The Downside of Intuitive Eating

I don't talk about my Intuitive Eating journey often enough on here. Part of that, I think, is that in real life I frequently have to defend my way of eating, which makes me want to hold tighter to the parts of it that stay personal. But lately I have been struck many times by the downside of the process. Downside? There isn't supposed to be one! But, as with everything else in life, there are pretty parts and not-so-pretty parts, and sometimes they are even the same thing.

Family tension: My family doesn't eat like I do. They don't even understand my new way of eating. If I refuse dessert because I am not hungry or it doesn't sound wonderful, someone comments, "Jenny is trying to be good." Um, no, I am not...I think eating choices are morally neutral...I am just not hungry! Frequently if I don't put something on my plate, it's personal to the cook, and if my meal doesn't look 'balanced' I sometimes get a speech on the subject (as does Nate, who is the most intuitive eater I know...but at family dinners, there are veggies, fruit, chips and salsa out and he eats bunches of those and then when it is 'dinner time' he eats only meat...and gets a speech about it, every time. Um...he already had the other food groups? And what he eats is none of your business??!!). To be fair, this situation is getting better. I think my family has given up.

Inability to commiserate: Eat something not 'on your diet'? I could care less. Moaning and groaning about your belly? Really, I think your belly is fine. I think mine is fine, too. I don't care to sit around wallowing in self-hate, denial and false hopes. I actually think it's stupid to starve yourself or try to follow some formula. This does not make me popular.

Inability to eat emotionally: What?! But I thought that was the GOAL of this whole thing? Well, yeah, but do you realize what that means? It means...that when I am sad, chocolate is irrelevant. That some people who care about me can't make me happy by giving me Ghirardelli. I have to find new ways to cope. I am no fun at all-women ice-cream pity-parties. Chocolate sits in my cupboard or night table long enough that it has to be thrown out. In some ways that is very sad.

It's a bone of contention: Generally, what I believe about food and body size shouldn't be a point of argument, but it has become so at times. For instance, Raoul was coming over one evening. I asked him to bring me a cheeseburger. I don't eat cheeseburgers often but that night it really sounded good. What did he bring me? Nuts and berries. I kid you not. I insisted that nuts and berries are no 'better' or 'healthier' than a cheeseburger, but this was brushed aside. Of course they must be better for you! After all, you can pick them right off a vine! Um, no, actually, if one's body demands a cheeseburger, nuts and berries are not going to satisfy, no matter how 'healthy' they are deemed by some expert or another. And no, I don't really care that our ancestors and even some people on the planet today survive on that kind of diet, you can't listen to my stomach and you have no right to tell me what to eat. I could barely choke down a few nuts and berries and had to go to bed hungry (carless, mother hubbard me that evening, or I would have done something about that). Granted, not everyone is as conceited and self-righteous as my ex-boyfriend, but still, the need to shout "You're not the boss of me!" does pop up from time to time. Sometimes it isn't a friend or relative so much as it is society and situations...like at work, where the choice of convenience food is yucky vending-machine fare or the 'healthy food' table that only has granola bars and dried fruit...and this girl needs protein! So I have to go with the yucky Jenny-hating vending machine and be deemed 'that girl who is so fat because she eats hot pockets'. Well, no one has said that aloud, but you know how society makes you feel.

It won't make me skinny, and it ain't fast: Intuitive eating will never make me skinny. If I hadn't screwed with my metabolism to begin with, then perhaps I could intuitively eat myself to a socially acceptable weight, but I did screw with my metabolism and I have no delusions about what that means. I will be fat the rest of my life. I am ok with that now, but other people are not. The Navy, for instance. Nate's Sea Cadet unit could sure use another uniformed adult...but my body is, according to Navy regs, "a disgrace to the uniform." As if body size is, again, a moral issue? Um, no, thanks anyway. And other women are always assuming that I am trying to get thin. Nope! Wasted enough years on that, thanks! But then again, it is hard to give up the diet dreams, plus it is yet another way that I am different from the women around me.

The worst part? When angry at things like this, potato chips are no help. Sigh.

It makes special occasions harder: I almost didn't eat my own birthday cake this year. I wasn't hungry. It didn't even sound good, even though I had asked for it. I finally ate a small piece just to be polite, but I have grown to dislike doing such things. I know that naturally thin, intuitively-eating people eat when they are not hungry, and that is what I told myself, but I guess now that I am listening to my body, it's hard to argue with it.

It's more work sometimes: Starving myself is not an option, even for convenience's sake. Although I do struggle with this from time to time, the right thing to do is feed my hungry body. This is especially hard when I am home alone. Cooking a whole meal for one person who isn't even going to say thank you? What fun is that? But the other night I did make myself cook up a great chicken-pepper stir fry (with nuts...leftover from the anti-cheeseburger ex-boyfriend). It was wonderful, and I was so glad that I had done that. It hit the spot perfectly. But most days, I just want the hunger to go away rather than a cooking/eating experience. I have to learn to take better care of myself than that.

