dear you, the readers

It has been one year since I first birthed my blog. One intention, many fears, countless hours and fifty posts.

Having mothered my blog through its infancy, I now must ponder its future as a toddler-staged blog which I call a blogger. My little bloggler is learning to stand on its own and is getting fed some nice comments and words of support. But, mothering a bloggler raises new developmental issues and it is important to have a philosophy of care. Sometimes, one must look for support and feedback from others in order to persevere.

Honest Tea cap

So, my dear subscribers and readers, as the days grow shorter and as those of us up here in the northern climes prepare to go inward and grow pensive, I ask you for a moment of your time in the form of a click on the “like” box, a few words in the “comment” box, a share of a post, a decision to subscribe or to follow me on Twitter, a submission of a haiku, or a message in an email to let me know what you think.

Are my writings of interest, is there a resonance in the stories, is my exploration of the experiences of real eaters meaningful for you? Are my musings too long or convoluted in their message; do they not offer the hands-on suggestions and answers that we so often seek in this vast landscape, or, are they, as my brother recently told me, intriguing but rather depressing? And if they are, might they also be, as I hope, a bit funny.

Are there topics you would like me to address more, was I remiss in not discussing National Food Day—like Michael Pollan did, should I post more photos of my cat Chico? Have I not discussed menopause enough– which really, I still plan to do? Am I too cutesy or not cutesy enough? Would you care to know that today I ate a nice nori roll for lunch and that I tried a new flavor of Honest Tea that I really liked called Heavenly Lemon Tulsi–tulsi being another name for Holy Basil which you should really check out? And, while sitting outside on this unusually warm November day, I ventured some deep gulps of the mineral spring waters that flow freely from the fountains that immortalize my nearby town? Would it be good if I included some recipes like many other food bloggers do? Should I change my template or alter the background color? Am I too pink or does my cynicism tinge the blog a light shade of tan?

Should it matter to you that this week I worked with a 41-year-old woman who weighed 78 pounds? And, then, immediately following, a 39-year-old woman who weighed 310 pounds? That a woman at my daughter’s crew event told me that getting her house ready for the real estate agent to show was so stressful, that she needed three scoops of ice cream at Friendly’s? That yesterday, a nine-year-old told me that she feels different from everyone else, and trying on clothes that say Plus Size in the store is very embarrassing? That next week I will see a two-year-old who weighs 65 pounds? Or, that a mere few hours ago, a beautiful 18-year-old college student shared with me that being thinner than 100 pounds would make her less ugly than she already is and that she has never loved her body?

It has been a number of years now since I ended my subscription to Mothering Magazine and I am certainly feeling a little lost without it. So, any input, advice or inspiration would be greatly appreciated. Gotta run. Time to put the little bloggler to bed.

Thank you for listening, sharing, following and supporting my writing. Please subscribe in the sidebar to receive notice of new posts. Comments and greetings always welcome.

In health, Elyn

my plate

My Plate Haiku

Grasses, grain, fruit, wine

Garden flowers produce joy

Kitchen flours bread.

By Gordon

yesterday

Oct28

Image via Wikipedia

Yesterday, the big nutritional and societal issues that trouble me did not seem so far away. It was an unusual day as my afternoon was devoted to working with children as part of a new project I am involved in.

In the morning I saw a client who at age 42 weighs 371 pounds and requires a cane. She had recently come to me with uncontrolled diabetes and pending renal failure. Surprisingly, she had made some pretty profound changes in the time since I had last seen her and had greatly improved her blood sugar levels. When I asked her what explained the change, she said being spoken to about her kidney damage; and her love for her nine-year-old daughter made her face that big mighty river that flows through all of us.

I encounter many common themes in my work, and often the same ones coincidentally present themselves repeatedly in the course of a month, a week or even a day. One of my current recurrent themes, represented by that client, has been women in their early forties with way too much pain and far, far too many pounds and medications to bear. I always wonder, where did this story start, how did it get so extreme, how was it not prevented?

These questions often leave deep indentations as I press my fingertips into my forehead while bowing over my desk. On some days, the pressure is so deep I can almost feel my prefrontal cortex. But, yesterday, I knew I needed to ready myself for the children, so I yanked my hand down away from my head and put on my happy face. Little did I know the answers to my rhetorical questions lay in these young kids who awaited me.

