Friday, July 22, 2016

The first food incident

Since it's flashback Friday, I thought I'd share the story about the first time I remember struggling with food. 

At this point I hadn't developed my eating disorder, and the trauma that really affected my life had yet to happen. I was living in California, bouncing between my mom's and dad's place.

My parents have very different ideas when it comes to how to feed children. My mom believed that children had to be taught healthy eating. I didn't have much choice as to what I ate, and fruits or veggies had to be included in every meal. I wasn't allowed to leave the table until I finished my plate. My dad had the opposite belief. He believed that the body would regulate itself, and crave what it wants. That children will figure out how much to eat and what to eat if they're left mostly up to their own devices. I didn't get much a say in dinner, but if I didn't want to eat it that was okay. If I wanted a peanut butter sandwich instead, that was fine. 

I spent most of my time growing up with my mom. Sometimes I think if I had spent more time with my dad if wouldn't have developed an eating disorder. Sometimes I think my eating disorder would have been a lot worse with all the freedom I had. 

The first time I remember crying over food was when I was about 5. My mom had served me crackers, cheese and an apple for snack. I ate the crackers and cheese first, and was then too full for the apple. I wasn't allowed to leave the table until I finished, so when my mom left the room to go to the washroom I threw my apple in the trash. When my mom came back, she figured something fishy was up and checked the trash. When she saw my apple, she pulled it out, re washed it, and made me eat it. I was in tears. I just couldn't eat the apple. It took me about an hour to eat this apple. I don't know why I remember this so vividly, but it's my first recollection of food being an enemy.

I hope you're all having a good Friday. Sunday's post will be filled with pictures of me at the wedding I'm going to tomorrow, so stay posted to see my newly died hair. 


  1. I will never understand how the "finish everything on your plate" trend ever happened because it is one of the absolute worst things you can teach your children. My mother quit doing it with my older sister, when poor Julie vomited all over their friend's expensive rug.

    You remember it vividly because being force-fed when you're already full is basically torture. I'm sure your mother thought she was doing the right thing (because generally most parents don't enjoy inflicting pain on their children), but it's still perceived as a very painful experience, especially when you're five.

    Hope you have fun at the wedding. xo

    1. That's a really interesting perspective, I'm sure my mother meant no harm, but it's true that it did cause a lot of harm

  2. This is really interesting. I think my mother was somewhere between, but large she mostly catered to what my brother (who has Asperges) would eat. Only one brand of white bread, only carrots and beans as far as vegetables go, stuff like that. I don't understand the "clean plates" club. How can another person truly judge? If anything, my mum would say stuff like "three more bites" instead of "finish your plate".


    1. I really don't understand either, but I guess it caught in a few generations ago, as it seems my grandma does the same.