“Why do you want to lose weight?” This seemingly innocent question floored me. In one of my many diets I came up with an entire list of reasons that I wanted to lose weight more than I wanted to eat a doughnut. Self confidence, more energy, less mood swings and better sex life were all on that list. I once had alarms set on my phone to read this list 3 times a day. As I sat across from my beautifully thin therapist I simply blink as I try to comprehend the question. What do you mean…why do I want to lose weight? Doesn’t everyone want to lose weight? I’m unhealthy and ugly and fat and slow and lazy and too short and have too much body hair….I need to lose weight. Before I can form a response she perkily says, “think about that question this week and we’ll talk next time”. I drive home in a daze. I started seeing this therapist because I have been trying to lose weight for 22 years.
I have tried every. single. diet. I. could. find. I’ve tried Low Carb (my first diet), Short Fasts (these were actually for religious purposes but when I realized I lost weight doing it…), Vegan, Master Cleanse (lemon juice, cayenne and syrup), Juice Cleanses, Nutritarian, Whole 30, Beck Diet, Fix it Diet, Noom, Visualization, Sex Magic, a registered nutritionist, a diet coach, Weight Watchers, good old fashioned calorie counting, herbal extracts, over the counter diet pills, drinks and powders, I even had a doctor prescribe me a weight loss pill. I’m sure there are some that I didn’t list here, but it’s been 22 years, and to be honest, my memory is not great. I had upped my exercise to 2 hours a day. At one point a nutritionist had me on a 1200 calorie diet and told me to not “eat back your exercise”. At that point I was burning almost 3500 calories a day. For those those of us not good at math, that’s a 2300 calorie deficit.
If I could JUST lose “enough” weight my life would be perfect. I would no longer have morning breath, I wouldn’t have excess body or facial hair. I’d never have a single ache or pain. I’d have all the energy I needed to cook, clean, bake, and expertly decorate my house.
So I had decided. Since I knew how to lose weight (obviously since I had read so many books, bought many diet programs, exercise programs, had a gym membership, etc) It was obviously a mental barrier. I obviously don’t WANT to lose weight somewhere deep in my self conscious. I was SCARED to lose weight. So…I will see a therapist! She will help me uncover this deep seated root of why I can’t lose weight. She will say some magical thing that will unravel the huge tangled mess in my mind and it will click. The clouds will part, cherubs will fly by with harps and the weight will quite literally start melting off!
It only took 2 sessions to get to this question. Why do you want to lose weight? Well shit. I dunno. Doesn’t everyone want to lose weight?
I’ve thought a lot about if I want to continue an online presence. I don’t want to be famous. I don’t want to be “known”. When I die, it won’t make a huge ripple in time or space. But I would like my children to be able to make my recipes after I’m gone. So…I will be putting them here. As well as hard copy.
Servings 12 Servings
Ingredients
2 Tbs Olive Oil Extra virgin
2 Cloves Garlic Minced
1 Medium Onion, yellow Diced
1 Medium Carrot Diced
2-3 Stalks Celery Diced
3 Medium Bell peppers I used 1 green, 1 red, 1 yellow
1 Tsp Black pepper Finely ground
.5 Tbs Salt Kosher
.5 Tbs Garlic powder
.5 Tbs Onion powder
.5 Tbs Dark chili powder
.5 Tbs Oregano Dried, Mexican if you can
1 Tbs Cumin
1 Tbs Chicken Base Preferably Better Than Bullion
1 Can Diced Tomato With cilantro and lime, 10oz Can
.5 Can Crushed tomato 28oz can
1 Can Enchilada Sauce 10oz can
1 Large boneless, skinless chicken breast
1 Can Black beans 10oz can, rinsed
1 Can Corn 10oz can, rinsed
4-6 Cups Water or what is needed to get to desired fill line
Optional Toppings
3 Oz Cheddar cheese Sharp, shredded
12 Tbs Tortilla strips Divided
12 Tbs Sour Cream Divided
6 Tbs Fresh cilantro Minced
2 Medium Avocados Diced and peeled
1-2 small jalapeños sliced
1.5 Medium Limes Cut into wedges
Instructions
Turn the InstantPot onto sauté function on high temp and allow it to heat.