First, was a pretty, very precociously developed, thirteen-year-old girl who hates her body and by association herself. As I was speaking with her she picked up her cell phone, pushed a button and brought it to her ear almost as unconsciously as brushing a hair behind one’s ear. As I asked her to put the phone away, I fumbled looking to offer her a better connection with me. I asked her and her mom a few of the perfunctory questions but my words sounded hollow. Even at her age, I could tell there were already too many chapters to her story and too few cutesy nutritional clichés that could assuage her experience of being fat.

Next, was a six-year-old boy. He is a big boy at 100 lbs. He was accompanied by both of his very big parents who were eager to help their son as well as themselves. With the boy quickly picking his way through the things in my crowded office I needed a distraction fast. I passed the dad these fun picture cards I have where different scenes are creatively constructed out of fruits and vegetables–while asking the mom for some history.

Dad did successfully engage the boy while Mom described to me that he started on whole milk as a one-month-old infant because her WIC checks for formula were stolen. Since then he has always drunk a lot of milk at will without limit–until very recently. How much milk did she say he drank a day? Why had she not gotten new WIC checks? Already, six years of details had passed me by due to my split attentions. What else was already missed in this young boy’s story and by how many people? Done looking at the cards, the child slid off his dad’s lap and came and stood right in front of me. He asked me the hardest question to answer simply–Is milk good for you?

And then, a lovely, smart and very insightful thirteen-year-old came and placed her presence before me. Within the passing of our first few shared sentences, she told me that she doesn’t eat breakfast or lunch at school because she does not want the other kids to make fun of her. At 271 pounds she has lost the right to eat in peace. A right so assumed we don’t even define it–has already been denied this child–and who knows what else has accompanied this loss. And dinner, she eats in her bedroom in front of the television.

Her mom, full of appropriate concern then joined us. She assumed responsibility for a household with much dysfunction in regard to structure and care associated with food and eating but she was more guilty of love than neglect. Still, her daughter now has abnormal glucose and insulin levels, has had to undergo an ultrasound for an ovarian cyst related to hormonal imbalance, suffers from depression and has already been on a number of medications for various issues.

Though the session was over, I apologized for having to go. I felt a shadow hanging over me–the connection between these children’s stories and those of the women who I described above. Is it already too late for these kids? Is their situation already too extreme? Was too much already missed and not prevented? And, is twenty the new forty?

But, I had to rush out to go pick up my own daughter. It was her birthday–my, seventeen came suddenly.

Thank you for listening, sharing, following and supporting my writing. Please subscribe in the sidebar to receive notice of new posts. Comments and greetings always welcome.

In health, Elyn

Broken My Plate

My Plate Haiku

Hunger tiptoes in

From bellies, hearts or minds

Feed me now she calls.

By Eva

how can you say no to a brownie?

Sep17

Yesterday, I attended a conference on Bariatrics and Nutrition, put on by the Bariatric Department of my local university medical center. Bariatrics is the science of obesity. Spell check is questioning my use of this word, so let me go appease it. My quick search into its derivation informs me that its root bar is the same as in the word barometer–the measure of the weight of air. The word was created in 1965 and first used in 1977. It rhymes with allopatric, geriatric, pediatric, podiatric and psychiatric, in case you wish to use it in a song or poem.

The seductive brownie (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We mainly use the word regarding bariatric surgery or the surgical approach to weight reduction. I have worked with a few people who have had this surgery. There are increasingly newer and easier procedures and more centers doing them–and thereby more people having them–so I chose to attend the conference to better inform myself.

I walked into the dimly lit hotel conference room, with bad feng shui, grabbed the last seat at a table with a few other women, put my stuff down and made my way over to the breakfast spread in the adjoining room. From left to right there was coffee, tea, small glasses of orange and cranberry juice, a big tray of danish, another of white bagels with little individual cream cheese servings, a platter of fruit and an icy bin filled with Sierra Mist, Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, and Brisk iced tea.

