Relating to Am I Hungry?

(NOTE: This entry is longer than usual to make up for the fact that I will not be posting anything again until March 18, when I will be back from New Zealand! So you can look forward to notes about eating there.)

I’ve been working on my memoir recently, and now that I’m at the section on my weight loss, it’s fascinating to see echoes in my words of what I now teach through “Am I Hungry?”. (For more information on that, check out my website.) I wanted to share some of that, to show how the theory can translate to reality.

These are some of my comments and how they relate, from July 2002 to March 2003, along with some suggestions for support in putting this into practice for yourself.

When I eat well, I feel good, and when I eat too much unhealthy food I feel awful. I therefore eat well because it makes me feel good and I enjoy it. I don’t know if everyone who loses weight feels this, and I consider myself lucky that I do....

Relation to AIH: Trusting that when you don’t restrict yourself, your body will start to naturally gravitate towards balance, variety, and moderation, and making healthier choices that are nutrient-rich.

I have also become quite in tune with my body’s actual needs as opposed to my emotional or bodily wants, which helps.... I try to eat healthy snacks, like fruits, but depending on the time of month, my body demands more substantial foods, so I will sometimes have peanuts or chocolate or things like that.

Relation to AIH: The importance of asking yourself, “What do I want, what do I need, what do I have?” - and recognizing that this can change on a daily basis.

I keep thinking I should be eating more, so I try that (like yesterday), still eating healthy, and then I get upset when it doesn’t work. I have to keep reminding myself that I need to go by what my body tells me, not my head.

Relation to AIH: Consistently eating more than you need to be satisfied (i.e., to higher numbers on the hunger/fullness scale) will result in weight gain, regardless of what you’re eating. To avoid this, you need to be aware of the little voices that cause head hunger and listen to your body instead.

For special occasions - holidays, birthday cakes at work, etc. - I never really denied myself having small portions of things. And sometimes I splurged, eating far more in one day than normal, but I always found that if I got right back on track the next day, it wasn't too bad.... Just because I might not do well for a day, or even a couple of days, doesn't mean that I should give up.

Relation to AIH: All foods fit, and it’s okay to eat something if you really, really, really, really want it. If you get out of the instinctive eating cycle, remember that it’s about direction, not perfection! To avoid getting trapped in the overeating cycle, don’t beat yourself up, just get back to instinctive eating.

The other thing is I've just gotten to know my body very well through all this, and to eat to the point where I'm satisfied, and recognize when I'm actually hungry as opposed to just feel like eating something - [chewing gum or drinking tea has been helpful for this]....

Relation to AIH: Before you eat, ask yourself, “Am I hungry?” If you’re not, try to identify the triggers (environmental, physical, and emotional) that made you feel like eating, and find a way to distract yourself or meet your true needs. If you are hungry, eating to a 5 on the hunger/fullness scale will leave you satisfied and feeling great.

This is something I once never would have thought possible – for me to take pleasure in my physicality. This pleasure of course spills into other things, and it even loops back and nourishes itself. I actually enjoy certain exercise now, so I make sure to do it every day, which in turn helps promote weight loss and increased enjoyment.

Relation to AIH: We’re born to move! Too often we think of exercise only as a means of losing weight, when it is truly a goal in and of itself.

I never used to think about or pay attention to how my body functioned; I suppose I took it for granted, such as it was. But not anymore. As I’ve lost weight, I’ve started to notice the underlying structure – wrists and collarbones, the slowly emerging definition of muscles, the graceful play of tendons as my fingers move, the sense that beneath all the weight I have a body that is inherently as capable of beauty and grace as anyone else’s.

Relation to AIH: One of the often unacknowledged benefits of exercise is how it helps you appreciate your body more, and gives you confidence in it, knowing you can trust it to do what you ask.

I used to dread doing anything that would attract attention, positive or negative, because I was sure that anyone who actually focused on me would be disgusted. But I’m not really worrying about that anymore.... I find it’s actually rather pleasant, to be able to go through life without worrying so much about what people think of my appearance, and I think it’s freed up a lot of energy for other things.

