Chocolate, you are the worst (and the best)

I love chocolate. I’m not meant to eat chocolate due to reflux, as I’m not meant to have stuff which contains caffeine. This makes me a sad panda. Yet I have a guilty confession to make – I cannot resist chocolate.

The sweet, sweet taste. A half packet of these prompted this post. (photo by amy.kay)

I try to eat a healthy diet because it makes me feel good. When I am eating a good balance of fresh food with snacks and other stuff thrown in, I feel like I have more energy and can get more done. Just don’t stick any chocolate in front of me. All good intentions fly out the window once I see something so sweet and delectable.

I’m not concerned about putting on weight from chocolate. What I am concerned about is that I eat myself sick on it. Milky Bars are a particular weakness, since they don’t contain cocoa so technically isn’t chocolate. I have no reason not to eat the stuff, and so I do. If I get a block of it in front of me, it will be gone in 15 minutes.

I’m a fast eater most of the time. All of the time, really. I wish I knew why I have always eaten food faster than most others around me. I don’t judge, although I know others do. However I think this is in a league of its own. This is an action that I take that makes me feel unwell. Something has to give.

Why am I telling you all this? I think it is important to realise that fat acceptance is not about telling you thank you that you can’t think about your food choices. I think it’s perfectly ok to look at what you are eating and work out if it is the best thing for you to put in your mouth.

Some days I will feel like some fruit or a nice veggie stir fry, and others I feel like fish and chips. I allow myself both of these meals and more, because I think they make up part of a balanced diet. But sometimes I’ll decide that even though I’d like fish and chips, I’d probably be better off having something else.

Why? Because I’ve come to understand my body. I know how it works and what is good for it. Eating a lot of food that is high in fat makes me feel unwell. I can handle a meal of fish and chips, but probably not two nights in a row, or after something else a bit fatty. I will sometimes do it anyway and deal with the consequences, but I at least have the right to make that choice.

I used to think that because I was accepting of being fat, it meant that I should not bother thinking about what I put in my mouth. It didn’t matter, because I accepted myself the way i was and the world would soon learn to do that. However I found that this didn’t work for me.

What I’ve come to learn, and I have fat acceptance to thank for this, is that food isn’t about being fat or thin. Food is about being nourished. Food provides you with energy and nutrients and it nourishes your soul a little as well. A good meal with friends can make you feel on top of the world after a really bad week. A nice comforting curry can warm you up on a winter’s chilly night. A nice meal of deep fried dim sims, scallops and chips can be just the thing that hits the spot.

Learning that food was just food, and not some sort of magical touchstone that would cause me to gain weight or lose weight instantly has helped. I still struggle with it sometimes though, and I’m still an emotional eater. But I’ve learned to stop worrying about whether something will make me fat or not, and think about how it will make me feel.

Will it make me feel healthy or unwell? Will it provide what I need right at this moment? Basically, if it works for me at the time, I’m there. I listen to my body and try to understand what it needs. Sometimes I get it right and I feel great. Other times I feel like crap, so I learn and keep it in the memory bank for next time.

So what of this chocolate issue? Well, I need to realise that chocolate and me and just not compatible. Perhaps sometimes I will have a small piece, when I’m happy to deal with the uncomfortable stomach feeling for a little bit. Scoffing a block in one go though is going to nothing more than make me want to throw up. And where is the fun in that?