The morning session was well presented by highly credentialed physicians, a pharmacist, and a psychologist. I did learn some things that were of professional interest to me, but I was finding myself with another one of my nutritional dilemmas. An endocrinologist spoke about how these procedures and their concomitant weight loss results are greatly reducing blood pressure, cholesterol, sleep apnea, and even the high blood sugar levels of diabetes–and are thereby also reducing the cost burden to our health care system of these conditions. However, I was still unsettled by such invasive methods with major implications for nourishment and still uncertain as to how these experts felt about their own program.

After a few hours, I was drained from the bad room energy and hungry. I stuffed my dilemma and headed out to the more naturally lit lunch area. I was pleased to find myself satisfied by a meal that met my own personal nutritional needs and headed back feeling much better and fortified for the afternoon session. It was a good thing too. Three surgeons, whose mothers or kindergarten teachers must have taught them very good craft skills, were soon to reveal to me the gorier aspects of the art of bariatrics.

Currently, there are three major types of either restrictive or malabsorptive bariatric surgeries that are performed in this country–gastric bypass, gastric banding, and sleeve gastrectomy. Sleeve gastrectomy is the newest of the three. While I imagined something more benign, a young boy wonder doctor described the procedure by way of both schematic and actual slides of our insides. He explained that the procedure entails using a stapling device that creates a thin vertical sleeve of stomach while the other two-thirds of the stomach on the other side of the staples–is lopped off. Oh.

The next surgeon, who at least looked like he was born before the first use of the word bariatric, also described various procedures. He was very careful to explain that all of these come with some significant complications. Despite his obvious experience and calm demeanor, transparent in his message was that the safest surgery is no surgery.

As I was digesting this, the woman I had been sitting next to all day raised her hand and asked that if one had already had gastric banding, which has the highest weight loss failure, could they be a candidate for sleeve gastrectomy.

At the next break, at risk of being intrusive, I asked the woman if she’d had the band procedure. She replied that she had, and was frustrated that she only lost 50 pounds. She had the band re-tightened which is done by filling it with more saline solution. Quietly, she admitted that she was responsible for having made some bad choices. I left it at that.

A few minutes later she returned from the break room which had been freshly stocked with a new array of sodas and sweets, with a Pepsi and a brownie. The other women at the table, who I had come to realize were not medical professionals, muttered something to her and she replied, “How can you say no to a brownie?”

The final speaker of the afternoon was a plastic surgeon. This guy was a Michelangelo in GQ clothing. Through a series of slides, I witnessed the graphic photos of about twenty post-bariatric surgery patients clad only in their underpants, before and after the liposuction and body contouring procedures he had sculpted on them. I saw the flaccid flesh of breasts, bellies, arms, thighs, and butts hanging in folds from alien-looking bodies. One woman’s belly flesh reached almost to the floor. Matter-of-factly, he showed how he lifted skin, sucked out fat from one area, stuffed it back into another, and sewed people back up often around their entire circumference. He told of removing up to twenty-five pounds of skin and fat during a single procedure.

As shocked as I was by what he was showing, it was what he explained in closing that was more distressing and deeply telling. He shared that some patients have said to him, that in retrospect, even though they may even feel better, they actually liked their bodies more before the procedure. They may have been fat but they felt they at least had a healthier glow or more natural body. Some, express dissatisfaction with other minute parts of their bodies that they had never thought about before, and many still perceive themselves as fat as they ever were. There is no guarantee that the person will experience a greater sense of well-being and less depression–though many do.

At the end of the day, the Bariatric Program Director and conference facilitator asked the panel of presenters, where did they think we are heading in the next five to ten years. Are we going to be doing way more procedures as the obesity rates continue to increase? Do we fully know what percentage of people who have undergone these procedures truly keep the weight off and the diseases at bay? Do we know the correct prevention measures? The presenters looked a bit deflated in response.

Regarding the prevention question, I left one respectful suggestion on my evaluation form–that the medical community should be particularly mindful of the food it offers at conferences. We talk about healthy eating and yet are unable to establish a new food paradigm in this culture.

Digging for my car keys, I found my dilemma at the bottom of my pocketbook where I had stuffed it. It looked me in the eye and asked, “How can you say no to a brownie?” “It’s tough”, I responded. I headed out into the late afternoon traffic.

How do you say no to a brownie?

Thank you for listening, sharing, following and supporting my writing. Please subscribe in the sidebar to receive notice of new posts. Comments and greetings always welcome.

