And why its time to find my true self, let down my armor of strength, and share both the Fancy Pants Version of meals as well as the No Energy, No Time, No Money versions.
Many people know me for the food I serve, create and share. Almost no one knows me for the food I fear, the food that creates undeserved feelings of guilt, shame and anxiety. I started eating in secret when I was a teen. A quick google search of ‘secretive eating’ tells me this isn’t uncommon among kids, but the pit in my stomach prevents me from reading the articles explaining the psychology behind this disordered eating trait. I cannot explain my extreme discomfort in addressing this part of myself, this secret I’ve hidden for around 30 years. Thankfully, I’ve been following Lisa Mannina-Sulzer, Warrior on Substack and recently, in one of her posts, she stated that,“It takes far more courage to be real than it ever did to be strong,” and this hit a nerve so deep, I couldn’t shake it. At that moment, I didn’t know it was my history with food that needed to be shared, but I did know that I had been hiding behind ‘strong’ for so long that I wasn’t sure I knew what real was. Strong, physically and mentally, is a word I imagine most people would use to describe me. It’s how I present myself to the world and I’ve always been quite proud of it. What Lisa made me realize, is that there is so much more to who I am and the vulnerability that came with that realization has been sitting heavy, needing to be addressed.
I have never been particularly heavy or particularly skinny. I’ve never had an eating disorder. I’ve ALWAYS had disordered eating habits and thoughts. I’ve always been an athlete and I am most comfortable in my own skin when I’m working out, whether it be skiing, running, lifting, yoga, pilates, hiking…the activity doesn’t necessarily matter, but pushing my body beyond what I know I’m capable of does.
I sit here typing this in the middle of my 46th year and while I want to start at the beginning, I’m acutely aware that this ‘middle agedness’ is both my hardest season of life to date while also offering me the maturity to address my lifelong struggle with eating and body image. As I approach a time in life where I will no longer be able to push my body to new PR’s (personal records) in running, lifting, or other athletic endeavors, I need to find a new way to be comfortable in my aging skin. And it begins here, with sharing this truth that I’ve always been too ‘strong’ to share.
The pit of guilt waves through my gut, just thinking about wanting to hurry home so I could eat Chips A’hoy cookies and sourdough bread slathered with plain mayo before my parents got home from work. I can recall the defining moment when I would realize I had eaten too many cookies and the only option was to finish what was left and dispose of the packaging, otherwise someone would know I had eaten more than a serving. In my later years, once I did my own grocery shopping, I would pick something up from the grocery store – a bag of chips, a candy bar, candy corn around Halloween – that I could eat on the way home, discreetly disposing of the packaging before entering the house. In retrospect, the kicker is that much of the guilt I felt and still feel is from hiding the food, not entirely from eating the food. The hatred I can feel towards my body though…that comes from food, any type of food, eaten in secret, eaten in public, eaten in moderation or excess, there is no reason behind that madness.
I don’t often hide what I eat anymore and now that I don’t feel the need to dispose of the evidence, I can save some for my husband or kids, but the discomfort that settles deep in my core after eating something I feel I shouldn’t have, is still the same.
The journey from secretly eating in my kitchen as a teen to this place of reluctantly accepting this weakness within me has been riddled with variations of disordered eating and often a negative body image that has, at times, resulted in absolute self hatred. It’s impossible to know what instigated these habits and feelings and while I could blame my parents, magazines (in my day), social media, diet culture, doctors, or the patriarchy, I just want to move forward with a healthier mindset towards food and my body.
In 2016, I was 37 and ready to address a 15 year issue with daily GI distress, most likely due to a string of antibiotics in high school for strep throat. As anyone who has tried to get to the bottom of GI issues will tell you, the process was long and frustrating, and ultimately I was put on the Siebecker SIBO Diet. It’s an extremely restrictive diet, not dissimilar from the carnivore diet, with 4 color coded food groups. I met with the office dietitian once and I believe there was a phase system, moving from the green group and over time adding limited foods from yellow and orange, but once I was sent on my way, I never added additional foods. I don’t recall what the follow up appointments were like, but I spent over a year eating the foods in the green group only.
I did not eat anything outside of the protocol for almost 18 months. No sugar, limited fruits, limited dairy, no beans except lentils, no grains, no bread products, no processed foods, specific vegetables only, and not a single episode of secretive eating. My GI health may have improved slightly in the first few months, BUT I was ‘skinny’ for the first time in my life and everyone was telling me how great I looked.