Dice the onion, carrot, celery and bell peppers. Set aside.
Peel and mince the garlic.
Drizzle the olive oil into the hot InstantPot.
Add the minced garlic and stir for a few seconds.
Add the diced onion, carrot, celery and bell peppers. Stir to coat in fat and allow it to sauté for 1-2 minutes.
Sprinkle the salt, pepper, cumin, chili powder, oregano, onion powder and garlic powder over the sautéing vegetables. Stir the spices into the mix.
Add the chicken base and bay leaf.
Add the diced tomatoes, crushed tomatoes and enchilada sauce. Stir to combine.
Add water to the “half fill line” for a chunkier soup or the “max PC line” for a thinner soup with more broth.
Place lid on the InstantPot and set it for manual pressure, high heat with a pulse or quick release.
Once the time is up and the pressure has been released, open the lid.
Slice the breast into 3-4 long strips. Slice the chicken on a bias thinly crosswise.
Add the sliced chicken, rinsed black beans and corn to the soup.
TASTE! Take a taste of your soup and adjust the salt and spices until you achieve butt wiggle.
Ladle into deep bowls. Top each bowl with 1/4 oz cheese, 1 tbs sour cream, 1 tbs tortilla strips, 1/2 tbs cilantro, avocado chunks, jalapeno slices and serve with a lime wedge.
Most of you don’t actually know me. The ones that do know me, know that I prefer to be a housewife. I am not longing to get a job or get an advanced degree. I LOVE being a housewife. My husband and I tend to do things a little more traditionally than a lot of other couples…by choice. We sat down, we discussed our individual wants and needs, our financial restraints, etc and came up with something that works for us.
Not shockingly, it is difficult for me to find women who live similarly to myself. Being a housewife isn’t “in” right now. Despit the fact that it’s not “in” I’ve had several friends ask me to coffee and talk through their desire to put their children in childcare and go back to work. Worried that somehow that choice will be seen as an unloving mother or somehow not viewing their kids as “enough”. I have gently yet firmly explained to them that every single person on this planet has different needs and desires. That their need and desire to have a job outside of their home, to have an identity outside of their role as mother and wife does not make them ungrateful or a bad wife and mother. It simply is a part of them and they should absolutely explore it.
Currently there is a #tradwife movement in the UK. Women deciding that they WANT to stay home, they WANT to be a housewife, and the WANT to be good at it. They want to know how to make the perfect scone and they want to know which wine goes with the fish and they want to know how to iron a shirt properly. They WANT TO DO THESE THINGS. And the backlash is amazing.
The most interesting part to me is that many are using American women as examples in their attacks on these “tradwives”. They keep saying that racist American women are using the excuse of homemaking to breed more white babies. Today I read the opinion that in the American Bible Belt us women have NO CHOICE but to be home ironing shirts and popping out brand new white racist babies.
When did choosing that you want to be a mother and a housewife become an attack on all other women? An attack on entire races? When I was in elementary school I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said I wanted to be a mom. The very young female student teacher gently told me how wrong I was for not wanting “more”. She told me I needed to do something that “made a difference or helped people”. I was really confused. How is raising children not making a difference or helping people? After that I told people I wanted to be a nurse. Because what is more “helpful” than that? That still wasn’t good enough. The response I got to that (as a 3rd grader) was “why stop there?!?! Why not be a DOCTOR!?!?” Ok…so I want to be a doctor now.
But deep down…I really just wanted to be a mom. I just wanted to have a pretty table and make beautiful meals and have an organized house. I went to college and on a whim took a small break from the requirements for medical school and went to culinary school. The responses I got varied. Some said it was a “much better suited career for me. That I couldn’t ‘make it’ as a doctor”. Others said, “don’t lose sight of the medical degree. This is just for fun you know”. I ended up not finishing culinary school OR getting a 4 year degree.
