Sometimes other people come out with things and I just have
to nod my head and smile. That sounds condescending and that’s far from what I
want to sound like. I’m in a state of admiration. These things they say are
gold. And they just say them. Perfectly. At the perfect time. And it’s as
though a whole new way of looking at things has opened up before me, debunking
some of the ideas I previously had.
This one appeals to me because I have, I’m embarrassed
to say, spent a long time fixated on my body shape. I do find it slightly
hilarious that I’m a food writer these days, given my adolescent and early
twenties’ relationship with anorexia. Perhaps it’s not so hilarious. I’m fairly
certain that my family and friends found nothing hilarious about the skeletal
version of myself I clung to for those years.
And perhaps it’s not such a stretch to be constantly
thinking and writing about food as a food writer. Those with eating disorders
expend a large amount of energy and time thinking about food; how to avoid it,
how to get rid of it and what it says about them as a person if they give in to
any sort of desire to eat what they perceive as bad food.
The difference for me now is that I enjoy food. It’s not the
enemy. Well, for the most part. There are always days where that ugly creature
guilt creeps up behind me unexpectedly and shames me. But mostly I love cooking
and eating and sharing food-related experiences with friends and family. It’s
good and it’s soul filling.
On one of those days where I was slightly wavering, I
mentioned to a friend that I often wished I was thinner. It’s a stupid thing to
say and an unfair thought to share. Really. What good can come from these
statements? What I loved though, was, quick as a flash, he replied that, “the
only reason you need to get thinner is if you are in a tight spot you need to
get out of.”
And there it was. Brilliance.
