Am I an Emotional Eater?
Curiosity about comfort food and personal accountability in a diet-driven world. Part one.
On the couch, consuming content instead of calories, I became interested in comfort foods as I skimmed a simple article on food trends from the early 2000s. My evening scroll came to a stop at comfort foods in 2002, followed by a quick war on carbs. I got curious about the idea of folks in the United States coping with the aftermath of 9/11 by reaching for comfort foods and it got me thinking about people creating comfort through food as a way of coping with the pandemic.
The Oxford American English Dictionary defines comfort food as food that provides consolation or a feeling of well-being. It goes on to explain that these foods are frequently associated with childhood or home cooking and are typically high in sugar or carbs.
Reflecting on my own COVID experience, I noted a few instances of making home classics such as shepherd's pie, dumpling soup, enchiladas, chicken mole, lasagna, and rotations of beans and rice. I recall negotiating the menu for an independent Thanksgiving with my husband. Each of us had very specific ideas of what needed to be at the table to feel connected to family as well as each other. The result was delicious, but the feeling of consolation came from dishes served with nostalgia.
When I look back at living through a pandemic I will have fond memories of these scratch-made meals, but I will also remember that they were not as prolific as the evenings I walked into the kitchen absolutely drained of energy from the day's virtual display. I have the skills and a fondness for the process, but I haven’t made a pizza since 2019. Opting instead for frozen pizza rolls, take-out, and—my childhood favorite—instant mac and cheese. I spent much of the winter just needing to feel safe. Comforted.
When I reached out to my community on social media and asked about comfort food I received many responses. Yes, a lot of the responses were calorically dense. However, what stood out to me was how frequently I saw responses related to connection to a caretaker, feelings of safety, home, love, and attachment. What amazing aspects of the human experience! I want those feelings for everyone.
Yet when I started looking into the comfort of comfort foods, the information train quickly leads to emotional eating and how bad it is to be an emotional eater. Do I have a disorder, is something wrong with me? Our heavily commercialized diet culture puts so much blame on individuals for an inability to control impulses. It emphasizes restriction, promotes individualism and negative self-talk while keeping our attention on consumption. Because (in my humble opinion), if we are focused on consumption we are more likely to seek outside answers and buy products or support services from the diet industry.
Returning to the dictionary, we find two definitions for the word diet. The first is the kinds of food that a person, animal, or community habitually eats. The second is a way of eating that restricts oneself, either to lose weight or for medical reasons. One is a way of living and is anchored in connection to others, the second puts the weight on the shoulders of oneself.
It has taken me years to recognize internal dialogues of food shame, guilt, and the painful process of linking a sense of worthiness to food. There is power in the ability to notice the old thought pattern of “I ate __ so I need to run __ far”, or “I worked hard so I deserve__”. However, I am still not immune to the harmful effects of this internal narrative. Because of my interaction with diet, passing thoughts such as these may trigger restricting food because of a lack of activity. They may also prompt me to feel deserving of a large meal, a bowl of ice cream, or a drink after an exceptionally hard or pleasant day.
When I looked into the conversations surrounding comfort food, I was met with a form of absolutism. An ideology that leaves no room for helping us to understand the nuance that is embedded in our relationship with food. Whatsmore, accessible information takes no responsibility for the fact that my generation cannot comprehend a world without supersized portions and the internet’s hustle-driven lifestyles.
The more I dug into the information for this conversation, the more I have come to believe that our emotions are present every time we eat. Our food choices are linked to both our self-protection mechanisms as well as our strong desire to connect and be in a relationship with each other. If you are nodding, you may benefit from connecting with a mental health therapist, dietitian, or food coach. Depending on your needs these professionals can offer different tools that may help create new habits for regulating emotions or assist you in creating new ways of eating. However this is not accessible to, nor needed by, everyone.
Even still, I believe there is empowerment to be had in recognizing that we are all emotional eaters deserving of comfort, nourishment, and attachment.
Rather than restricting food or diminishing our emotions, what if we form new connections? What if we gave ourselves permission to incorporate comfort foods into our meal plans? What if we celebrated how interconnected we are to each other? What if we used comfort food as inspiration to guide us toward new cooking skills and deeper relationships?
I will explore these questions and more in part two of this series on comfort food.