Straightening the Cake

I wrote this essay several years ago, and just ran across it again...

S'mores Cake

I remember as a kid, standing in front of the refrigerator, scanning for something I wanted to eat and not finding it amidst the low-fat cottage cheese in the pink container, the non-fat milk in the blue container, and the steamed, skinless chicken breast wrapped in plastic. My mother would yell at me to shut the door and stop wasting energy. She meant the energy the fridge used. Looking back I realize I was wasting my energy trying to find something I actually wanted to eat. Outside in the garage we had an extra freezer that housed Sara Lee cheese cakes and pound cakes - for my mother's dinner parties. I liked to open that freezer door and stand there too, wasting energy.

My mother hid "goodies" for herself. On top of the fridge in a big wooden bowl, under a towel lay a bag of malted milk balls. Her stash. My two older sisters taught me to climb onto the counter and find the bag. We would each have a couple. Not too many or Mother would notice.

When my mother threw those elaborate dinner parties, she created dishes out of Gourmet magazine. Gourmet magazines filled the rack in the bathroom. I could read about buttery sauces and cheese filled pasta while sitting on the toilet. But in the kitchen, there was nothing good to eat.

At my mother's parties, I learned to sit at the table and pretend to be satisfied with a smidge of this and a sliver of that. I ate the salad with the real dressing, full of fat, and pretended I didn't want more. I ate the pasta filled with ricotta and spinach and parmesan and pretended I didn't want more. I ate the dessert - one of those frozen cheesecakes, now defrosted and decorated with cherry pie filling. I pretended I didn't want to eat the whole thing.

When the parties were over, and it was my turn to help clear the table and clean the kitchen, I would sneak more food. I carried the warm brie and crackers from the living room back to the kitchen, sneaking a bite as I set it on the counter. I ate the remnants of pasta off the serving plate before washing and drying it. And when there was cake left over, I sliced off a tiny wedge, so no one would notice.

My sisters would do the same. We were in cahoots, conspiring with each other as we ate forbidden food, literally behind my mother's back. Sometimes my mother would even be "in" on the process. If my mother turned around at just the right moment, she might catch one of us enjoying a transparently thin slice of cake. My sister Sue, in training to become a master manipulator, would say innocently, "I'm just straightening it out. It was crooked."

We would all laugh, nervous laughter, the laughter of recognition. We ALL wanted more cake, even mom. Sometimes, we would put the cake in the middle of the kitchen table. Mom and her three daughters would sit around the table talking, making each other laugh, and straightening the cake.

Though my mother restricted our food (or tried) and dragged us to Weight Watchers, and complained bitterly when we got fat, and despaired over her own (usually minimal) arm flab, I can't blame her for the shame I felt about my body. It was her shame too. In the process of trying to protect us and ensure our happiness, living in a culture that hates fat, she did her best to keep us thin. She fed us her anxiety on a bed of undressed lettuce, topped with a weighed and measured portion of very dry chicken.

Befriending Your Inner Critic

So much has been written about the inner critic - that voice in your head that says you aren't good enough. Cognitive therapists use the term, "shame busting," to describe how they approach the inner critic. And many of the other psychological theories advocate some variation on this same theme - silence the inner critic, tame the gremlin, etc.

But most of my clients, like me, have inner critics that do not want to be killed off. Many therapists would call this "resistance," or some kind of self-sabotaging impulse. I disagree.

As an adult attachment therapist (I look at how early attachment in our families shapes our self-image and world-view), I learned that my inner critic developed to keep me in alignment with the values and needs of my family, peers, and teachers at a time when I was too little to survive in the world alone. Being so young, I could not know that many of the values and needs I was trying to conform to were unhealthy. They arose out of the insecurities of those around me, and they created insecurity inside of me.

I have written here about my dad and his abuse history, but my mom's insecurities were far more damaging. She is a classical narcissist, whose primary objective is to procure admiration from others. When I reflected well upon her, I was treated kindly, even celebrated. If I needed her (especially if I needed something she was not good at providing), I was ignored or rejected. I was constantly compared unfavorably to my sisters, cousins, even strangers. I spent a lot of my childhood depressed, but didn't know it. Depression was my normal. I turned to food for soothing, even though the price was more disapproval and rejection from mom, who needed thin daughters that people would admire.

As I began to understand this dynamic through my adult eyes, so did my inner critic. As soon as I stopped trying to kill her off (my inner critic, not my mother), she became my ally and took on a new job. Instead of keeping me in line with people who are not healthy for me, her job is to let me know when things don't feel right. Instead of yelling at me to conform or be "good enough," her job is to remind me that my life is for me, not others. I am no longer tiny and vulnerable. I can say "no" or walk away from anything that is depleting, diminishing, harmful - or even vaguely not-quite-right.