In health, Elyn

my plate

My Plate Haiku

Adirondack lake

Soothes us from the heat–weightless

We float like feathers. by Elyn

muse of the girl

Jul22

Camouflage is definitely not for me. I prefer pretty patterns and soft silky and satiny fabrics. Give me beautiful bold colors or light pastels. Browns and faded olive are not in my color palette. I may be nicely disguised in a flower garden, but I am an easy target on the battlefield. That may explain why I am fielding a lot of enemy fire in the trenches these days. The obesity war seems to be raging on all fronts.

It’s been a bad week for news journalism with the News of the World scandal, but a few stories got through from the correspondents. First, came the release of the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, “F as in Fat”, an annual report on the national state of obesity. Apparently, obesity rates are increasing in sixteen states, but, good news, there were fewer than twenty states with increasing rates. My state of New York, is apparently in better shape than most, with only 23.9% of its denizens classifying as obese. Our good showing can be due to the millions in New York City who don’t have cars, and still walk everywhere and climb stairs even to get in and out of the subways. Maybe an unfair advantage, but, Go, team!

Then, there was a commentary article in the Journal of the American Medical Association. Drs. Lindsey Murtagh and David Ludwig, of the Harvard School of Public Health, proposed that morbidly obese children be removed from their homes and placed in foster care, to control for the harmful behaviors by which they are affected. They gave an exception to cases with genetic causes.

Reading this made me wonder if I should have been removed from my home due to secondary smoke exposure. I suppose the smoking could have been attributed to some genetic parental anxiety and my case would have been dismissed. Just imagine though what would it have been like to live with a normal, straight-haired and non-smoking family? But, maybe those parents would have drunk too much or would not have had the patience for my crazy curls? Didn’t everyone drink and smoke, even in pregnancy, back then? It took a while for people to understand the dangers of cigarettes, and for the tobacco companies to fess up. My folks didn’t mean to hurt me.

Now, most everyone has been eating processed and adulterated food for a long while, but, it has taken until rather recently to catch onto what it is doing to us and few in the industry are fessing up. My kids tell me how all their friends’ kitchens are stocked with big bottles of soda, large bags of chips and huge boxes of fun cereals. I know they have at times wished for foster placement due to this. But, maybe I should warn those families. The jig might be up–well, only if their kids are fat.

Despite this multi-paragraph ramble, the headlines are exactly what I don’t want to talk about. I want to discuss the war that doesn’t get covered, that wages within the many girls and women–of all ages and sizes–who hate their bodies and therefore deny a large part of their selves. Or, who, by not loving themselves, direct a lot of abuse to their bodies in both thought and action. Though they often wish they were invisible, we see them walking around in all types of bodies including those we deem acceptable and those we envy. Persons, whose self-worth has long been determined by the numbers on a scale or by an image in a mirror.

The confusion and dictates about food and eating cause as much, if not more, distress for them, than for those who are large-sized without such negative judgment about their weight. The collective pain and problems here are profound as are those we ascribe to obesity–and the physical consequences can be even more severe or deadly. Here, much potential is lost and much love is denied. I think we all have wandered into and many have lingered in this place where reality is distorted and self-flagellation and deprivation seem deserved.

This is the ignored epidemic. Not many resources are designated here, but I have apparently been assigned to cover this beat. My field notebooks are filled with stories and quotes that are usually too intimate for me to share. But they imply a sense that so many girls and women believe that without perfection they cannot be whole and should not take up much space on this generous planet. It is heartbreaking to witness this.

Having been touched by the lives of so many amazing, intelligent, gorgeous, creative, warm, gentle, caring and funny individuals who have been broken in this battle of self and body, these are some things I wish would receive front-page headlines: Bodies change, contours soften, bellies round, babies fill, bloat happens, hunger informs, weight is not absolute, judgmental words injure, beauty shines, food nourishes, wisdom evolves, body protects, hormones ebb and flow, pleasure is permissible, fat is often just a feeling in one’s head and restriction revolts.

If you are living this, put down the staunch resistance, begin the surrender and trust your inner feminine voice. Please know you are all so beautiful and you possess that which really matters. Take a moment to put your hand on your heart and belly and send love to yourself. Take a deep slow breath and be thankful to your body. Send a healing thought out to other women, because I assure you, you are so not alone. Hold the daughters and ask to be held. Reclaim your place. Change the internal tapes. Know there are many paths to healing available. The world needs everything you have to offer.