Tragically, for the first time in my life, I had also fallen out of love with cooking and food. I was terrified to eat anything outside of the limited foods I had been eating. I was scared to gain weight and I had the doctor’s diet recommendation to cover the real reason I wouldn’t eat the foods around me.
In late 2017 or early 2018, my mother’s long run with cancer was becoming more challenging and I was spending a significant amount of time with her and my Dad in New York. Two things happened during this period. I decided to get a master’s degree in Holistic Nutrition and my Dad convinced me to eat a piece of bread. These two moments were the building blocks that would kindle my healing, but I would have as many lows as highs over the next few years.
Between June of 2018 and January of 2019, I started my new degree, I moved from Colorado to London with my husband and two young boys, my mother passed away, I slowly began to eat a variety of foods again, and I turned 40. So to be clear, 2019 was going to need to be a year of healing.
While my degree in holistic nutrition would ultimately give me the knowledge I needed to understand that the Siebecker diet is best when used in no more than 2-3 month stints, the initial impact of the degree meant I couldn’t walk into a grocery store without getting overwhelmed by the nutritional and environmental impacts of every food I put into my cart. Thankfully, London is full of farmer’s markets that offer the most enticing displays of fresh produce, meats, breads, and cheeses. I was able to see my spark for cooking and creating flicker as I perused the vendors and wasn’t limiting my choices based on a restrictive list of ‘allowed’ foods. I met new friends, we ate out at London eateries offering every cuisine you can imagine, and we traveled throughout Europe, enjoying local specialties. The flavors, colors, and experiences of our two years abroad allowed my passion for cooking and creating to run wild. I had found joy in food again.
Over the next 5 years, that joy came with 25 pounds of weight gain, another family move (this time from London to the suburbs of Atlanta, GA) and a deeper desire to use my nutritional knowledge and life experiences to contribute to my community and to appreciate my body for what it was capable of and not what it looked like…a cliche that is most definitely easier said than done.
The branches of the decision tree that led me down a multitude of paths and into this chair are relatively well documented on my website and through my blog, but I’m beginning to believe that it’s the information I haven’t shared that has hindered my progress as a writer, community builder and real food advocate. The ‘why’ behind my passion for local and seasonal food hasn’t been genuine. YES, my experience as a paramedic, reacting to illness, made me want to be on the preventative side of medicine and YES, the food recommended to my mother while her body battled against invasive cells made me want to understand how REAL foods could impact healing. BUT, my focus on real foods, seasonal foods, and locally produced foods has really just been another disordered eating habit to hang onto and until now, I’ve been unable to see it. Before you close your screen, having decided I’m completely crazy, hear me out. I will always believe that the healthiest food to consume is the food that was produced with the least amount of human intervention and traveled the shortest distance to my kitchen, however this is not realistic for the majority of people, the majority of the time.
While I will eventually write a more scientific piece on this, the following is only an opinion, based on my experience and observations, but disordered eating tends to take on the form of placing foods in good and bad categories. This allows the individual to choose only to eat certain foods, which in many instances will lead to weight loss, at least temporarily. I’ve known recovering anorexics who eat vegan as a coping mechanism, I know many people who don’t eat gluten or dairy because it makes them feel better, but I also know that for some of those people, it’s a socially acceptable way to avoid foods that they believe will cause them to gain weight. Avoiding all sugar has also become trendy (for good reason I will add) and makes skipping dessert acceptable. The carnivore and paleo diets have been the hardest for me to watch flourish because the Siebecker diet was so similar and I know how unhealthy it was for me. Unhealthy, not necessarily for the foods I ate or avoided, but for my mental health and long term body image.
To this day, I mentally compare every picture of myself and every pass by a mirror, to the body in the photos from 2017 and 2018, a body I don’t believe I can come by without significantly restricting my food choices. A body I choose not to strive for, because I’m choosing to strive for balanced nutritional density and high quality longevity.
When I started to believe in eating a diet primarily composed of local and seasonal foods, I didn’t recognize what I was doing, but I was creating a version of myself that ate the idealistic diet of everyone from homesteaders and tradwives to chefs and hippie communes while avoiding any particular ‘diet’. At the same time, I was subconsciously creating a large category of foods that I would feel guilty about consuming. Purchasing grocery store veggies and fruits that traveled across the globe created more internal strife than a bag of potato chips; don’t ask because I don’t have a reasonable explanation! My mental list of which foods were acceptable additions to local and seasonal ones was relatively arbitrary; dairy because it’s too hard to get locally, nuts and seeds because they can’t be reliably locally sourced when you need them, avocado oil fried potato chips because, well just because, condiments because I don’t have the time make them, bread and tortillas sometimes, but only when I don’t have the time to make them. This thought process is exhausting, overwhelming, and completely irrational.