Relation to AIH: Where do you spend your energy? Is it on worrying about how other people see you, or feeling guilty for what you ate, or worrying about what you’re allowed to eat? Or is it just living your life?

I don’t think [my younger self] would recognize who I’ve become.... And I don’t only mean the physical changes, but everything else that has come along with it: confidence, actual positive self-esteem, ability to look a stranger in the eye, and smile and say hello, willingness to try new things, sociability, etc.... So I wonder, have I finally, finally emerged from my chrysalis to fly free in the world...? I feel that the road to freedom no longer beckons me from some distant place, shimmering and enticing as a mirage of the sea, but rather that it has now deposited me at the next step on my path, a familiar and dear presence at my back, urging me on. Whence from here, I cannot say, only that my heart is light with hope, for I am once again, as in my distant childhood, exhilarated rather than frightened of all the possibilities.

Relation to AIH: When you learn to trust yourself and your body, you truly do find freedom, to be the person you have always dreamed of being.

To learn more about how you might put this into practice for yourself, some books you can reference are:

-      Eat What You Love, Love What You Eat by Dr. Michelle May (you can also view her blog)

-       Women, Food and God by Geneen Roth (or you can also check out some of her other books)

-       Nourishing Wisdom by Marc David

You can also refer to my website or contact me for more information about my programs, if you're in the Portland, Maine area.


Even if you feel like you can do this on your own, I highly encourage you to consider these materials, the “Am I Hungry?” program, and other ways to embrace a no-diet mentality and lifestyle changes. I speak from experience when I say it is a lonely, hard road to go alone. Having some support and guidance will help smooth the way.

Enslaved by Weight

While I was heavy, I had some idea that my weight and issues related to it were holding me back, but I never thought about it in terms of enslavement until I read the story “A Woman’s Liberation” by Ursula Le Guin in August 2002. She wrote: “It is in our bodies that we lose or begin our freedom, in our bodies that we accept or end our slavery.” (p. 208 in Four Ways to Forgiveness)

It struck me because only then, two years into my weight loss and down 100 pounds, that I was finally starting to feel at ease in my body. LIke a slave, I had previously been so accustomed the mindset that I was worthless that I didn’t fully realize how much it impacted me, keeping me locked away from the possibility of anything else. 

When looking for co-op positions at Northeastern, I didn’t take the more challenging job because I didn’t have the self-confidence to feel I could live up to the expectations they had of me. I never truly considered the possibility of a romantic relationship, convinced that no man would want anything to do with me, even when some expression interest. I could not physically do some of the things that I wanted, and others were extremely difficult. I walked through life in constant fear and anguish over how people must judge me based on my weight, letting that in turn make me judge myself.

Even worse, I had somehow formed the impression that this was an enslavement with no means of escape. Society taught me to think that I needed a quick fix that only “experts” could provide - a pill, a diet that promised to shed pounds almost overnight, liposuction, something. It wasn’t anything I could do. I allowed myself not only to be enslaved but victimized.

Which is why I was touched by something else I read at that time, Terri Windling’s introduction to The Armless Maiden – and Other Tales for Childhood’s Survivors. She wrote: “It is all too easy to get lost in that wood, stuck in the mindset of victimization. These stories urge us... to transform ourselves and our lives with the old-fashioned strengths of goodness, persistence, and action.” (p. 15) 

Reading that, I realized that by taking action, by reclaiming my relationship to my body, by forging my own key, I had become the heroine of my own story. It would have perhaps been easier if someone had provided some illumination, a supporting hand, but  even so it was only I could who could free myself. Having done so, as I wrote in March 2003, “My heart is light with hope, for I am once again, as in my distant childhood, exhilarated rather than frightened of all the possibilities.” May it be so for you.

Love and Chocolate

Is chocolate the best thing in life?

I started wondering about this recently after reading a message on a Dove dark chocolate, which did assert that, “The best things in life are chocolate.” While whoever wrote it may not have meant it literally, it made me sad, because some people may believe this is true.

When I was younger, I would have been inclined to agree with this statement. Chocolate was always there for me, never gave me funny looks or asked anything of me, and unfailingly gave me something to savor. What could be better than that?