Any sharings will be welcomed and respected.

Thank you for listening, sharing, following and supporting my writing. Please subscribe in the sidebar to receive notice of new posts. Comments and greetings always welcome.

In love and health, Elyn

John Lennon’s My Plate

My Plate Haiku

Deep scarlet red beets

Reveal your sweetness to me

Slip out of your skins.

by Elyn

you ain’t necessarily misbehavin’– part 2

Mar1

A while back, in my post You Ain’t Necessarily Misbehavin’, I began to explore the topic of how we arrive at being the eaters we are today, and how we berate ourselves for so many things that we had little control over.

The last week of February marks the observation of National Eating Disorder Awareness Week–which also has been expanded to reach out to the many who live in daily distress from hating their bodies. I have not been sure what to add to the conversation which is so ably cradled by many wise people. However, as this struggle is so relevant to the story, and such a part of the fabric that we are all woven into, I offer a continuation of the examination of how our relationship with food and eating gets shaped. Last time, I left off, just as we were being born.

After we slide out or are plucked from our mothers’ tummies, the messages regarding food and security are profound. Influencing this stage are many factors: how our cries of hunger were responded to; if food was used to placate other needs; whether our cues of satiety were observed; or if we were encouraged to keep feeding according to some external measurement. Image result for crying babies images free download

The emotional state of our caregivers also colors our early feedings. A premature or reluctant feeding infant whose parent anxiously counts every milliliter consumed is having a different sentient experience than the content babe who nuzzles and guzzles while mother hums dreamily.

Whether we are breastfed or formula-fed also may affect us. A breastfed baby exposed to a wider palette of flavors based on mom’s diet may develop greater food acceptability than the formula-fed baby who gets the same recipe with each feeding. Also, fullness (and growth) may be appreciated differently, due to the difference in the composition of human and artificial milk.

Other subtleties influence this early feeding stage. Our innate temperaments reveal if we eat to live or live to eat. Some babies internalize the joy of clutching the breast or bottle as core to their being; others see the business of feeding as a mere requisite to the more important work of exploring the larger world. Certainly, much is anchored when we are merely minutes, days and months old.

Then, soon enough, we are small children. By the age of four, by my calculations, we have already had at least eight thousand, seven hundred and sixty eating encounters–and we are already pretty savvy little humans. We have begun to glean that food serves a greater purpose than fueling our bodies for play. It is somehow powerfully linked with love and affection and has powers way beyond its nutrient content. Candy can mend a hurt, ice cream can cool our heated outbursts of emotion and creamy, warm, familiar foods will bring comfort in a heartbeat. We know if food is abundant or if it is scarce.

Another message we receive at this time is that our own bodily sensations are secondary to behaving according to the rules. This ensues when we are told we must wait until mealtime to eat and that we must clean our plates; or, that we are eating too much or too little. These common parenting practices can serve to teach us that our own feelings are not valid and can begin to detach us from natural signals of hunger and fullness. Age-appropriate feeding should match and support the normal physiological and growth needs of young children. (An understanding of the principles of feeding dynamics are best gleaned by reading the work of Ellyn Satter, social worker and dietitian who pioneered research in this area. Her Division of Responsibility in Feeding should be the crux of all childhood nutrition education.)

When we are a little older we may begin to experience disconnects regarding food and our bodies. As little children, we do not differentiate ourselves from our environment. This sense of separation–and its attendant self-awareness–does not occur until a child reaches the age of eight or nine. But, with the early introduction of media and abstract reasoning in both schooling and socialization, this change is happening at an earlier age. I believe this is why eating disorders now manifest in younger kids.

Exposure to a barrage of images with distorted messages about feeding, body image, and personal values affects everyone, but it is particularly detrimental to at-risk individuals. Unfortunately, we cannot identify who is at risk. Interestingly, non-industrialized cultures only begin to show eating disordered behaviors after television becomes available.

