Any girl who doesn't admit to liking (or having) her skinny jeans is lying. But now it worries me - I'm not sure that at 5'8" I should be able to wear my size four Marc Jacob pants that I wore the year I got divorced (they aren't as loose as then but still . . .). Especially if it's because I'm on my feet six to fourteen hours a day at work and barely have (or find) time to eat . . . How do I better cope with stress, anger, grief, what have you? How do I get past my very long-standing coping mechanism of denial-and-skinny-jeans-are-good??

I don't really know. Down twenty or so pounds in recent months and struggling to find a balance - right now, food is not love. It should be - it is supposed to be. Food should be and represent nourishment, life and joy. 

It shouldn't be the enemy.

Food for thought.

Thinking about what's for dinner . . .

Yours,
Love Bites,

Carrie Neal