Radical Self-Love Instead of Resolutions

My friend and mentor Robyn Posin (forthelittleonesinside.com) often says that setting goals rather than forming open-ended intentions can lead to problems. Because we don't have the ability to predict the future, we can't know what will be right for us tomorrow.

Today though, you may have an idea that losing weight will make you happy in the future. Today, as the new year approaches, you may be setting a resolution to diet harder, to eat less, to exercise more, to get thinner.

I want to invite you to think about the last time you lost weight (and the time before that, and the time before that). Did you feel an initial rush of excitement as you fit into smaller clothes? Did your self-esteem go up as the number on the scale went down? Was there another feeling alongside or just under the excitement? Was there fear or worry, maybe even dread that you would not be able to sustain the behavior required to keep losing weight?

This is the conundrum that 95% of dieters face. Most of us can restrict our eating and up our exercise on January 1. Many of us can continue our “lifestyle changes” through January, even February. By March though, a lot of us are selling our exercise equipment on eBay. By April, we are in therapy wondering why we have failed again.

If this is you, please listen. You are not a failure. Diets have failed you. If you are an emotional eater, no diet will ever be able to address the underlying reasons why you reach for food to change your mood.

In 2012, you have an opportunity to look at your relationship with food and your body in a whole new way. Instead of viewing food or fat as an enemy to be conquered, what would it be like to open your heart in compassion and curiosity? What would it be like to feel a craving, but instead of fighting with yourself, to be a loving ally who asks, what am I really hungry for?

A few days ago, I was talking with my friend, Nadine, about how she quit smoking. She talked about having to let go of all the ideas in her head about quitting, and how even the word “quitting” was getting in the way for her. Instead she found the word “finished” as in, “Am I finished with smoking yet?”

I wonder if Nadine's discovery might be helpful in your process as well? When you feel a craving, what might happen if you ask yourself, “Am I finished feeding my emotions with food?”

If you choose to play with this language, please don't make being finished right and not being finished wrong. There is no right or wrong here. Maybe an even better question would be, "Am I ready to feed my emotions with love instead of food?"

However you phrase it, the question should help you get close to the part of you that has relied on food to feel okay, close enough to really feel into the need. Is the timing right to feel your emotions? Is the timing right to make a loving space for your needs? If the timing is right, then you might be finished feeding your emotions with food. And if the timing is not right, can you have your own tender and gentle permission to not be ready yet?

At the heart of these questions lies a fundamental stance, that you never deserve your own scorn, that anger and disgust will never motivate you, at least not for long, and that you always deserve your own lovingkindness, gentleness and support without any conditions.

Is 2012 the year you set an intention for radical self-love instead of making resolutions?

Emotional Pollution

I was in Briones Regional Park on my birthday, walking, feeling peaceful after listening to an audiobook by Eckhart Tolle. Three doggie visits into the walk, the bliss kept deepening, their puppy smiles and sweetness filling me up. My phone chimed with Facebook alerts, all happy birthday wishes. Life is good, I thought.

My mom called to say Happy Birthday. Then she got all instructional about how to take care of myself (because at 47, I apparently still don’t know how) and judgmental about my sisters (because that’s how she is). Since I can’t talk her out of her negativity, I kindly excused myself from the conversation – yay me! Still, a little emotional pollution got in. I refocused on the now, the woods, finding and photographing trees that look like they have faces.

I could hear a jogger coming, her footfalls, rhythmic and stomping as she loudly fought with her boyfriend on the phone. I heard her complaining about how he treats her, his negative judgment about her weight. She passed me. She was skinny and fit. And she was flooded with anger which leaked into the forest, into the trees, into me. I felt slimed. Once again, I redirected myself to the present moment, the music of the birds, the excitement of the squirrels in a bounty of acorns. I felt almost better.

As I came to the end of the trail, the jogger was there, stretching, still fighting, even louder. She didn’t know it was my birthday. Didn’t know she was in my "church." Didn’t know her hostility was polluting me (or even that it was polluting her). I wanted to tell her to hang up, to stop running, to slow down and see how beautiful the world is, and she is. I wanted to hug her till she calmed down. Instead, I hugged myself till I calmed down. It was all I could do.

Driving home, I was still upset, and all the upsetting things my mind could find started joining in the chorus. Eckhart Tolle was on the CD player, talking about being in the now. You can’t have problems if you are truly in the now, he said with his German accent. Clearly, I was not in the now. Or maybe I was. Maybe the sensation in my body, feeling slimed, was the now I was not accepting. Eckhart Tolle said to take action if I could or to accept reality if there is no action to take.

