Afraid of Being Hungry

I'm afraid of being hungry. I don't like that emptied-out feeling or the nausea or the headache or the shaking when my blood sugar is too low. And I REALLY don't like the emotional panic that ensues when I feel it. 

Food is emotional for me. And for reasons I am uncovering as I dive into the emotional + physical connections to it, I am learning the little triggers that tell me why. 

Growing up, I remember coming home from school famished. Snacks were few and far between at our house. I can remember our kitchen. I can remember my mom being in the kitchen. Once in awhile that meant cookies, but most of the time it meant she was working on dinner. These were pre-microwave and crock-pot days. Dinner took effort and time. 

I was SO hungry when I got home. "Wait for dinner" often came as the answer if I asked for a snack. At some point I quit asking. And that's when I started hiding food. 

Bless my mom's heart. She wasn't an excellent cook. Salt and spices were uncommon additives at our house. Food was bland. Growing up I thought I very much disliked gravy, pancakes, or oatmeal. Syrup at our house was brown sugar melted into water on the stove. I haven't developed a taste for oatmeal, but I've learned to make a mean gravy, and pancakes are one of my favorite foods because real syrup is YUMMY. 

We operated under the "Clean your plate because people in China are starving" rule. I would be so hungry by the time we got to the table, I would gladly clean my plate. I just learned not to savor any flavor while I was doing so. Just eat it and get full and don't taste it. Gulp. Eat fast. Get it over with. You won't be hungry any more! 

I stopped tasting. I didn't take time to taste it. I just ate. And I ate way too much. A 9" plate is for pies, not a child's dinner. But I ate it. And I wondered if people in China really were starving. 

Bless my mom's heart, she tried. And bless my dad's heart, he always told her he loved it. He never wanted to hurt her feelings. For years, she burned the roast on purpose because the first time she made a roast for him, it burned and he told her he loved it. 

In my child's mind, my basic needs weren't being met. My mother, who was supposed to love and meet my needs, including nourishment, didn't do it. That's ridiculous, I know, but when you're a hungry kid, stories get built into your head and you practice thinking they are true. 

As an adult, I avoid hunger at all costs. It makes me panic. It means my basic needs aren't being met. And if my basic needs aren't being met, then I'm not being loved. If I'm not loved then I must have done something to deserve not being loved. Oh Lord, I'm BAD! Don't get hungry. Hunger equals BAD. 

In Oprah's book, The Path Made Clear, David Brooks asks the question of us: Is what we're doing degrading or elevating?  This hit me over the head like a one pound hamburger. The way I eat, the choices I make, are they degrading to me or elevating for me? 

What would happen, if I asked myself this question every time I put food in my mouth? Is this choice degrading or elevating to my body and my soul? Degrading is scarfing my food without really tasting it, and stuffing my body so full I don't feel anything. It comes with shame and sleepiness. I feel like a glutton and a sloth, and I want to hide. Then I find I am falsely believing I don't NEED loved, and I choose not to be, avoiding others. 

But if I made the decision to elevate myself with food choices.... what would that look like? Can food and eating actually elevate me? My mood? My self-confidence? My feelings about who I am? 

Oh hell yes! 

What if I taste it? What if I choose NOT to eat it when I don't like it? What if I'm more careful about what I choose to eat? What if I eat enough to overcome hunger, and not overeat so that I overcome shame? What if I choose meeting my own basic needs....to nourish, to feed, to enjoy, to love mealtime, and as a result, love me?

I'll be elevated. My mood. My body. My choices. My heart. 

I think it's important to ask every time I'm eating, if it is elevating, or degrading. And pray over it. If I can't ask it to be blessed, then I shouldn't be putting it in my mouth, should I? 

This was an enlightening discovery for me. I'm going to write the words elevate or degrade on my refrigerator. I'm going to face hunger head on. I'm not going to be afraid. I am loved. I am nourished. My needs are met. 

I think that those of us who struggle with eating issues have to take a look deep inside to discover our why so that we can have a healthy relationship with food. I'm encouraged. I hope this encourages you, too. 

Any diet works when you are ready to do it. I've been on the merry-go-round for too long. Lose. Gain. Exercise. Get lazy. Get fit. Get fat. 

I've never REALLY overcome the fear of hunger. 

My goal? Develop a healthy relationship with food. Not a weight loss or work out goal. Just a goal for my mental health that is going to result in GOOD physical health. And God will be pleased. Even He says He enjoys a tasteful aroma of things cooking. :-)