My Story: Why I Broke Up with Food

Deciding to try out the Whole30 was on a little bit of a whim.
The way I approached it though, was drastically different from all the times I had tried and failed to "get healthy."

Day 0 (when I actually made my commitment to try it out) was on a Monday.
I planned for Day 1 (when I actually started) to be the following Sunday.
I knew I would be travelling for work and wanted a few days to prepare - clean out my fridge, plan out a few meals, go shopping, etc.

Another thing I realized I needed time for:
Saying goodbye.

This may sound silly, but bear with me... there is a story behind everything.

I am almost 23 and I've never been in a serious relationship.  I spent too much time in college studying and participating in extracurricular activities to really put myself out there.  And now, I love my job so much, it can distract me from developing my social life - something I've promised to work on. It also doesn't help that I'm a bit of a homebody, and partying/going out on the town, which so many others my age may enjoy, does not exactly appeal to me.

I have gone up and down emotionally with my singleness - but that is a story for another time.
Just know that I am so incredibly happy with where I'm at and how the Lord has blessed my life.

But the ups and downs are part of the story. One up-and-down in particular was one of the final stepping stones that brought me to this moment of change.

Within the last year, I had a man take interest in me.  He made me laugh and feel wanted.  For a moment, I felt happy, confident, and beautiful.
But it didn't work out... and I was crushed.

There were several reasons why it ended, but one really slapped me in the face.
He told me our lifestyles were too different. He was focusing on being healthy and working out.  I, on the other hand, was not.

Not one of the best things to say to a sensitive, people-pleasing individual.  It was offensive and harsh - I had never been more embarrassed to be myself.

Yet... it was true.

Although he could have said it less harshly, he was right.  I was hurt and felt perfectionism and obstinacy rising up within me.

Out of shape? I'll show you who's out of shape.

I joined a gym, bought new running shoes, and started working out almost every day.  I began to drop weight and was feeling better physically.
I thought to myself, "Finally. I have the motivation to get healthy."

But my heart still hurt.
Work became stressful and busy.
I needed love and release from my feelings.

That's when I was seduced. Drawn in by an old friend that had been there through everything in my life.
We had memories.
We had history.

I found myself, once again, trapped in my unhealthy, on-again-off-again, dependent relationship with food.

I was stressed and tired. I slowly stopped going to the gym... and started eating out more and more to 'save time.'
Bull.
I started eating out because I knew my old friend would make me feel better.

Essentially, I had allowed food to transform into the relationship I had always longed for.
It had developed over time. It was deep, loyal, and willing to do anything to keep us together.

Binge eating - something that had been an issue for a while - intensified.
I would eat myself to the verge of sickness, wanting to feel comfort, safety, and reciprocated devotion.
But the food turned on me.

I was always too afraid of throwing up to ever develop bulimia. I hated getting sick... even when I had a stomach virus and knew tossing my cookies was my body's way of making me feel better.
So the binge eating had really packed on the pounds over the years.

I continued to gain weight, was tired all the time, and didn't feel good.
It didn't matter though - I had formed a dependence.
And without me even realizing, what seemed like an innocent, feel-good relationship had turned into an abusive one.

I offered everything to my food - time, money, my body.
And the food played me for a sucker.
It made me feel good, then hurt me physically and emotionally.
It left me feeling empty, alone, and like a failure.

I would say Never Again, but within a heartbeat I would go running back to it... desperate for the (fleeting) satisfaction and relief from the stresses of life.

The embarrassment and determination I had felt when I was rejected by a romantic interest was not strong enough, by any means, to compete with the hold food had on me. The hold it had always had on me.

That realization was devastating and terrifying. I felt like a lost cause.
No way I could ever find the strength to sever the bond I had with food.
(Not to mention it's physically impossible to cut food out all together and fully eliminate temptation)

I was the one failing.
It was my fault.
I was just too weak to do this.

Now, for a perfectionist, this was the ultimate low point.
Complete defeat... No way out.

So I just continued living in the way that was most comfortable and the way that momentarily soothed the utter failure my mind had come to accept.

I felt terrible.
Embarrassed.
Lonely.
Exhausted.

I accepted my existence because I gave up on trying... something I am disappointed to admit about myself.

But at 22, I was not meant to give up on my health and taking care of myself for the rest of my life.
And my loving God had slowly led me on a path to the resources I needed.

I had heard about Whole30 before and had "kind of" done it once.
But I had never read It Starts with Food or any of the supporting material.
I simply tried to wing it and do it on my own. (How very prideful of me!)
So when it came up in a conversation at work, my ears perked up simply from recognition.