The action I could take in that moment was to keep hugging myself, to breathe in pain and breathe out love as the Buddhists instruct. It worked. But I had to work it, training my mind, like a puppy, to be in the now, to be in loving presence with myself. Like the jogger, like my mother, I had to get myself off the phone with the part of me who thinks life should be different, that I shouldn’t have to deal with slime in my church, on my birthday. Shoulds, clearly indicating that I am not accepting reality.

I leaned into the present moment. There was a tightness in my chest, my sympathetic nervous system still processing out the chemicals that arose in reaction to my mother and the jogger. I helped it along, reaching inward with an invisible hand, massaging the tightness. I’m so sorry this doesn’t feel good. I told myself. I will stay with you until it feels better.

At home, I went back in my mind to the start of the walk, the smell of the bay laurel, the coolness within the shade of the trees, the baby plants sprouting after the first fall rains. I remembered the dogs, all tail wags and love. My chest eased.

Then I remembered on my way out of the park, a man carried some trash to a can in the parking lot. I don’t know if it was his trash. It could be that he found some trash in the park and decided to throw it away, even though it wasn’t his. And in that moment, I put my emotional trash in there too.

Workaholism, Part 2

A lot of emotional eaters tend to be adults who were "good kids." We do as we are told. We are courteous. We have a lot of empathy. When something goes wrong, we are quick to ask, "What did I do?" often taking responsibility for mistakes or problems we didn't create. Given these characteristics, we make really good workers.

We also have a tendency to feel less than or not good enough. We may diet to feel thin enough, which is really code for worthy - worthy of love, respect, good relationships... We are always proving ourselves, always "earning" our place in the world. This too makes us really good workers.

But the price of overwork and/or perfectionism at work is incredibly high. You may pay the price with stress related illnesses, more overeating, drinking, impaired relationships or isolation. You may pay the price in time - waking up one day to realize that you haven't really lived your life.

Recovery from Workaholism is just as hard as recovery from emotional eating - maybe harder, since overwork is praised and rewarded in ways that overeating is not! The recovery method is the same - really as it is with any addictive behavior. The key is in learning what the behavior is trying to help you soothe or distract yourself from: loneliness, anger, worry, emptiness, lack of security, shame....

When you have a better grasp of the feelings you are working to avoid, then you can begin tending to these feelings directly. As you become a skilled caregiver to yourself, you may discover that work is not so compelling. You may be more tuned into other needs - the need for rest or play, the need for time with family or friends, the need to just goof off.

Getting there is a process, so be gentle with yourself and celebrate even the little moments when you close your laptop or turn off your Blackberry. Close your eyes and just breathe. Find the parts of you who haven't yet learned that you are loveable, even when you are doing nothing, and send them love anyway.

Workaholism

Emotional eaters often have more than one compulsion. And we tend to be ultra-responsible, often co-dependent. It's no surprise that many compulsive eaters are also workaholics. While we may not get the cultural approval we seek by being thin, we can get it by being good workers. But as with any addiction, workaholism comes at a high price. If you think you (or someone you love) is using work to avoid feelings, relationships or both, read this article by Erin Lenderts. Next time, I'll follow up with more about how to recover if you are a workaholic. Till then, be as gentle with yourself as you can possibly be.

Not all overeating is emotional eating

My focus in this blog and in my work with clients is on the emotional component of overeating. Yet, as I navigate the waters of peri-menopause, I'm discovering something really important about my body. As I get older, my body is processing food differently.

Till a short time ago, I've was having BIG hunger (it was waking me up in the middle of the night) and I had to eat every two hours or I'd get a headache. The blood sugar tests my doctor ordered appeared normal, but my body was not behaving normally.

For most of my adult life, I've been a plant eater, with a little meat sprinkled in here and there. I love bread. For years I've made my own sourdough from scratch - starter and everything. I love potatoes - mashed, fried, baked. I love pasta, especially farfalle - little bows of joy. And I love cake, especially princess cake with it's edible, pastel-green wrapping.

But what I'm discovering is that these foods don't love me back. And I'm not talking about weight gain here. This is about ginormous blood sugar crashes, complete with headache, grouchiness, and hunger pangs like I hadn't ever eaten in my life.

