Kitty Fisher

Size-positivity, feminism, self-esteem crises, ginormous tits.

Intuitive Eating

Posted by Kitty on July 6, 2008

Everyone goes on about how great intuitive eating is. You’ve just got to eat whatever your body tells you that you need at any given moment, man. Even if it’s weird. Because your body knows best.

I tell you what, I don’t have the time or the money to go to the grocery store thrice daily. And my body? She’s an indecisive bitch. When she wants things, it’s mostly just the mental idea of those things. The amount of crap I’ve eaten that it turns out I didn’t really want…
I’m just really not a food-focused sort of person. I love to eat, sure. I love yummy food. I also love pretty food. And sometimes I just love the idea of someone feeding me. I even just love the idea of eating whatever, sometimes. I’m not a binge eater, or compulsive at all– I have no issues with food really. I have never truly dieted, not for a long enough period to damage myself psychologically. I grew up in a household where food was healthy, homemade, reasonably plentiful, and ridiculously tasty. My mother grew much of the produce we ate, and was a frugal shopper who bought in bulk, prepared things ahead, and generally was wonderfully efficient with everything. She had a large store of recipes in her head that she’d cycle through. Pork chops and baked potatoes with lima beans. Lasagne, homemade, with home-grown tomatoes in the sauce. Fresh peas you’d shell yourself. Corn on the cob picked after the water had been put on to boil. I mean, my mom made the good shit. All the time.

I’m a decent cook. I know many of her recipes. But I don’t have her sources.

And I just don’t have the passion for it. I am not in a mental place where I can concentrate and focus that well on anything, let alone food.

So let me tell you my story of intuitive eating for today.

Three days ago I made chili. I used half of a red pepper in it, and put the other half back into the fridge in a plastic baggie.
Ever since then I have been thinking about how good that pepper would be in an omelet. Maybe with some bacon on the side. Mmm. We have a local sausage shop that smokes their own bacon and cuts it thick, and it’s the best thing in the goddamn world. It’s wonderful.
A nice big omelet with some sharp cheddar cheese and this red pepper.
I’ve thought about it so much that I want it all the time. I was lying in bed last night thinking about this omelet.

Today I decided I wanted to make it. But I got up and checked my email and a huge chunk of the roof of my social life just caved in and revealed a big gaping structural fault in the foundation. And I was sick yesterday, and in my poor state, I accidentally rammed the needle of my sewing machine through one of my fingers. I yanked it out before the shock wore off, and the bleeding stopped pretty soon, but I don’t have health insurance and don’t know when my last tetanus shot was.
Etcetera, etcetera.

I sat there with my sore finger as the dust of my personal life settled, and slowly picked myself up and went to the shower. I got in the shower and as the water poured around me, I thought of that omelet again.

And had a realization. What if I fuck it up? I obviously want this thing really badly. What if I either make it wrong, or even make it right and then get it onto the plate and it turns out I didn’t really want it?
This belief I’ve had for three days that this omelet with a red pepper in it would make me feel better will come crashing down too.
And then what will I have left?

Obviously I’m being melodramatic, but the fear is real.

Which is why it’s important to point out that the first plank in a good Health at Every Size campaign platform is Mental Health.

You have got to get your shit together, or it really won’t matter what the hell you eat.

For the record, my boyfriend showed up and decided to make brunch. “Hey, we have this red pepper– could I use it in an omelet?” “… By all means,” I answered. “But is it OK if I don’t help make brunch?” “Sure,” he said. “I think I can handle making an omelet.”
This is why I keep him. Six years this week, incidentally.


One Response to “Intuitive Eating”

  1. livingrainbowcolor said

    Relax. Breathe. You don’t have to get it all prefectly correct today. Today, give yourself permission to practice just one thing. Evaluate the results. Congratulate yourself for taking the chance. Eat the damn omelet.
    Food is not love. It can’t make you feel better – it can only numb the pain, bouncing back later even more intensely, exacerbated by the weight you’ve gained.

    Sometimes a red pepper omelet is just a red pepper omelet. It already doesn’t matter what you eat. Intuitive eating takes time to learn. You’re doing fine.

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