When I was little, I had no choice about who surrounded me. Today, I actively choose friends, clients, colleagues, and extended family who are healthy, safe, and loving. My inner critic is AWESOME at detecting narcissists, psychopaths, and other icky folk and sounding the alarm so I steer clear of them. I LOVE her in this role.

She also keeps me company now when I am alone. She knows this was the lynchpin for me - the thing that kept me stuck in one-sided relationships far too long. Now, instead of buying into the notion that my aloneness was my own fault, she reminds me that there are lots of people in the world who are compassionate and caring, who love and accept me as I am, warts and all. She also reminds me that she is with me now in the best of ways. I will always have her loving, supportive presence within. And that inner safety and sweetness is more than good enough.

Who is Your Body FOR? (a little saturday morning rant)

Guess what? Your body is for you. Your life is for you too. If the word, "selfish" is flashing in your mind? Brush it away. Don't let it distract you from what I'm about to say.

My friend and fellow therapist, Valerie Torres, posted this article on Facebook today:

Waxing: Damned if you Do an Damned if you Don't: How Pubic Hair Became Political

Which then launched us into a conversation about how sad it is that teenagers are still being indoctrinated into self-mutilation in one form or another to conform to an artificial standard of beauty that is neither healthy nor in their best interest.

This is true of a host of culturally encouraged behaviors from crazy diets, to walking in torturous shoes, to plastic surgery, to hair removal (which often results in cuts, ingrown hairs, and weirdly unattractive 5pm shadow - akin to plucked chicken skin). Pain is not sexy. Neither are sexual partners that objectify us or our body parts.

What I find most painful about this ongoing historical and multi-cultural phenomenon is how sad it is that anyone has to choose between feeling valued, wanted, included, etc. and feeling like who they are is just fine without one iota of alteration.

When one person is deemed "less than" based on appearance, taste, beliefs, choices, etc., we all suffer. We could be next. And the mammalian drive to be part of a pair, a family, a group is powerful. It's evolved over millions of years to ensure our safety. So we will betray ourselves to be part of the larger social structure - especially to be sexy, and pass our genes down to the next generation.

Yet, changing your appearance (or really anything about you) to please other people is a betrayal of your very own self. Do you really want to live inside the body of someone who will sell you out to fit in? It's a crazy making thing. I'm sure there's a German word to describe the dilemma. If anyone knows what it is, please post it in the comments.

Our only recourse is to commit to each others' safety by practicing acceptance and teaching acceptance. Don't get all hyperbolic and ask if this means we have to accept axe murderers. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying we all need to be loved and accepted, hairy or smooth, tall or short, fat or thin.

Your body is for YOU. Your life is for YOU. If the people in your circles need you to be different from who you are, please find new people.

Is it Atypical Depression?

Most people lose their appetites when they get depressed. Not so with Atypical Depression. Here, the symptoms are:

• Feelings of sadness, emptiness or feeling tearful
  
• Loss of interest or pleasure in normal activities
  
• Increased appetite
  
• Unintentional weight gain
  
• Increased desire to sleep
  
• Heavy, leaden feeling in the arms and legs
  
• Sensitivity to rejection or criticism that interferes with your social life or job
  
• Fear of rejection that leads to avoiding relationships
  
• Having depression that temporarily lifts with good news or positive events but returns later

I think that many people who use food to soothe their emotions may have Atypical Depression. This is good news in a way. When you know what's going on, the path toward healing becomes clearer and easier to follow.

There are probably many causes for Atypical Depression, from brain chemistry to complicated grief to being deprived of a certain kind of soothing or bonding in childhood.

Changing your chemistry may involve changing your diet, trying medication or natural anti-depressants, and structuring your life so that you build in positive, mood-lifting situations.

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Since Atypical Depression often lifts with positive events, it may be useful to seek therapy with someone who understands and practices some form of positive psychology - someone who will celebrate your strengths and achievements with you, as well as understand and accept the times you feel stuck or sad or irritable.

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Finding a group of people who share an interest - hiking, cooking, knitting, etc., and who are easy-going, non-judgmental and fun is a great way to boost your mood. If you feel shy at first, try asking a friend to go with you the first few times, to help ease you in and break the ice.

For medication and dietary advice, it's best to talk with your doctor or a nutritionist, always keeping a close eye on your physical and emotional responses to medication or dietary changes. Your body knows and will tell you what's right for you when you listen closely.

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?

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.

Just when you thought it was safe to go into the kitchen...