A friend, about my age described the same symptoms. Then another friend. We are all perimenopausal. Could there be a connection? What we all started to discover, through advice and experientation, was that contrary to what a lot of "experts" say, our bodies felt better when we ate more meat and stopped eating sugar and starch.

If you read my blog, you know, I'm not a fan of the experts. I trust the messages my body gives me. For the moment, the message is clear. Eat meat. Eat animal fat. Don't eat the pretty princess cake. And I'm listening with all love and tenderness I've learned in the process of healing my emotional eating.

My inner child sometimes really wants cake, and I tell her, "I know honey, cake would make my mouth really happy right now. But after, it would feel bad, really bad. And she knows, having felt so much better recently, that the pleasure of cake, at least in this moment, is not worth the suffering it brings. So we stay with what works, in this case, what many have called "the candy of meat." Bacon :-).

I would love to know how you have been listening to your body - or would like to. And what you have learned. Comments are welcomed and encouraged.

Weight Loss Advice - Who to Trust

My local Borders is closing (I guess they all are). So I stopped by to pick up some bargains. Books that support the non-diet approach always catch my eye, so I picked up a book called Full: A Life Without Dieting. And just as my mother told me, you can't judge a book by it's cover, or title. The book starts out interestingly, explaining the biology of fullness and confirming what real* non-diet practitioners know. Hunger and fullness are signaled by a complex system of chemical reactions in the body. Our chemistry is dictated in large part by our DNA. And then environmental factors like stress, overwork and emotional disconnect can make it hard to pay attention to our hunger and fullness signals.

Where the book loses me is at the moment when Dr. Snyder begins talking about what to eat, when to eat, and how much to eat. Excuse me, but isn't that... a diet? And then, the doctor begins contradicting himself. Early in the book, he notes that the top 10% of the stomach is where the nerves that signal fullness are located. And he recommends eating enough to activate those nerves, noting that diets are doomed to failure, in part, because they leave people hungry. But then later in the book, he advocates eating less in order to shrink the stomach.

In his "troubleshooting" section, he briefly mentions emotional eating and recommends that you let go of stress. Really? Like the complex system that governs appetite, there is another complex system that governs our emotional states. If we could let go of stress by simply deciding to do so, guess what? We all would!

So, once again, we have an "expert" telling us what to do. Another expert is recommending a diet, and then saying he doesn't believe in diets. And yet there are a few gems among the dross of this book. I'll sum it up for you and save you the time and expense of buying and reading the book.

1. Your stomach has fullness sensors that get activated when you've eaten enough. However, they can get short-circuited by emotional distress, preoccupation, or the smell of freshly baked cookies.

2. If you are eating beyond fullness, it may be helpful to practice mindfulness. If mindfulness is not helping (I know I'm full, but I feel compelled to eat anyway), then you may be hungry for something else.

Here's why expert advice doesn't work. YOU are the only expert on you. You are the one receiving those signals. So only you can know when to eat, what to eat, and how much to eat. If you are an emotional eater, you may need help differentiating emotional hunger signals from food hunger signals and then learning how to respond to both with care and self love.

So let's talk about mindful eating. Turn off the TV. Eat alone if possible. Eat slowly and really enjoy your food. After each bite, pause and notice how your body is responding. If you are feeling pleasure, revel in that pleasure. Notice flavors, textures, temperature. Notice belly feelings. Is there relief as you move from hunger to fullness. Your job is to increase your awareness of the physical signals your body is sending you about the experience of eating. That's all. If you find yourself worrying about food "rules" or feeling fear/shame about your body while you're eating, ask the part that is worried if it can move aside temporarily so you can listen to your body. If the worried part can't let go, you might find it easier to start with the emotional stuff.

Food is soothing. Food is distracting. Even worrying about your weight or your health can provide a great distraction from other feelings that are harder to face. This is why real non-diet followers abstain from all forms of food restriction. We know that dieting, just like overeating, is a distraction from difficult feelings.

Feelings 101:
With rare exception, we are all born with the need and capacity to feel a range of emotions at a range of intensity. Our emotions are like the dials on the dashboard of a car. They tell us when things are going well. And they tell us when we need to make adjustments. We are also born with the need and capacity to bond. Bonding with our parents keeps us safe, comforted, and connected.