It wasn’t until I met my husband that I finally admitted the feelings and the longing to be a housewife and mother to someone. I literally held my breath waiting for him to tell me that he wouldn’t support my laziness or tell me how selfish I was for not wanting to generate an income to “help” our growing family. But he didn’t. He simply said, “If that’s what you want, I think it would be amazing.”
Why can’t we just listen to our friends and families dreams and aspirations and say, “I think that is amazing” and move on with life? Why do we have to tear people down and compare housewives to Nazis, or call them lazy? Why are we telling children their dreams are wrong? Why can’t we just make some scones and have some coffee and swap stories of the rough week at the office or with homework time?
I used to be addicted to exercise. I would workout for 2-3 hours a day and eat way less calories than the government recommends for a “healthy diet”. According to my tracker I would eat less than half of what I was burning.
I took a hiatus because I really needed to examine why I was exercising and what did I truly enjoy? I had been forced to take short breaks previously for various small injuries. I figured these injuries were because I was fat. I figured my extra weight was what was causing tennis elbow, plantar fasciitis, small muscle tears and more.
In the time of this addiction I had started running to #operationgetunfat
I haven’t been doing any exercise including running recently because I was so scared of starting again. I was afraid that if I started again I wouldn’t be able to stop. I wouldn’t be able to be sensible about. But I really, really miss it. Recently, I was listening to the podcast about the energy work. The energy worker mentioned something about using exercise to ground herself and it hit me. That is what I miss! I miss the feeling of being balanced.
I had once described it as a click. A switch in my brain. If the exercise is challenging enough, after a certain amount of time my brain shuts off. I am in my body. I feel my muscles. I feel them flexing and relaxing. I feel the discomfort. I feel the stretch and the relief. I feel.
In the time of my addiction I had started running for #operationgetunfat.
Recently, I swallowed my fear and I started a couch to 5k program to gently get back into running. Friday I did a color run for my Week 2 Day 3 of C25k and about half way in, it hit me that running is the perfect way to connect with all four elements. The wind on my skin (air), sweat (water), sun on my face (fire) and the ground under my feet (earth). There were a few times where I’d start to think “how many calories am I burning?” Or “with all this activity I have to be burning some sugar right!?!?” But when I caught myself I would close my eyes (BRIEFLY!!!) and feel. I’d feel for an element. Sometimes it was the heat of the sun or it was a cool breeze that was blowing right then.
I was tired and hungry afterwards. Instead of limiting myself, I ate when I was hungry. I took a nap. I listened to my body! I wore my Apple Watch but honestly, I forgot to start the tracker until about half way through the run. I still have no idea how many calories I burned (or even how many the watch tracked as being burned) or how many miles I ran vs walked. I simply ran to feel.
I was 14 when I did my first organized diet with my mom. This followed a trip to California to visit my family and being asked why I got so fat. Having distant relatives slap grapes out of my hand saying, “You don’t need to eat anymore…” My mom was doing “low carb”. Back then I didn’t read any rules or literature…but the guideline I followed was, “if you get it wet and it gets “mushy” don’t eat it” (like bread, cookies, crackers, etc). I remember thinking I felt lighter and less sluggish. I remember people complimenting me on how much weight I had lost and feeling amazing under their praise. And I also remember the day that a friend at church offered me a chocolate chip cookie. I reluctantly took it and said something like, “I’ve been so good, one cookie won’t hurt…”. What followed was a “I already had a cookie, might as well have…”
17 year old me
After that I tried various diets and exercise programs in a vicious cycle for 22 years. In this time, I got married, had babies, moved all over the country and lived as full of a life I could being trapped in diet culture.
At one point I was training for a 1/2 marathon. I’d run 9 miles in a day and aim to eat 1200 calories. I was seeing a diet coach at the time and even though she suggested adding calories in, I was so worried about gaining weight back or being unhealthy that I didn’t add as many back as she recommended.
Each diet, each workout program, each new lifestyle change would end the same. I’d see a little bit of progress and then I’d reward myself with a doughnut or a beer. Then I’d binge. I figured my will power was just way less than others. I figured I was weak. I figured I was lazy. So the next week I’d double down. Do an extra workout, cut out dairy for the week, cut out sugar, etc. Then it would start all over again.
