This post, combined with something that
Sean Anderson says frequently really gave me a sucker punch as I reflected on their collective meaning over lunch last Friday.
The post I'm referring to is entitled "I'm not hungry, so why am I still eating?". I bet that question speaks to many of you out there. In essence, the writer reflects on emotional eating, something which affects many people.
I have always thought I wasn't really an emotional eater. Like "MissLori", the writer of the post, I don't sit down and eat a pint of ice cream when I'm feeling down or gorge myself on candy, bread, whatever...
However, I have always seen myself as someone looking for just the right "taste": that magic "something" that will act as a period on the end of the sentence (aka the meal), the last food that will tell me that now, finally, I'm satisfied.
And that's where Sean Anderson's little phrase jumped into my mind. Often, when describing what he has eaten, Sean will say, "...and it was completely satisfying." Whether he's talking about one of his gigantic egg-white omelets, or a nice little piece of broiled chicken with a serving of green beans or a McDonald's ice cream, that's the way he describes it.
Honestly, he makes me green with envy.
Why?
Because although I find everything he describes pretty yummy--yes, even a nice little piece of broiled chicken with green beans--I rarely feel completely satisfied. The fact is, satisfaction is mostly in the mind. And here's what my mind likes:
-a lovely piece of broiled chicken, with green beans, maybe a salad on the side...all those wonderful healthy foods that satisfy my true hunger completely
AND THEN: a couple of cookies, or better yet a scrumptious piece of cheesecake, or how about an extraordinary slice of chocolate cake? No, not all together. I only want one, but what a "one" I want, though I know that my hunger was satisfied after eating the healthy stuff.
I know there are readers out there who will tell me that I only crave sweets because I eat sweets. I don't buy that. First, I don't eat a lot of sweets. Really. Those cookies, the cheesecake and the chocolate cake don't cross my path very often. No lie. And yes, I have tried eliminating all refined sugars from my diet. I did it for several months and gained weight. I felt so deprived that I just ate more of everything else. And yes, I've tried eliminating wheat but no, it never made me feel any better or eliminated any cravings.
I think deprivation is the fastest way to gain back the weight. A leopard can't change its spots: human beings are genetically programmed to like sweet foods because food was so scarce back in the hunter-gatherer days and sugar gives you a boost of energy. Digging into that honey comb was the right thing to do if you wanted to survive 10,000 years ago.
[Big digression: Yes, I know that some people have no sweet tooth at all, others are moderate in their love of sugar and yet others are like my late mother-in-law who lived to be 82 on a diet rich in the main "food" groups: sugar (4-5 teaspoons in her coffee every morning), fat (don't forget the cream in the coffee!), and nicotine (no better way to start your day then with a few cigarettes!)].
But as a race, our bodies really haven't evolved all that much. The desire is still there, though food is now plentiful (at least for us here in the western world) and we really don't need to jump on the first honey comb, or chocolate bar that passes by.
I refuse to jump head-first into deprivation. Been there, done that, gained the weight back. So how does one find satisfaction? How does one distinguish between real hunger and what I call taste-hunger, that perfect, perhaps elusive taste that wraps up a meal so well?
What does satisfaction mean to me? There are certainly many things that satisfy me that have nothing to do with jelly beans or a huge steak (I'm perfectly happy with a small one, thank you very much): having a good relationship, seeing my children grow up happy, doing a good day's work, wearing a killer outfit...But if I want to be perfectly honest, when I'm at the table, a nice, healthy meal that's just the right size always leaves my
mind asking for more...
I doubt that I am alone in this.