Here we are again. Thanksgiving. Around the corner, Christmas or Hanukah or Kwanza or some other feast lies in wait, ready to make you feel like a little kid again (and not necessarily in the good way). I've stopped celebrating with my family. After the years of conflicting messages (I made this stuffing because you love it. Should you really be eating that much?), I decided to make Thanksgiving my own.

After starting the work of self acceptance and self love, it just became impossible to enjoy a celebratory meal with people who wanted me to keep joining in the chorus of their favorite holiday song (to the tune of Jingle Bells):

I'm so fat
I'm so fat
I can't stand my thighs
You could stand to lose a few
Please pass the pumpkin pie...

A few years ago, my husband and I started the tradition of an orphans' Thanksgiving - not hard to do in the Bay Area, where so many people are transplanted. At the first Thanksgiving without family, I felt liberated. We consciously threw out any "shoulds" that would make the holiday feel like work. We told our friends to bring their favorite Thanksgiving dishes. We bought a smoked turkey, not knowing it would be the best one we'd ever had.

I made my personal favorites, a corn casserole - the recipe taught to me by my old roommate's Southern mom. It's one of those crazy, easy, cheesy yummy recipes - a can of corn (Trader Joes' is sweet and crispy), a can of creamed corn, a bag of shredded cheddar cheese, a jar of pimentos, a half a sheath of crushed saltine crackers, a slightly beaten egg to hold it together and a blob of sour cream for a little extra tang. Mix everything together, reserving some cheese to sprinkle on top. Cook at 325, or 350 or 375 till the cheese on top is bubbly and golden. Yum.

My friend, Shauna, brought her favorite - yams with marshmallows. My friend Shawn brought an old staple from his family's table, cottage cheese (I know, weird, but hey, that was Thanksgiving for him!). Laura brought apple pie with the only crust I've ever liked. And my husband grilled marinated veggies on our barbecue in the rain. It was all so good. But looking back, what I remember most is the ease and comfort, the complete absence of pressure, guilt or remorse about eating. I remember that we laughed a lot that night, a string of Martha Stewart jokes, building on each other.

And I still feel thankful - thankful for the many friends who've taught me that love really can be without condition, without criticism, without body-baggage. I'm thankful for the freedom I've created, from the tyranny of my own inner critic who almost never pops up these days (and even when she does, I know now that she is probably feeling afraid and needs me to soothe her).

And this year, when my mom said, "You could come to our house for Thanksgiving," I was grateful that I have learned to lovingly decline.

What boundaries are you grateful for this year? Are their new ones you'd like to be grateful for in the years to come? What would make this holiday season one that feeds and sustains you without guilt or drama? What do you need in order to give yourself permission to have true joy and peace through the holidays?

Self Acceptance, Revisited

I've said it before, but it never stops being true. Until you are safe in your own skin, you can't be safe anywhere.

Emotional eating goes hand in hand with self-judgment. You tell yourself you shouldn't be hungry (I just ate an hour ago, how could I be hungry again?). You tell yourself you shouldn't want cake (Why can't I just be satisfied with a salad?). You tell yourself you should be thinner (I look awful... I'm so fat... My cellulite is so bad, people can ski the moguls of my thighs).

When your inner critic judges you, you are left with shame, and a self divided. One part of you is harsh, critical, and unloving. The other feels judged, punished, and unlovable.

Common wisdom says, change the parts you don't like so you can love yourself. If you operate under this belief, you may already be realizing something very important. It doesn't work. No one has ever hated or judged themselves into happiness.

When you're hating yourself, hating your body, the only way out is to explore and heal the shame.

For most of us, shame is circular. Initially, we may have been judged by someone else - classmates, a critical parent, a spouse or lover. The judgment was never questioned, never confronted. Boundaries were never set (It's not okay for anyone to criticize your looks. Ever).

You believed that you had a problem. It was your fault, and yours to fix. You believed that the only way to ensure you were safe from judgment was to fix the problem. Then you set about criticizing yourself in order to motivate change.

But there is another part of you, the one being judged, who knows that what she really wants is not thinness. It's love. She knows that love based on her looks is not really love at all. She knows that for love to be real and lasting and always safe, it has to be unconditional. She needs to be loved at any size, at any weight, no matter what.

So whenever your inner critic puts you on a diet or tells you no more carbs, the other part of you says, Oh yeah? I'm eating whatever I want, and you can't stop me! Usually this part doesn't have much of a voice. Instead, you just find yourself standing in the kitchen eating frozen cheesecake out of a box, wondering, Why am I eating this?

Transforming the inner critic
Instead of trying to change your body, what would it be like to change your inner critic? What if you spent time looking in the mirror each day, practicing just being with yourself in a non-judgmental way?