With self-awakening, we are catapulted into self-reflection. Girls navigating through this time yearn to be let into the “club”. We enter the kitchen; we sidle up to our mothers, their friends, the aunties, and the older sisters. We listen to their rich stories and are sensitive to their attitudes and judgments. Often we hear women dissect and belittle their bodies, and the chant of the societal and personal mantra “I’m so fat” begins to penetrate our beings. We take all of this and figuratively stuff it into our new training bras and bikini underpants as our bodies begin to take on form and shape.

This is a very vulnerable period in the evolution of feeding behaviors. As a girl’s body begins to change rapidly, and she experiences the emotional and physical hunger that accompanies that growth, any chaos, fear, abuse or significant uncertainty in the outer environment can cause the body to become the battlefield for unexpressed emotions. We can stuff emotions down by overeating or we can deaden them by starvation. For some, negative comments from important male figures can solidify maladaptive behaviors that might have otherwise remained transient. Though girls may be more susceptible to this change, boys are by no means immune when they begin their maturation.

By adolescence, the stage is essentially set as the cascade of sex hormones takes up residence, settles in and rounds out the edges of our physical and emotional beings. After this huge developmental landmark, barring a few other components like what we eat, we just ride the waves, responding to food based on the summation of our earlier nature and nurture experiences.

Does this resonate with you? In honor of this week, please take a moment to think about your own story. No judgment, no blame, just acknowledge it. There may be much to actually appreciate. Practice replacing bitter feelings about your body with kind thoughts. Refrain from all trash talk about other people’s size as well as your own. If you suffer, or if you know someone who does, or if you just care about this subject, please find appropriate and supportive resources including the National Eating Disorder Association. Any sharings here will be deeply honored.

Thank you for listening, sharing, following and supporting my writing. Please subscribe in the sidebar to receive notice of new posts. Comments and greetings always welcome.

In health, Elyn

culture clash

Dec26

A new client arrived at my office. She was an Iraqi woman–a refugee of the war in her country. She had made it to my little corner of the planet by some grace and the help of her three adult sons who she was lucky to still have in her embrace. One of her sons was present with her for the appointment and served as our interpreter.

The woman was about my age, just a year or two older. She was referred to me for high cholesterol–which is a usual raison d’etre for getting put on my schedule. Though there are so many things the human heart can suffer from that may affect our health and hardiness, there are only a few we can measure easily and then neatly deem abnormal. Cholesterol and blood pressure levels are of course the most common. One spin of the sphygmomanometer or a few fatty drops in the blood is the determinant of our health risks. The regulation and control of these resultant measurements become the pressing story, while the real matters of the heart get deeply lost in the sauce.

My client with warm shining eyes beaming at me from under her headscarf had been treated for breast cancer a few years ago while still in Iraq and had not had much follow-up care since her odyssey had begun. She had only been in the United States for a few months. She was dressed in full Muslim garb, ensconced in a lot of fabric. Awkwardly, she adjusted her clothing to reveal to me some loosely wrapped gauze lying limply around her upper arm to contain the swelling of lymphedema. The consult contained fragments of conversation as I tried to piece together some semblance of her health history and her saga of survival. A Picture Of One Of The Doors Of Al-Kadhimiya Mosque, It ...

As I was engaged in my own fact-finding mission, and trying to figure out how I could best assist her in the short time I had, she was gesturing toward me while speaking in Arabic. While I was simultaneously trying to stay very present and yet trying to search for contact numbers of local resources, her son was gently interpreting her words for me. She was apparently commenting on my seemingly well-behaved body that has obediently stayed within the confines of acceptable shape and form. She referred to her own body with shame and regret.

As her meaning crystallized before me, the tears welled behind my eyes. This beautiful woman inhabited a body that manifested the pain of many inflictions. She had traveled half the globe to find a tiny sanctum of political refuge and safety. While living in the midst of unbelievable violence I am sure she lost a lot more besides her girlish figure. How dare she not tend to her weight and diet like I had while my government had torn her country asunder and bombed it to pieces. I beseeched her not to compare and mumbled my apologies while the irony of our human vanities swept over me.

With this turning of the year, as I pray for peace on earth, I will carry her story with me and wish her the very best.

Thank you for listening, sharing, following and supporting my writing. Please subscribe in the sidebar to receive notice of new posts. Comments and greetings always welcome.

To all of you, A Happy and Healthy New Year.