Our ability to feel a full range of emotions without getting distressed or overwhelmed DEPENDS on the quality of our bonding experiences. If our parents made us feel safe, soothed and valued as children, regardless of our emotional expression, then we learned that our emotions are fine. We can bring them to others and receive care. And when others are not available, we can draw on the care we received as kids and self-soothe.

Many overeaters have less-than-optimal bonding. Parents may have been abusive/scary, preoccupied/distant, or intrusive/needy. Because bonding is essential to our survival, we will shut down any feelings that threaten our bond. This can be obvious. For example, I've worked with clients who had abusive parents and don't feel safe in relationships. When they feel lonely or upset, they turn to food because it calms them. And food won't yell at them (though they often yell at themselves later for eating).

Sometimes the bonding problem is a little obscured. Another client had a hard time receiving compliments. Whenever someone acknowledged her skill or strengths, she would change the subject and brush off the kind words, not really believing them. It turns out her mother criticized everything she did. As a kid, she longed to have her mom beam at her with pride. Instead, when she had an accomplishment, it was dismissed, creating deep shame. In therapy, she was able to start taking in positive feedback. And in the process, she was able to notice hunger and fullness more easily.

Figuring this stuff out is hard. Most of us need a healthy adult bond where we can explore all of our feelings with another person, and have our feelings/our truest selves be accepted and held with respect and regard. Attuning to our feelings and welcoming the messages they carry is in direct parallel with attuning to our appetites and welcoming the messages of hunger and fullness. This is why diets don't work (even when you call them something different).

*Real non-diet practitioners trust that our bodies know when they are hungry and full. They trust that when emotions are nurtured, emotional eating falls away. They trust that each body has a size and shape encoded into its DNA. That size and shape may not fit cultural ideals. But instead of pushing and punishing bodies into unrealistic sizes and shapes, real non-diet practitioners advocate for self-acceptance, health at every size, and activism that challenges the shaming and devaluing cultural beliefs about size and weight.

Cheesecake, Feelings, and Self Love

I had a client* recently tell me she ate a half bag of chips, a pack of girlscout cookies, and part of a still-frozen cheesecake without understanding why.

Then as our session progressed, she told me about taking her sister to the airport. My client had a back spasm from sitting at a computer for too long. Her sister called at 4pm, stating that she had forgotten to arrange a ride to the airport, and needed to be there by 6:30pm for an 8pm flight. My client dropped what she was doing, and drove to her sister's house. Her sister was not packed, and there was rush hour traffic. "I was more worried than she was," my client laughed.

"Can I slow you down?" I asked.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "am I going too fast?"
"It's not that," I offered, "I'm just wondering if we can make space for your feelings?" She took a deep breath and sighed.
"That was a big sigh," I said.
"Yeah. I don't know what this is," she said, pointing to her throat.
"What are you noticing?" I asked.
"It's like a lump, like I swallowed something, and it's just sticking there."
"Stay with the lump. See if it can tell you what you swallowed." I encouraged.
"My pride," she said, tears starting to flow.

This was not the first time she had put her own needs aside for someone and ended up feeling used or lessened in some way. And this was not the first client to share a similar story - overeating without connecting the binge to an emotional upset.

Like so many of us, this client learned from a very early age that she was expected to be helpful, no matter the cost to herself. She had strong, painful memories of being called selfish by her mother and sister, if her needs conflicted with theirs. Her mother was unemotional. Her dad, while kind, was just not around all that much. When she needed care, support or understanding, she was usually criticized for being too needy.

The one place she felt soothed and safe was with food. Food filled up the empty space inside. It calmed her. It was her one haven, till she hit puberty and had a crush on a boy who called her fat. Then, her one safe form of self-care became completely unsafe. She still ate to soothe herself, but now, after a binge, she would yell at herself and criticize herself, even more harshly than her mother and sister did.

What I find hopeful and tender and heart-opening, is that this woman has never stopped trying to take care of herself in the best, and often only ways available to her. First with food, then with a great education she paid for on her own, and then with a high-paying job that allowed her to have therapy, as well as acupuncture and yoga for her back. As much as she was used to self-criticism and shame, there was always this thread of awareness (I need to feel better), that allowed her to keep reaching for more.