All in all, I still choose this path. I am free from the bondage of emotional eating, food rules and regulations, self-hate, despair, false hopes...it's wonderful! Freedom is a tasty thing :-)

Say Goodbye to Raoul

Capping off one of the worst weeks of my life, Raoul and I decided last night not to see each other anymore. He was unwilling to compromise on his lifestyle and I was unwilling to compromise on my beliefs and all in all, it seemed time to let go. I had told him in the beginning that I wanted this relationship to be something we could both look back on without regret, knowing we both gained something in the process, if not in the end. I am not sure I can do that quite yet. I think, though, that my regrets are the kind I can live with. I loved too quickly, I hoped too strongly, I believed too easily. I can live with that.

Raoul and the Boys

Raoul had already met my dad and his family (minus Li'l Sis as she was away at camp), but until last night had not yet met my children. To be honest, I was petrified. The boys are outspoken to say the least, and I was afraid one or both would say something terribly embarrassing. I wanted all parties to leave the evening figuring they could spend more time with the others.

Fortunately, even though the boys were a tad goofy, everyone got along just fine. Now, at times that was at my expense, but that is a small price to pay. Raoul beat the socks off the rest of us at Scrabble. Dinner was acceptable. I unilaterally vetoed any Twister suggestions. All went pretty well and I think future 'dates' of this nature are possible.

So, in case no one noticed, the one-year anniversary of this blog's beginnings passed this week!

Raoul

I am sure many of my readers noticed an absence of new posts in the last week. Astute observers may suspect that this absence coincides with the appearance of Raoul. They would be correct. Please forgive the twitterpated rambling that is about to ensue...

Raoul and I met in early December when I began my new job 'for real'. He was temporarily assigned the task of wandering around, helping out newbies like me. Anyone who knows me knows I ask a LOT of questions and he quickly became one of my favorite answer-people. He struck me as smart and kind, and I apparently struck him as smart and attractive, which I did not suspect at the time. After the holiday rush was over he went back to his previous post and we saw very little of one another.

When I was temporarily assigned to a team adjunct to his, he stopped me in the hall to congratulate me. One would think that at this point I'd have noticed that he was paying attention to me, but I did not. Additionally, I apparently need to wear a sign that says, 'Yes, I AM single' because he says it took quite some time to find out that I was not married. Anyway, after that temporary assignment was over and I headed a new one, he mysteriously kept appearing near me on my lunch breaks. A couple of spots were opening up on his team and he encouraged me daily to apply. I was resistant (I think I noted that here) but Raoul was very encouraging and eventually when I opted to apply I sent him an email asking for interview-prep advice. At this point he cleverly obtained my home email address, which is a good thing, because I honestly don't think he would ever have asked me out at work. (we are still figuring out the complexities of dating a co-worker)

As you know, I got the job. This put us in the same place, or nearby anyhow, on almost the same schedule. We can't see each other from our hidey-holes but I can hear him pretty well and he makes me laugh. We started emailing about work stuff and eventually non-work stuff and eventually a lot of chatting online while at home, staying up too late and losing sleep because we were just having too much fun to go to bed.

It felt to me like it took him forever to ask me out on a date. I don't think he feels the same way, but that's ok. In any case, he is making up for lost time. We have been to the movies, out for coffee/tea, dancing (he is very patient and is teaching me to swing dance), hiking (well, I tried at any rate), walks in the park, etc. The boys have been gone for several days so I guess I have had a bit of a romantic-vacation-at-home. We'll have to go back to normal lives now, I suppose, but it's been fun.

Raoul is intelligent, funny, sweet, generous and patient. He makes me laugh and teaches me new things. He behaves like a gentleman. He bravely met half my family for dinner last night. He has a great smile and warm brown eyes. He's also a crazy driver and tells awful puns, just so you know I am not totally blind :-) Expect to hear more about him in future posts. (and I do hope he finds this one not-too-embarrassing)

The Good, the Bad, and a Non-Inspired Movie Review

I got to see Star Trek last night. My date, for whom I have yet to think of a pseudonym, asked me if I was going to blog a review, and I informed him that my writing waits for inspiration. It's been a while since I blogged, however, so, the sum total of my review of Star Trek is this: What is it with JJ Abrams and giant, suspended-in-mid-air balls of red liquid? The date and the movie were both great. So what's bad? The fact that my washing machine hose keeps popping off the machine, spewing water all over my basement floor! I just can't get the darned thing to stay in place. (Addendum: my date informs me that his pseudonym is Raoul)