Most of the time, when I recommend mirror work to clients (which is done... naked), what comes up is fear. They don't want to see themselves. They don't want to feel the harshness of the inner critic coming down on them, confirming their worst fear - that they are hideous and unlovable. But those that do the work find something very different begins to happen. When they practice just being with themselves, noticing themselves, describing themselves without judgment, the inner critic starts to get quieter.

In time, a new voice emerges - the voice of self-love. When you can look at your whole self with care, with kindness, with sweetness, you become a safe person to live with. You become a great roommate. And the safety and care you create within then becomes all the protection you need in the world. When you are in loving relationship with yourself, you can be in loving relationship with the world.

Overeating: A Response to Dangerous Needs

Today we have a guest post from Ben Ringler who is working toward his license as a Marriage and Family Therapist in the San Francisco Bay Area. It's always great to find new therapists who understand the roots of emotional eating. Ben offers us insight into how we may be eating in response to needs that feel dangerous...

Overeating: A Response to Dangerous Needs
Generally speaking, we live in a culture of addiction. Many of us make efforts to simultaneously avoid and fill ourselves because we are afraid to feel any emptiness, pain, anger or even pleasure. Anything can serve our addictions, drugs, television, sex, relationships, work and, commonly, food. Especially in our country, where we have abundant amounts of food, fast food restaurants on many street corners, supermarkets the size of small cities, eating beyond our body’s needs is common.

Challenge and Opportunity
Because food addresses some of our need for nourishment and pleasure, overeating is both challenging to overcome and an amazing opportunity for growth and self-acceptance. Challenging because we cannot avoid food like we can alcohol or drugs. We need to eat to food to survive. So, those who tend to overeat are consistently faced with their impulse to eat greater amounts of food (and types) than necessary. Opportunity because there are plenty of chances to become aware of the dynamic associated with overeating.

Eating Away Our Own Needs
How we eat often reflects how we relate to ourselves. Specifically, the way we eat is a mirror for how we feel about our own needs and how we go about getting our needs met. For many, having needs is (perceived as) dangerous. As such, the need to eat (or any other need that arises) is going to be anxiety producing and perhaps rattle the sense of inner safety. In response, overeating is one way that many have discovered to maintain a sense of safety from an inner world of unsatisfied and dangerous needs. For some, eating in large quantities may be a welcome pause from the anxiety of experiencing needs as dangerous.

Dangerous Needs
On an unconscious level, there are many who feel that their needs are dangerous. When those needs begin to arise, a sense of safety is rattled. As a result, one shoves those needs (and the fear of them) way down, often with food. Those who experience this were most likely either shamed and/or attacked or neglected and/or abandoned when they needed someone or something as a child. Their caretakers were unable to be with their own unmet needs while attending to a child’s. A chain of perceived dangerous needs is created. The unfortunate by-product is the association of needs arising with either attack or abandonment. As a survival mechanism, their needs (and the pain associated with them) were hidden from view.

Transformation through Inquiry
Food gives us a sense of substance, grounding, so there is some energetic basis for eating as providing a sense of inner safety. The question is, are our needs really dangerous? We can change our patterns over time when we begin to accept our behavior and face the truth of what drives these urges to overeat. From this perspective, if we begin to get in touch with our own needs, and the feelings we have associated with them, we can begin to break the chain of overeating as compensation.

Think about how you eat. First, bring awareness to the chain of thoughts, feelings and actions that lead up to a meal. Are you in need of food or is there something else? When you feel hungry, do you feel anxiety? Are there a lot of thoughts about what to eat? Do you fight yourself about what to eat? When you finally choose and sit down (or drive thru) for a meal, become aware of this process; can you taste the food? Are you anxious? Do you beat yourself up? How does your body feel? When you are complete, do you beat yourself up? Do you regret? How is your body now? Do you vow to do it differently the next time? Notice the repetition of these thoughts and feelings around eating.

Continue to notice each time you eat. Notice how you might resist noticing. You can begin at any time, anywhere. At one time, you adeptly learned to use food to keep yourself in tact and safe. You did the best you could and continue to. Keep that as a mantra as you simply notice how you relate to the overeating process now. This increased awareness will undoubtedly, over time, change you. New choices will emerge. It is not a question of will. Rather it is accepting the lessons that the behavior of overeating have to show you. Overeating is a doorway.

Ben Ringler is a registered MFT intern #52936, supervised by Patricia Herrera, MFT #37738
He can be reached at (510) 848-8899 or on the web at www.BenRingler.com

Ben brings up some ideas that are rich with opportunities to explore. How has it felt wrong, bad or unsafe to be "needy?" I'd love to see your comments!