As this session progressed, we uncovered more feelings through her physical sensations:

"I feel a burning in my stomach, like heartburn, but lower." (her)
"What does the burning want to tell you?" (me)
"I'm angry. I'm really angry. My sister is so selfish." (her)

It's no mystery that these physical sensations often centered in her belly, her chest and her throat. All along our digestive tract are clusters of neurons that give us our "gut feelings." For emotional eaters, these feelings often get lumped into "hungry" or "empty" and food does a really good job of numbing us out. In therapy, we are just starting to sort out what is physical hunger and what is emotional pain, fear, anger, shame, hope, etc.

At the end of the session I asked her, "If you could have a do-over, what would you want to say or do?"

"I want to tell my sister that it's too bad she didn't make arrangements for herself, but I have to take care of my back, and I'm sure she'll find a way to get to the airport. She always gets what she wants."

"And as you say that out loud, what do you notice in your body or emotionally?" I ask.

"I feel lighter," she says, smiling. "I feel a fullness, a solidness." Her face is lit up. "I think I feel happy!" She says, laughing, surprised.

"And when you look in my eyes, what do you see?" I ask.

"You're happy too. You're happy for me."

"Yes. I'm really happy for you." We both tear up.

This progression from not knowing, to feeling something, to naming anger, and then finding her voice is nothing short of miraculous. Voicing feelings was a punishable offense in this client's family, and the punishment was either getting criticized (shamed) or ignored (devalued). It is going to be essential for this client to keep looking into my eyes and seeing my care for her, my continued presence, my desire to know all of her feelings, my joy in her joy, my compassion for her pain.

Spending time with her, and seeing again and again her commitment to her own happiness and well being tells me that we will convert her shame into compassion and that her urges to eat will become a beacon that tells her when she needs comfort and care. And I know she will show up for herself with kindness and love because those things are already in her.

*This client is an amalgam of many clients over time so that confidentiality is protected.

Resolutions

I just got my favorite non-diet newsletter, Stay Attuned, from Karin Kratina and Amy Tuttle at Nourishing Connections (http://nourishingconnections.com). They do such a good job of uncovering the harmful messages at the heart of the weight loss commercials that abound every new year.

Personally, I've been bristling at the latest Special K commercials - the ones that ask, "What will you gain when you lose?" What a waste of time to keep measuring our success on the bathroom scale, our happiness by the size of our jeans. Uch. It's enough to make you lose your appetite!

What I really hate are the promises - implicit and explicit - that being thinner will make us happier and more successful. I've been thinner. I gained two things when I was at my thinnest:

• The attention of narcissistic men who wanted have sex with me, but had no interest in who I really was.
• A temporary reprieve from my own meanness and constant self-criticism, which ended up being no reprieve at all, as it was immediately replaced by the terror that I would soon regain what I'd lost.

In my teens and through most of my twenties, I didn't have the wisdom, strength, perspective or self-awareness to really scrutinize these false promises. I needed to cling to the belief that by controlling my body, I would find love, security, peace - all the things I craved.

It's been a long journey. I've had to grieve the truth, that my parents didn't know how to love and value me as I was (and so I had to teach myself how to do just that). I've had lots of starts and stops. I've had lots of amazing help (especially from Robyn Posin at http://www.forthelittleonesinside.com). And now, at 46, I really know in my bones that what I craved in my twenties could only come from one place: myself.

So today, at the start of this new year, I am recommitting to the resolutions I've made as I've recovered from my eating disorder. Here they are...

1. I resolve to listen deeply to my body and honor the messages it sends me. I will eat when I'm hungry, stop when I feel fed, and eat what I crave, whether it's brussels sprouts or buttermilk donuts.
2. When I'm tired, I will rest, and not push through the fatigue.
3. When my body wants to move, I will dance, walk in the woods, stretch - or anything else that answers the need.
4. I will not overwork, over-stress, or over-do.
5. When I feel worried, confused, distressed, sad or angry, I will stop and listen carefully and do whatever I can to bring myself relief.
6. I will say No to anything that doesn't feel right, even if there is a voice in my head saying, "but you really should..."
7. I will ask for help and accept kindness whenever it is offered.
8. I will actively seek out experiences and friendships that make me feel alive and fulfilled.
9. I will actively stop experiences and relationships that are depleting.
10. And above all else, I will treat myself with love, gentleness, tenderness, respect and care.

This is my only "diet," and it's the only one that's ever delivered on the promises of love and happiness.

If you find yourself contemplating a diet for the new year, I invite you to stop and listen to what you are really craving, and ask yourself if being thinner will really get you there. Whatever you need to find happiness, you have the power to provide for yourself, regardless of your size.