One of my work teammates had a copy of the book and I snagged it to take a quick peak. Between that and all of the Whole30 online resources, I finally found hope.

The testimonies resonated with me and the concepts made sense - at least more sense then eating whatever I wanted.
On top of that, people had eliminated or reduced the affects of many physical ailments.
The reduction of inflammation within the body really caught my attention.

When I was in middle school, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder (Sjogren's Syndrome - if you would like to hit up Google)  In a nutshell, antibodies attack the moisture producing glands, like the salivary glands in the mouth and tear ducts in the eyes.  As a result, my body suffers from elevated levels of internal inflammation.

This autoimmune disorder generally is diagnosed in women who are (on average) in their late forties.
Mine developed and was diagnosed at a young age - and I plan on living for a while, so I know this is something I need to keep an eye on.  Changing what I put in my body could significantly improve the war that was already going on inside of it.

So many health advantages!

Most importantly though... It was no longer all my fault.

Yes, I am responsible for what I put in my body.
Yes, I chose to eat what I ate.

But the intensity and hold food had on me finally had a biological explanation.

And better yet, there was a way to break free.

The promise of having daily support through all thirty days of Whole30 sealed the deal.
I had tried so long to do this on my own.  It was a humbling and relieving step to reach out for help and support - one that would flash up on my email every day.
So I signed up. Printed out all the guides and materials.
Made a calendar and had sparkly star stickers to put on each successful day.
(Yes, I am motivated like a kindergartner. I like shiny things and stickers.)

I cleaned out my pantry and was oddly proud when the only things remaining were a container of cashews and natural applesauce.
I was excited to go shopping but knew I needed a game plan and had to wait until the weekend.

Then, my mind started catching on.

A single thought:
I'm breaking up with food. And we can never, ever, ever get back together.
(Thanks T. Swift)

It had been exciting and liberating... until my attachment issues kicked in.
I loved my food... and it loved me... in its own way...

It's like that terrible boyfriend you have.
He's super great and attractive - until he's not so great and makes you cry and feel terrible about yourself.
None of your friends really like him and your parents think you could do better.

Everyone (including yourself, deep down inside) knows you deserve better.

But some sick and twisted part of you doesn't want better.  And you justify the poor treatment because isn't he so cute and really, he's always there when you "need" him.
Somehow he sucks you back in.

And let me tell you... Mr. Food was trying hard to drag me back.  Sweet talk and manipulation.
I decided that I wouldn't change my eating at all until Day 1 of Whole30... 6 days away.
But my mind wanted to make as many "memories" as possible before I said goodbye for good.

I ate terribly.

Anything and everything I wanted. I gave in to every craving.  I couldn't break up with food without having my favorite things one last time... could I?

Let me tell you right now - that was the WORST idea ever.

I don't think I've ever felt worse - besides the time I was hospitalized for a reaction to medication (but once again, a story for another time)

I ate horrible food for every meal. I was so tired and lethargic, I barely made it through the work day.  My focus and motivation were shot.  I just wanted to sleep away the physical discomfort I had created.

One day during that week, I ate a whole box of Girl Scout cookies on my way home... and I don't live that far from the office. (In my defense, those boxes have gotten smaller and smaller over the years)
Then I stopped to grab "dinner" from a fast food place.

By the time I got home, I was so full and tired - I decided to take a nap.
Two hours later, I woke up feeling like I had been hit by a tractor trailer.
As the grogginess dissipated, I became aware of just how upset my stomach was with me.

Oh my goodness, I wanted to throw up. And I've already mentioned how much I dislike throwing up... I avoid it at all costs... So you can imagine how awful I felt.
My plans of running out to pick up cookbooks were cancelled due to my "date" with food that had turned sour.

I held myself together, but as I sat in the bathroom by the toilet (just in case) I saw how badly I needed to make a change.
But I also saw how afraid I was of losing the thing my mind believed could get me through just about anything.
A belief my body had conditioned itself to accept without me even taking notice.

Day 1 has finally arrived.
After the cookie incident, I tried to reign in my fear-driven food craze.
But I still can't fully shake how afraid I am.

Afraid to break it off with food.
Afraid NOT to.
Afraid of the difficult days.
Afraid of the self-doubt that looms in the back of my head.
Afraid of failure.
And afraid of what failure would mean to my health.

I need to do this.  I have to do this.

Today, I will look at food and end the 22 year long relationship we've had.
I will walk away knowing the road will be difficult and rocky.
But hoping - always hoping - for success.

Lord grant me courage for the days to come.
Lord grant me strength for the awaiting struggles.
My body is your temple and up until now, it has festered within itself.
Help me wash it clean and rebuild it for you.

Whole30 - you better be one hell of an experience.