I grew up in a house full of women. My mother, my grandmother, my great-grandmother and my sister. I remember distinctly that there were unwritten rules about food and while most of it was not blatant, it was the fabric on which my internal rules as a child, youth and adult were created.
Food was an interesting topic growing up because I had such sharp contrasting messages from adults. If we were visiting at my grandmother's home, it was the same 7 meals every 7 days. I could count on fish on Friday, hot dogs and beans on Saturday, and either spaghetti and meatballs or homemade
chicken pot pie on Sundays...and white bread. Tons of soft, squishy white bread with butter and sugar. There was no quantity control at Nana's and so my sister and I would eat to our hearts (and bellies) content - and the pounds would increase and then there were consequences. Message I walked away with: If someone loves you, they will let you eat whatever you want and not put any restrictions on it.
In my mother's home, there were different messages. If I was ill, it was comfort food that was served and I believe that is where my addiction to using food when I was unhappy likely began. If you are sad, have something to eat. If you are disappointed, have something to eat. If you are bored, cook something. Messages I learned: Food has an emotional connection that I have created by using it in a way it was not intended...and to this day, if I am sick, the first thing I want is mashed potatoes.
I remember food being used as a weapon of mass destruction. Namely my destruction!
I was probably 8 or 9 years old and I hated lasagna. I was particularly opposed to the curds in cottage cheese or ricotta cheese and when mixed with tomato sauce, it was a recipe for disaster. I could not even stomach it in any way and would find anything I could to find a way to get out of having to eat it. One evening I was particularly clever, or so I thought, and came up with a brilliant plan!
I was sitting at dinner in a chair similar to the one photographed here and much like this chair, it had a tear in the vinyl. What happened next can only be described as the best thinking ever by an 8 year old....
I decided to take the lasagna, wrap it up in a napkin and put it in the tear in the chair. and cover it up with the remaining vinyl. It was a fool proof plan! I was sure it was going to work... and it did for several days until I heard " RACHEL MARIE KELLY ANNE GET IN HERE ! "
Now I am sure as many of you know, when a parent uses not only YOUR name but your siblings name in one continuous sentence someone is going to be in trouble sometime soon.
She marched us into the kitchen and there unwrapped like a sandwich having seen fresher days was the napkin with the lasagna in it and I was sure my mother's eyes were on fire. Since there were only 2 of us and my sister's alibi was airtight, I knew I was in some serious trouble...and I was. Funny some 40 years later, that incident is still tucked away in my mental memory box related to food.
The message for me was: Food is important! How dare you waste it! It does not matter if you don't like it, you need to eat it and finish what is on your plate. Funny how the lesson about lying to one's parents did not sink in nearly as much as the food lesson did.
There are also sweet memories about food and my love affair with it.
I remember birthdays for as many years as I can think back - always centered around food.
In our home it is a tradition that the birthday person gets to choose the meal that will be made for them. I have had delicious meals of chicken divan, shepherd's pie, tortier, and more cakes than one can shake a stick at. There was a certain " feel good" about food associated with family - most of all my Mom. I love her for the care she has shown me through her cooking and I am grateful that my food palette is as extensive as it is. She was bold in choosing news things for us to eat, some were hits, some were misses and I, like her, enjoy experimenting in the kitchen just as much as she does.
My love of Indian and Ethiopian food began with my Mom when I was 19 -and they are my favorite ethnic foods to this day.
I realize food has had power in my life. I put it there. I could "reward" myself when I had achieved a particular goal by going to dinner. I could "deny" myself when I felt unworthy. I could "treat" someone I cared for to a special night, almost always centered around food. I took in messages that "fat" people overeat all the time because they are lazy and unmotivated , that " thin" people never eat enough and that there is something wrong with someone who can eat anything at any time and never worry about it. And somehow, I wish I had THAT problem. :)
So today, my relationship with food is ever changing. I think about food more as a way of nurturing my spirit and body and not as a source of happiness, pleasure, comfort and replacement for true connection. I have had to come to my own understanding of the role food plays in my life . Questions I ask myself are : What magical thing do I think I am going to get out of this bag of Cheetos ? Why do I choose cheesecake instead of a connecting with a live person ? What need am I trying to fill with that box of (fill in the blank) ? As long as I continue to ask myself questions and seek to use food in a healthy way, it is much easier to avoid things like stress eating, comfort eating, mindless eating, anxious eating etc. I'm not perfect at it yet, but it is definitely helping.
If any of these hit home for you, maybe it is time to look at your relationship with food and decide for yourself if a change is needed. I'd love to hear your insights as we walk together on this journey towards healthier minds and bodies!
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