Sarah McLachlan has one answer in her song “Ice Cream”: “Your love is better than chocolate, better than anything else that I’ve tried.”

I doubt many people would argue that love is truly one of the greatest things in life. (Though according to Miracle Max in The Princess Bride, a mutton, lettuce, and tomato sandwich is pretty close.) But if we don’t feel that we are the recipient of such love, it is easy to turn to chocolate instead. 

After all, according to Fun Valentine Candy Facts, “As an elixir for love, chocolate has been believed throughout history to bring smiles to the broken-hearted and to prompt amorous feelings in both men and women.” And particularly, “[in] the 1800’s physicians commonly advised their lovelorn patients to eat chocolate to calm their pining.” 

The other reason chocolate is an obvious substitute is because we use it so often to express love and affection, particularly around Valentine’s Day. If we have chocolate, perhaps we can trick ourselves into feeling that we have love.

But what if we didn’t have to trick ourselves? While not everyone may have the romantic love they would hope, we can focus on our love for ourselves. If you’re feeling a bit down, perhaps you can write yourself a love letter, expounding on everything about you that is wonderful. This isn’t something we’re used to doing, but it can be a powerful experience. It may even reduce your cravings.

Which isn’t to say that chocolate isn’t a wonderful thing, because it certainly is. Nor am I advising anyone to go without chocolate. I simply suggest that perhaps it is not the absolute best thing in life, and that instead of automatically turning to candy, looking at those other areas first may be even sweeter.

Questioning Weight Loss

When I tell people that I lost 130 pounds, they often ask me two questions.

“How did you do it?” is one, obviously hoping for some easy cure that they can also use.

The other is, “What prompted you to lost weight then?”

What I find more interesting, though, is what people don’t ask. “What was the experience like?” or “What has it been like since you lost weight?”

I can’t fault anyone for this, because it’s not something I ever thought about either. What did it matter what the experience was like? That wasn’t the point, as diets will tell you. The only goal is to get those numbers on the scale down, to change clothes size, to fall into the “normal” range on the BMI chart.

As for what life is like afterward, the answer is so obvious that the question doesn’t need to be asked. Once you lose weight, everything will be perfect. Won’t it? Aren’t thin people always cheerful and popular and have their lives together? it’s easy to think that when you’re on the heavy side, but the reality isn’t that simple.

When I think of this now, and realize that the experience and what comes afterward are the truly important parts, my heart aches at my own short-sightedness, fueled by society’s take on weight.

We are so afraid of truly feeling, especially if it’s pain or loss or sorrow, that the idea of experiencing our bodies and emotions is downright terrifying. We shy away from delving into the questions of why – why we gained weight to begin with, why we eat when and what we do, why we are not happy. We forget that even the worst of it has an end, that we will not be trapped in those emotions forever.

As I started fumbling my way through reconnecting with my body, with learning about myself, I had two advantages. One was knowing that I could cope with those dark emotions, having been forced to do so. The other was having a specific goal about what I wanted to do once I lost weight: I was going to climb Katahdin.

Beyond that, though, it was as if my life on the other side of weight loss was a blank slate. I never thought about it, or realized how drastically different it would be.

Yet as Joshua Rosenthal, founder of the Institute for Integrative Nutrition, notes, “Health is a vehicle, not a goal.”

The question is, a vehicle for what? To just rest on your laurels and say you’d done it? To go back to the way things were? Even if I’d wanted to return to my previous life and habits, I couldn’t. The experience had changed me too radically. I was no longer content to hide in shadows, to live in shame and fear and guilt.

I still couldn’t quite articulate what I did want, but I love how Geneen Roth describes it – to feel alive and good in your body, to discover what we’re here to do in this world that only we can do. For me, it was learning that this form of ministry is my calling, to help others along their own journey, to support them as they ask and answer their own questions.

I never would have guessed that, but I can not now imagine not doing this work. It is what I am here to do.

I only hope that my small efforts will help to bring this understanding to more people – that our goals for our health are not simply about numbers or bathing suits or external criteria, but about loving your life and yourself, living with passion, and being the person you were meant to be.