This past April I was fed up with not being able to lose weight. I was in the throes of Noom and had an “epiphany”. OBVIOUSLY I am AFRAID to lose weight. If I wasn’t afraid…then it would have happened by now. The answer to my problem was therapy. I needed to “fix” my “mental block”. Once I fixed my head…my body would follow.
So I made an appointment with a therapist and went in for my first visit. I explained how afraid I was of losing weight and how I “knew what to do” and that I kept “self sabotaging”.
At the end of my session she calmly replied. “Over the next week I’d like you to think about WHY you want to lose weight. We will discuss next week.”
I was infuriated. WhY?!?!?! What do you MEAN why? Just look at me! And well of course…doesn’t EVERYONE want to lose weight? I mean…hello???
At my next session I very nervously sat down and said, “Uh…I couldn’t come up with a real answer to your question…” I was completely shocked when she responded, “That is exactly what I was hoping you’d come back with.” Over the next few months some of the questions she asked were earth shattering. “If you never lost another ounce…could you be happy?” That one particularly unsettled me. Every time I thought about it, I’d feel sick. I started slow. I like my boobs. I guess I could live with my boobs. Or my ankles and calves are good. Runners calves. I could live with those. My arms aren’t perfect…but yeah…I could live with them. It finally got to the point where I would think, “Maybe if I could just get a tummy tuck I’d be ok in a bigger body.
Eventually I thought, “Ok, ok…if I’m going to be a ‘plus size woman’ *MAYBE* I could be happy if I knew how to DRESS for a plus size woman.” So I pulled out my trusty laptop and started Googling! My Google search led me to a few books on dressing curves on Amazon. Then I see in the “others who bought this book also bought…” The Fuck It Diet.
First off, how does that NOT catch your eye. Clicking on that brought up the book Beyond Beautiful as well. In a rush, before I could change my mind, I bought them both. I literally devoured both books in just a few days. As soon as I was finished, I ordered Health at Every Size. When I finished that one, I ordered Body Respect. I started listening to all of Caroline Dooner’s (author of The Fuck it Diet) podcasts in order from episode 1.
I still needed a little convincing though…I mean I read Eat to Live and all of the studies he quotes say Plant Based (no oil, sugar or salt please!) is the secret to health and I agreed with all he said…So I started looking up symptoms of malnutrition. I was ABSOLUTELY SHOCKED at how many signs of malnutrition I had!
I gave away my FitBit, put my food scale away (I still keep it so I can measure out ingredients for fresh baked bread. ANOTHER thing I stopped doing because I couldn’t be trusted around bread), I put my body scale away, I started clearing out my closet. None of the “maybe I’ll fit into them one day” outfits made the cut. I started shopping at different stores and bought clothes cut for my shape and size.
I found a culinary school and started the enrollment process. I had started culinary school at 18 but never finished. I had thought about starting school again but then my brain started screaming. “Do you know how fat you will become? You can’t be trusted around food like that!” But now…now I am excited to start something that is for me again. Something I enjoy. Something that brings back warm feelings of home and family.
I unfollowed all of my “clean eating”, “goddess warrior workouts” and “healthy living” accounts on social media. I went down the resource guide Caroline sent out and followed every single one recommended. I now follow #healthateverysize and #plussizefashion instead of #ripped.
I allowed myself to buy Sam’s Club sized M&Ms and Smartfood White Cheddar Popcorn. (something I only ever allowed myself to eat on road trips before). I literally ate my weight in popcorn and candy.
Already my body is healing. I am no longer losing hair by the handful. A nail infection I’ve had for almost 2 1/2 years is FINALLY healing (I took a lot of meds for it too…with no effect), my chronic fatigue is fading, my teeth are healing, my skin is less dry and thin.
Like many others who have given up diets I was afraid of exploding. I was afraid that my appetite would never subside and I would end up on tv as a person who needed to be lifted out of her home with a crane. But my appetite did subside. I have a 2 liter of Dr. Pepper on my counter from Sunday. We had pizza and bought some sodas. Before all of this, I would have either downed all the soda until it was gone or I would have poured it down the sink because I couldn’t be trusted near it. But now that I have given myself permission to say “Fuck it!” and have anything I want…It’s not the draw it once was. Some days I crave broccoli and some days I really need an English Muffin with peanut butter (something that was “off limits” in my mind before).
