I love cereal. I love the beauty of it as a snack food, a light desert, a mix-in ingredient for cookies. I love that when you first pop it onto your tongue, it explodes the sweetest, cinnamon taste that makes your taste buds want to have a party and shimmy all night long. I love that milk makes it soggy and that moment when you take the biggest bite of your life and milk is running along the bow of your lips. I love the satisfaction of cereal. I know that it won’t stave off my hunger for long, or that I will want it any less after my last spoonful. In fact, I’m always tempted to go back for another bowlful. And I do. That’s probably why I don’t have cereal in my room frequently. But really it's because I know that I don't think positively when I eat one of my favorite foods.
I shame myself? Why. Why. Why. Cereal is delicious, it’s spectacular, it’s awesome. But there is something about it, maybe the fact that I’ll still be hungry in 20 minutes that makes me stop. And I say this while I down multiple handfuls of my new favorite into my mouth…. and I’m going to dinner in 45 minutes. Maybe it’s the fear that I will still be hungry that actually makes me hungry. Or maybe I eat it because I’m emotional or upset about something.
The thing is, when I reach for that first handful, my first thought is this is it, this is the food you’re about to eat, and do you really want this to be the food you fill yourself with now? Nevertheless that I wanted it on some level to reach for it in the first place.
I know a lot of people have dealt with this. These moments of early guilt where we question what we put in our bodies, try to justify, rationalize, expand on. We don’t just eat it. We don’t just live. I’d like to live now, intuitively eating, but also eating for whatever reason I have. And I’d also like not to eat, and be able to spend six hours not eating because I’m not hungry, and not forcing myself to have a snack to keep my metabolism going or whatever the latest fitness rationale is.
Counting and fueling, thinking and obsessing over food have been my downfall this past decade. I want this new decade to change, to grow into the beautiful interpretation of who I am. I don’t want to be weighed down physically or mentally by the constant rules and regulations of a dieter’s paradise. I just want to eat for me and feel comfortable in my jeans. Even if they have 95 percent stretch. I’d like to be myself in this obsessed and freaked out world.
Obviously I want to look and feel like a fox. I just don’t want to do it at the expense of my mental health or fluctuations anymore. I’m going to be young and pretty, fearless and hopeful, excited and invigorated.
So I’m going to try my best to stay positive and love myself as best I can with the mantra Happy. Healthy. Healing. You’re welcome to join me on my little journey, and of course, I’ll keep you all up to date, but I look forward to evolving into a person I can respect and love rather than one I hate and judge.