Coming Clean: Tales of a Disordered Eater

There are many words in the English language that I don’t like.

Topping the list is the word “diet.”

In its truest form, “diet” simply refers to what we eat.

From the Webster’s: diet –noun 1. food and drink considered in terms of its qualities, composition, and its effects on health: Milk is a wholesome article of diet.

2. a particular selection of food, esp. as designed or prescribed to improve a person’s physical condition or to prevent or treat a disease: a diet low in sugar.

I know I use the word in both those ways.

However, one could also argue I also use it in the third sense of the word: 3. such a selection or a limitation on the amount a person eats for reducing weight.

But still … even though I’ve been diligently tracking Points on Weight Watchers (”the anti-diet diet”) for the past 4.5 years (pretty much maintaining my weight for the past 3.5), I don’t consider myself to be “on a diet.” It’s simply how I eat now: my “diet” in the most literal sense of the word.

Honestly, I just eat differently, healthier than I used to. I don’t need to be perfect; a life without chocolate or pretzels would suck. There’s room for those things in any “diet.”

And is it such a bad thing if “dieting” leads to a change in “diet?” Despite all the disordered eating battles many of us face, chances are we eat a lot healthier now, right?

I’m not ashamed of Weight Watchers, the program that helped me lose weight and keep it off. I have never felt deprived. In fact, if anything, such a “diet” (in the “weight loss” sense) is what helped change my “diet” in the literal sense, for the better.

So pardon me for pulling a Carrie Bradshaw here, but I had to wonder …When did the word “diet” become such a dirty word?

I mean, today, when you use the word “diet,” people tend to assume you mean “weight-reduction regimen,” conjuring up all sorts of negative images such as starving celebrities, crash diets, Fat Flushes, etc.

And deprivation. And unhappiness. And regaining the weight back because whatever someone tried, failed miserably at keeping it off.

It doesn’t have to be this way … but we live in a society that is ridiculously obsessed with images of skeleton chests, protruding clavicles, shoulder blades you could snag yourself on, and jutting hip bones.

So-called “pregnorexic” women who go overboard on dieting and exercise, putting their baby’s health at some risk … then give birth, and like two days later are in fighting-form, all because they fought nature and didn’t allow their bodies to naturally change as they went through their pregnancies. (GR.)

Sadly, “dieting” is a national past-time here in America, as commonplace as baseball and apple pie.

Is it an overstatement to say every woman is, in some sense, “on a diet” or “watching what she eats” even if she doesn’t realize it out loud? This assertment comes from my little sis the social worker and my own little expert on behavioral science … and I have to gather she’s on to something.

C’mon, you know what I’m talking about. A bunch of girls go out to eat one night. Perhaps one “virtuously” orders a bowl of soup (and maybe she goes home and tears into the leftover lasagna in the fridge and the half-gallon of Edy’s Loaded Peanut Butter Cup … not that I’d know what that’s like, ha!) …

And then the others then fall into the unnecessary justification trap of, “Oh I guess I’ll be the ‘bad’ one today!” or “I reallllllllllllllly want XYZ … but no, I shouldn’t.” (Says who? Why not?)

They hem and haw and debate, finally settling on something they know they “will feel guilty about tomorrow.”

And then there’s probably one or two easy-going women in the group who will order whatever it is her little heart wants, but (sanely) eat a small portion of it and move on, not thinking twice about it.

This woman doesn’t have “food issues” but rather just eats smartly. She’s the exception to disordered eating rules, and she’s who I would love to be someday.

I envy her.

Truth is, it’s pretty rare today to find a woman who honestly, genuinely, truly, pinkie-promise can eat a cheeseburger, fries, and milkshake and not have an ounce of guilt associated with it or think twice about ordering it.

(And if I’m being honest here, that meal totally wouldn’t do it for me. If I could order ANYTHING out … and calories didn’t count … it’d be a glass of Guwerztraminer, crusty bread with EVOO, chicken rollatini or manicotti from one of the amazing Italian restaurants back home in northern N.J … followed by a slice of cheesecake with whipped cream and hot fudge. Yup, that’s my “dream meal” last eaten … over five years ago).

Even if you see a woman eating such a meal and she doesn’t appear flustered, there’s a good chance that was her meal of the day … or that she’ll compensate for it by (naturally) eating less tomorrow.

God I’d love to be “that girl.”

The problem I’m experiencing now is like many of you, I’ve changed what I choose to eat the past four and a half years. Not everything is worth it anymore. And unfortunately, sometimes this makes what I eat stand out.

While I follow Weight Watchers, I don’t consider myself to be “on a diet.” I know I have 35 extra Points each week so it’s not like I’m wed to the minimum 20 Points per day. I eat a “diet” (literal sense) of mostly lean proteins, whole grains, fruits, veggies, and healthy fats and even on Flex, can usually meet most of the recommended guidelines, even with treats and blips on the radar; it’s all journaled whether it’s eaten at 2 a.m. or 9 p.m.

That said, my mother-in-law has been asking me lots of questions about “my diet” (weight-loss sense) because she sees me only eating one meal a day and has no idea what I’ve eaten the whole day. In her mind, I’m eating very “diety.”

Well, if I’m being honest, the truth is, lately by dinner-time, I’m left with practically no Points for dinner, thanks to anxiety-eating (or worse, spending 2 Points on chewing-spitting) during the day or an early morning workout that leaves me hungrier than usual.

It’s been my coping mechanism; eating the bulk of my food earlier in the day these past five weeks.

So if we’re not going out (in which case I use extra Points), or if they’re eating leftovers of stuff I won’t touch, I whip up a quickie dinner (Thomas Light, fruit, and an egg plus an egg white) and call it a night.

Hence, when she asks me about my “diet” I get really irritated.

This is not how I “normally” eat, but with them here, it’s become my “safety dinner.” It means I can be polite and sit with them, but not eat the things they eat that I never ate (I don’t like beans, rice, tortillas, pupusas, etc. and never have).

I wish the word “diet” didn’t bother me so much, but the word really irks me when I hear it. I think it’s because I really believe I’ve made a lifestyle change, changing my “diet” and it grates on me when it appears as though I am “dieting.”

True, I still live/exist within some parameters to help me maintain my weight. But I’ve managed to lessen some of my disordered eating behaviors these past few months by learning to be less obsessive about the “d” word.

Eh … perhaps someday we’ll all just eat, drink and be merry … like Dave Matthews asks of us in “Tripping Billies.”

That’ll be the day.

How about you? Does the word “diet” irk you, too? Do you feel like you’ve transcended the common usage of the word, so now it means “what I eat”? How have you shaken the “diet” stigma?