Is the Mirror Your Enemy?

If you're an emotional eater, the mirror can really activate your inner critic, bringing up feelings of shame, comparing yourself to others or how you used to be (or wish you were). You could be feeling just fine and then, passing a plate glass window, get a view of yourself in profile and feel terrible. Suddenly your inner critic is unleashed, beating you up for everything you've ever put in your mouth. Ouch!

Common wisdom will tell you that the solution to this problem is simple: go on a diet. But if you're an emotional eater, it's just not that simple. Often the feelings of shame about your weight or size are what drive you to eat - using food to soothe the pain. And, even if you do lose weight, you may never feel thin enough or continue to find fault with different parts of your body. Dieting is not the answer to problems with body shame.

Ironically, the answer is in the mirror! By consciously using the mirror to practice neutral self descriptions, you can begin de-programming the automatic responses of your inner critic - un-brainwashing yourself, if you will.

I'm not recommending positive affirmations where you stand in front of the mirror and tell yourself how beautiful your belly is when you really think it's horrible. Instead, try looking in the mirror and describing your body without any judgment, positive or negative. Here's an example:

"My arm is pale on the inside and darker on the outside. It's wider at the top and then gets narrower at my elbow, a little wider at my forearm and then narrower at my wrist."

For many people it's easier to get started by making a list of body parts and then ranking them easiest to hardest to look at. You may spend a week getting used to talking about your hands or your eyes in neutral terms. Then you might move on to your shoulders or knees. Each person is different, so there is no right or wrong way to do this. Take your time and gently nudge yourself toward the more difficult parts only when you feel ready.

By practicing mirror work, there will come a time when you can look at every part of yourself from a neutral place. This is the path to true self acceptance.

Inner Child Work

I recently attended a workshop with Carol Munter – one of the authors of Overcoming Overeating. She co-led with Robyn Posin, a psychotherapist from Ojai who has a website based on her inner-child work, called “For the Little Ones Inside.”

Robyn has spent much of her life devoted to honoring, allowing, cultivating and celebrating the feminine, nurturing and loving aspects of the self. In the workshop, I realized that those of us struggling with food, weight and body image OFTEN have deep mothering wounds – feelings or beliefs that we were too much for our mothers – that we wore them out or needed too much. Some of us experienced competition with our mothers. Others felt controlled by our mothers. And still others of us learned to distance ourselves from our mothers, valuing our fathers’ ways of being – for whatever reason.

These mothering wounds stay with us into adulthood, leaving us always HUNGRY for:

• Unconditional love and acceptance
• Recognition of our feminine strength and power
• Respect for our intuitive knowing
• Permission to move at our own pace, in our own ways, as we give birth to ideas, experiences and aspects of ourselves

Our relationship with food is but a doorway to FEEDING our hearts, souls and minds.

For more information about Robyn’s work, visit www.forthelittleonesinside.com. Be sure to click her link, Eating My Way Home.

Want to be Free of Emotional Eating? Welcome to the Blog!

If you would like to recover from emotional eating or are already in the process, you're in the right place. And now is the best time - since the diet was invented - to begin.

Since the 1970's the non-diet approach to eating problems has been slowly but steadily gaining momentum. For many years, the main resource for people who wanted to stop dieting and begin eating "normally" was Overcoming Overeating by Jane Hirschmann and Carol Munter.

Great resource for compulsive
and emotional eaters!

But in the last ten years, the number of books and resources has grown. Today, there are lots of great books, websites, support groups and programs that teach people how to recognize emotional eating and take care of their feelings directly, rather than with food.

While the desire to be thinner or the fear of gaining weight may motivate you to begin doing this work, the benefit is far greater than weight loss. When you free yourself from emotional eating, you are freeing yourself from painful patterns of self-criticism, shame, obsessive thinking, and self-punishing deprivation.

The road to freedom may be difficult and even scary at times. You may have come to rely on diets to feel "in control" and safe from the fear of gaining weight. But take heart! Your body is designed to be self-regulating. Just like breathing, blinking, and sweating, your body has an automatic system that tells you when to eat, what to eat, and when to stop eating. Through the resources and information on this blog, I hope to provide you with the support you need to

1. hear and follow your body's signals: hunger, cravings, and fullness - and
2. recognize and attend to the emotions that food is currently helping you to soothe.

A good starting point is practicing Mindful Eating. There are a few books that describe this process including The Zen of Eating by R. Kabatznick and Eating Mindfully by S. Albers. For a quick start, you can download my PDF article on mindful eating at www.julielevin.com/mindful.php.