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A Bad Relationship

Growing up, life revolved around food. You had a bad day? Eat some ice cream. You won a soccer game? Pizza party! Family night involved giant bowls of popcorn and more candy than was physically possible to consume in one sitting. The memories shared around good food make me want to come back for more.

I’ve been in a relationship with food for my whole life. It’ s always been there for me, reliable and accessible. More than anything else, it seems, food was able to comfort me or make me feel good.

At some point, that relationship turned abusive. Instead of feeling satisfied after eating a normal serving of ice cream, I’d eat a whole pint. I could down a bag of chips, no problem, just mindlessly lifting my hand to my mouth, again and again. Instead of allowing myself to enjoy the occasional treat, I let food control me.

I don’t quite know how to fix this bad relationship I’m in. I’m working on it. I need to learn to find comfort in other things, to celebrate accomplishments without bingeing on junk food. But I also want to be realistic about my goals. I know there will be times I choose to indulge, still. What I desperately need is to find some sort of balance. I need to flip the ratio of “healthy” meals to “cheat” meals and remember that one cheat meal won’t hurt, but one good meal won’t make me healthy.

The struggle is real, folks.



I'm just an ordinary girl, and ordinary wife, trying hard to live an extraordinary life.

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