Confessions of a (very) curvy girl: Part 26: Eating less is like quitting smoking

When I moved home and eventually gained a little weight back, I began to ponder whether being thin for me was synonymous with being horribly depressed, which, in itself was a depressing thought. I should have reminded myself that when I first started college and put on a lot of weight that I wasn’t that happy either. Then I was eating because I was lonely and didn’t give half a rat turd what people thought of how I looked. I was a heavy smoker, I drank tons of coffee and I could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Greasy and fatty foods were cheap, too, and everywhere. I think the whole spring semester of my sophomore year I subsisted on the yogurt-drop trail mix from the school vending machine and the occasional candy bar. Even then, overweight. I was not healthy at all either though, and when I did lose a ton of weight later on, I was still extremely unhealthy.

I quit smoking somewhere around 5 or 6 years ago; I can’t remember. It was about a year and a half before I moved back to Michigan. Sometime in the months following that was when I decided to trade in the habitual ritual that I had enjoyed so much in smoking and turn it to something just as odious but not quite as harmful: counting calories. I also turned to the diet “food” the so-called neutraceuticals: the low-fat no-fat world. It left me with a void. I felt awful most of the time, but I kept eating the horrible stuff in what I’ve thought since was some sort of self-torture. I suppose one woman’s low-fat low-sugar miracle diet shake is another woman’s cry for help.

I can remember feeling so weak at the time and being worried about what was actually in these foods that I was eating. I did some light exercise, but other than that my days were consumed with worry (about, well, you name it - everything) and calorie counting.

It would be great understatement to say that I wasn’t happy. The funny thing is that all I got were compliments. “Oh you look so thin!” and “I mean you can tell, in your stomach!” This was in sharp contrast to a couple of years later, when I was at my cousin's wedding wearing a cotton, somewhat clingy dress and my aunt asked me in the buffet line (I was of course loading a plate for my dad as well) if I was eating for two and then looked pointedly at my stomach.

At that time I would say that I weighed 40-50 pounds less than where I am right now and I wasn’t fat at all. I thought that I was a little heftier than I wanted to be, but looking back, I really wasn’t. Not for what I want my body to look like.

The revelation I’ve had lately though is that I can start anew. From here I can formulate a plan that is healthy that will keep me in good shape long term. I’ve always thought of weight loss as an exercise in self-deprivation, and in some ways it can be, but thinking about it like that is quite possibly one of the biggest reasons for my failures in weight loss up until this point. Now I’m starting to really come to terms with the excesses I’ve become used to and the difference between that and what is healthy. Daily life has become a practice of overindulgence.

Why? How did it get to be this way? I don’t know. I’m literally not sure when it happened. I suppose somewhere between having no money in college and a reinvigorated interest in good food those things led to me wanting a whole ton of it, but I think that’s relatively normal. The real problems come with portion control and frequency. One croissant is lovely, but perhaps two and a muffin on top of all the other meals of the day is not the best course of action to propel yourself on your way to wellness.

One of the hardest things that I find about losing weight is that food I want to eat is everywhere. I’m not just talking about crappy food either. I have been willing to shell out for some wonderfully sourced, excellently prepared and highly caloric meals … often. And then desserts, and drinks, etc.

So much in the manner that I quit smoking, I am attempting to quit overindulgent eating. The past few weeks I have been getting used to working out nearly every day. I have slowly but surely been weeding out the worst food during that time as well. Now in this past week I have set strict calorie goals each day and exercise goals as well and I have been making myself meet those goals. Of course there are always exceptions, such as our good friends are getting married soon (a big what up to Nat and Leigh here, congratulations you guys!), and I am not going to curtail my merriment too much by calorie counting. The calories will still be there to count on the day after (I wonder if all the ibuprofen I’ll be taking that day will have a lot of calories? Just kidding folks.)

Also, a positive side effect of working out regularly and eating less in general is that I am not really able to eat the big meals like I used to. I have to stop a lot earlier into the plate if you know what I mean. Last weekend I was up on the Leelanau Peninsula with a group from my grad program (EMU HP - hay-ay! Raise the roof, push the walls, push the floor) and we were invited to be the first group dining at a new heritage bed and breakfast, the Hillside Homestead, run by wildly knowledgeable food historian Susan Odom.

This food was … magical. Her pickles really are the bomb, I mean to die for. In fact last year I had some of her pickled asparagus, and anyone who knows me will tell you I haven’t shut up about it since. I could only eat so much that night though, even though lord knows I tried to overcome my shrunken stomach for the spread that lay before me. Staring forlornly at my dessert, which was, if memory serves correctly, a brandied apple cake with only one meager bite out of it. It was a crying shame, but I just couldn’t shove it in. But I sure did finish the rest of everything put in front of me. (Come to think of it, I did have some room left for the hard cider from Tandem Ciders … maybe I had just reached my “solids” limit.)

Every dish on the table was made to be authentic for the region at the turn of the last century. And I’ll tell you what - early 1900’s Leelanau must have been a freaking delicious time to be alive.

I took away a feeling of some encouragement that even when faced with probably some of the most perfect food I have ever eaten, I still was able to pull away after I was only mildly overfull. A month ago that would have been wolfed down and I would have been trying to sneak seconds.

I think in the end, just as with smoking, for me success has to be framed by wanting to change. I had tried to quit smoking before I actually did, and it hadn’t stuck. The only time I was successfully able to almost completely quell that urge came when I decided I was ready for the change. So too with weight. I haven’t necessarily eaten my last brownie, but instead of something that could have been a biweekly occurrence in months past, maybe it will be a biannual craving. I haven’t been wanting extra sugary things or really greasy things either. It’s funny: Healthy eating perpetuates more healthy eating. It’s just getting on that track that is the hard part.

At long last though, I feel like I’m actually getting there.

More Confessions of a (very) curvy girl will come out every other Wednesday. Also, look out for the two new “Curvy Girl” supplements, “Unfit” and “Food/Foe Thought.”

Elizabeth Palmer is the Customer Advocate at AnnArbor.com as well as a contributor. She writes about food and food traditions, sustainable development and her experiences as a curvy girl. She has a bachelor’s degree in photography and is finishing her master's in historic preservation. Elizabeth also teaches a course on sustainable development at Eastern Michigan University.

You can contact Elizabeth by e-mailing her at elizabethpalmer@annarbor.com.