No one would argue that eating a diet of mostly locally and seasonally procured, whole foods has its benefits. And I 100% believe that every individual requires a different nutritional intake to feel their best, so I want to acknowledge that there are people who should avoid certain foods 100% of the time. The problem I see is that I do not think I am alone in my mentally exhaustive, guilt inducing, all or nothing frame of mind.
Social media has us doubling down on creating an ‘all in’ identity and I’ve contributed to that with my own posts and blogs, by only highlighting the meals that fit the local and seasonal vibe, the image I’ve built my struggling brand upon.
I’ve wanted to inspire people to eat locally grown foods by featuring beautifully crafted meals on my Instagram, but I don’t eat those foods 100% of the time. I may eat local and seasonal foods 60-75% of the time, which is only possible because I’ve made it my focus since moving to GA, but I would not expect the majority of families to be able to hit those numbers. The fact that I feel guilty about eating ‘other’ foods 25-40% of the time and go out of my way to be sure I don’t show them on my social media is not only misleading, but an absolute disservice to the very people I’m trying to inspire. I have even avoided mentioning a processed ingredient that was added or choose feta instead of cheddar at the last minute because it fits the identity better. I move processed foods out of photo backgrounds. I do this because the images look better and because it makes me feel better, but it doesn’t reflect the reality of our household. My life is chaotic and busy and maybe one day I will actually be able to avoid imported and processed food, but for now that isn’t practical. I need to let myself off the hook so my followers can actually take away the useful tidbits of how to incorporate more local and seasonal foods into their chaotic lives while not feeling like a failure when a meal isn’t made from scratch. Or more importantly, I want to prevent people from not trying at all because it seems so unattainable.
It’s more work to show it all, mentally and physically. Social media posts take time and putting meals out into the world that I’m not proud of, or let’s be honest, feel guilty for eating is mentally challenging, but I refuse to continue showing only my strengths. Every Monday, I’ve started posting what I ate every night of the previous week. It includes terrible photos, ugly food, take out and some gorgeous homemade meals. It’s a start and I’ll look forward to putting more reality on my Substack and Instagram, but it’ll take time to figure out how to find the courage to be real and honestly what real is. Selfishly, I have aspirations that this will be healing for me as well as helping me find my community, those who need to hear what I have to say. I also hope that my selfishness will help others find joy in food, mostly local and seasonal food, but also in the food they choose daily to make life ‘doable’ because life is hard and no one needs the added pressure of reaching for unrealistic goals, as admirable as they may be.
Here are two recipes that highlight some seasonal foods you may be able to find this time of year. If you belong to a CSA, I’m willing to bet you have more on hand than you know what to do with! While many items can be quite pricey at farmer’s markets, I find that radishes and greens are plentiful and affordable. Both offer varying flavors, depending on variety, loads of nutrients, and an earthy taste that can be beat when eaten soon after harvest.
I have created both a Fancy Pants Version and a No Energy, No Time, No Money Version of each recipe so that you can make one that looks like my photos or you can throw it together and eat as you please. I love beautiful food, but more importantly, I love the ability to eat great food within the confines of my day…sometimes it’s worthy of a photograph, but more often, its isn’t. Either way, it tastes just about the same!
The Fancy Pants Version of the Grilled radish Toasts uses homemade fresh milled flour sourdough, goat cheese, fresh herbs, and my Sunshine Olive Oil Farm Olive Oil, but this can be made with any bread you have on hand, dried herbs and cream cheese for a quick, inexpensive snack, appetizer or lunch. If you keep a high quality olive oil on hand, it really does give the toasts a wonderful finish, regardless of which version you choose.
Summer chard is more bitter than fall chard and the dried fruit, rich nuts and abundance of dressing completely obliterate the bitterness from this dish without removing the oxalic acid which aids in spring/summer detoxification after a winter of building up indoor toxins. Really, both version of this salad are simple with the exception of dried persimmons. My initial version of this salad was made with dried persimmons, buckwheat and toasted hazelnuts and probably remains my favorite, but all three of those ingredients can be hard to find and on the more expensive side. Dried mango or apricots will lend the same sweetness and any grain that holds its shape when cooked al dente will work just fine. You want to stick with a harder nut, such as brazil nut or almond if you don’t have hazelnuts as the salad is quite wet and softer nuts will quickly become soggy. Last night I declared that this was the best salad I’ve ever made. Let me know how it works out for you. I’d also love to hear about a version using fresh persimmons for those who have access to them!
