Let’s start from the beginning…

I was born on a Saturday.

Nearly 32 years ago, to be more precise.

Blue eyes, blonde hair, and colicky.

My mother was only 18, and my father just a few years older. They lived at home with my paternal grandmother, along with my dad’s brother and sister. Their relationship didn’t last long, and from what I’ve heard and read – the divorce was arduous, destructive and depressing.

My mother was awarded full custody and I spent every other weekend with my dad. He was, and still is, the sturdy trunk planted in the center of my life – but more on that in another post.

My mother remarried when I was four. Even my earliest memories of my step-dad are all so wonderful. This was a man who brought fun, and energy, and so much light into my life. He was loving, read me stories every night, took me camping, taught me how to swing a bat, and let me sit by him in the evening while he worked on his next build project.

My childhood was pretty textbook, despite coming from a “broken home”.

At a young age I could remember hiding in the pantry with any sweets I could get my hands on. I would binge on sugar and junk – eating as much as I possibly could before someone found out. I very distinctly remember cutting the end seam off the tubes of store-bought icing and squeezing it out like toothpaste. Cutting it open allowed me to get every last bit. It gave me a high – hiding with the sugary substances, and hoping I could eat it all before being found out.

This addiction to food transferred over into my adult life, and I still battle urges to binge. Is it comfort? I don’t know. I can say that’s not a healthy habit. And food is often something that consumes my mind on the daily.

Was it something in my childhood that triggered this habit? This need to eat beyond the feeling of “full”?

Eating has become more of a conscious activity for me now. Listening to my body. Stopping when I’m full. Eating when I’m hungry – but actually hungry. Not emotional eating or mindlessly snacking. It’s a balance between eating because I’m human and food = life. But also not depriving myself. It’s hearing the cues my body gives me.

Forever learning about myself.

Forever listening to my body.

I’d love to hear from you if anyone has some light to shed on the matter.

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