My ultimate goal is to be happy in my body. It’s a process. Somedays I cry in my closet because I look fat in everything. But the good days are starting to outweigh the bad ones and one day the bad days will be few and far between. But more importantly, for the first time in 22 years, I’m not hungry.
These two things don’t really seem related. However, in the muddled recesses of my mind they are very much connected! Distorted body image and disordered eating have had me avoiding both!
Previously in my life, my morning was full of bombs. I’d wake up, pee, turn the shower on and weigh myself. If my weight was the same or up even slightly, (I’m talking .1 pound) I was already a little disgruntled. I’d have a battle in my head about whether or not .1 pound increase was significant. I’d try to figure out what I did “wrong” the day before. “I worked out for almost 2 hours! But…I did slow down on the treadmill toward the end there…” or “I actually ate LESS than my allotted 1200 calories yesterday!?!?!? Why is my weight up!?!?”
This inner monologue would continue all through my shower. I’d criticize every inch of my skin as I soaped up and rinsed off. And then…I’d shut off the water and grab my towel. I’d wrap it around myself and analyze The Gap.
Any person who has battled with their weight knows The Gap I’m referring to. The gap of skin showing behind the towel where the ends DON’T meet. If I felt that the gap had gotten any larger, I would be in a foul mood all day. Regardless of the weight change (or not) on the scale. If the towel fully closed, I’d suddenly be buoyant and be in the best mood I could be. I’d post a Non-Scale Victory (NSV) on a weight loss group and feel like I had somehow conquered the world.
But today…I decided FUCK IT! FUCK ALL THAT SHIT! I am no longer measuring my self worth on whether or not a scrap of fabric wraps around my body! Read that again. I let a piece of cotton determine my self worth! So I went out and I bought myself a bath sheet! I let that soft oversized bath sheet enclose me like a hug and now I don’t care at all about how much excess fabric there is when it’s fully on.
But what about culinary school? How does a school program relate? Years back before I ever had an issue with food restriction or dieting I would cook with my grandfather. We’d try new recipes, he’d pass on his favorites, show me techniques and we’d spend hours together. Cooking comes so naturally to me that I find myself contentedly humming a tune while kneading bread, or doing a little dance while whisking a sauce.
I even went to culinary school once upon a time. Unfortunately I didn’t finish the program. I was so consumed with righteous indignation that I was “smart enough” to go to medical school and was so angry that others seemed relieved when I talked about going to culinary school instead of med school (another story for another post) that I dropped out of culinary school and accelerated my Associates degree so I could take advantage of a direct transfer agreement that community colleges had with universities in Washington State before they discontinued the program.
Over the years I’ve considered going back, but I would always stop short and think, “Do you honestly think you can be fit and healthy and be around food all day? You have NO self control, you’re addicted to food and you will die an early death!” So I denied myself my passion.
Even at home I tried to perfect vegan artisan cheeses, non fat cheesecake and low calorie tacos. I’d skip the butter in my scrambled eggs and use spray oil. I’d buy non-fat sour cream, zero calorie salad dressings and try to pass off aquafaba as eggs. I was so miserable. If I made a delicious dish for my family I could barely taste the food for adjustments without worrying if the tiny taste would go straight to my stomach.
But now…now that I have started saying FUCK THAT, things are changing. Fuck you spray oil and bean water! I will make a pistachio no bake cheesecake if I want to! I will HAVE MY CHEESECAKE AND EAT IT TOO! I have taken a HUGE step and put my application in for my local culinary program! For some, a preoccupation with food and a career in the food industry can be a result of disordered eating and restriction. But for me…returning to my passion is a sign of my turning away from the fear of that number on the scale and the dreaded towel gap. I will indulge myself with soft luxurious bath sheets and a new chef’s coat uniform!
Flour In My Keyboard 