Photo Credit: Al-Kadhimiya Mosque rasoulali/123RH.com

In health, Elyn

Bamia: Stewed Meat with Okra

Okra stew served in a bowl

Iraqi MyPlate by Amina hungrypaprikas.com/okra-stew

My Plate Poem

As we walked away from our grandparents’ houses

Away from the places we knew as children, changes of state and state and state

To stumble across a stony desert, or to brave the deep waters

While food and friends, home, a bed

Even a blanket become just memories.

by Neil (Gaiman)

you ain’t necessarily misbehavin’-part 1

Dec16

Why is this question of nourishing ourselves so difficult? We all know there are some basic concepts surrounding the care and feeding of the human being, but unfortunately, we are not equipped with an owner’s manual. Therefore, as we move through our lives requiring food for both emotional and physical survival, we respond to our needs with some twist based on our own experience; and clearly, some confusion often occurs along the way.

Looking at this question might enable us to have more compassion for ourselves and others in this realm where there is so much self-loathing and self-recrimination. There is probably no other activity that we do with so much community and yet such isolation as feeding ourselves. In the emotional terrain of eating, no feeding decision is made because we are a bad, weak or disgusting person. I use those words because that is how people feel and describe themselves. Image result for mom diner sign images

As a nutritionist, I sit in small rooms hearing people’s stories about their relationship with food, eating and their bodies. These stories are spilling over into the “street buzz” of daily conversation as people are being increasingly consumed by a fear of food and shame and loathing of their bodies. In workshops, I lead an exercise asking people to write down a negative thought they have had about their body that day. I then ask them to write a good quality about themselves that is not related to body image. Reconciling the two is hard to do. Realizing that such wonderful people could be feeling so badly about themselves is enough to make anyone cry.

The power and capacity for these feelings to diminish the human experience is profound and insidious, yet we rarely consider how complicated is the source of the issues. However, such consideration provides an important perspective and may shift where we point the finger. By separating out those aspects related to self-nourishment that we have control over, from those that we don’t, we can perhaps alleviate some of this suffering and can enhance prevention efforts which may be more effective than current remedial strategies.

To understand the distinctions, and to get just a glimpse of how many factors there are, entails a look at human development. Much of our food tendencies begin while we are still pickling in the brine of our mothers’ wombs. Our chromosomal template influences not only our adult body size and shape but more subtle biological processes as well. How efficiently our metabolisms will burn, how our brains will interpret satiety, and how and where we will store fat is all rather pre-programmed on one’s personal dance card—imprinted essentially when sperm meets egg. Our ability to resist a piece of chocolate cake is apparently even coded in our DNA. Some individuals are genetically better “resisters” than others. Who knew, right?

Likewise, women have more sensitive taste buds than men. That second X chromosome can translate into a tendency for food distaste and picky eating that is formed before we are even born. Other aspects of the maternal milieu–or in other words, our intrauterine environment–including our mother’s diet, blood sugar regulation, and calorie availability also will have an effect on our own taste inclinations and feeding behaviors after we are born. Our first eating experience really happens at Mom’s Diner. Pretty crazy.

And that is just the beginning. For now, just chew on this, and in the spirit of loving ourselves, consider how such an appreciation of how we have arrived where we are through very little fault of our own, can translate into some gentle acceptance instead of the usual flagellation with figurative wet noodles–be they whole wheat, gluten-free or basic semolina.

I do not intend to suggest that we absolve ourselves of responsibility for our health and eating behaviors, or that we should just throw in the towel, but perhaps such a reflection can help us to accept ourselves more for who we are and to put a lid on the negative self speak about our bodies. Such scolding and negative reinforcements will never lead to positive change.

Let us return food to its own natural place and let us reclaim our birthright of health. Remember that there is a beautiful light that shines in all of us. Believe that it is there. Keep trying. We can create a new reality for ourselves.

Thank you for listening, sharing, following and supporting my writing. Please subscribe in the sidebar to receive notice of new posts. Comments and greetings always welcome.

In health, Elyn

Stopping Traffic

Dec7

“The public is silent when young women die.” charges Naomi Wolf, author of The Beauty Myth.

I have just returned from an annual conference that I attend on Eating Disorders. The conference, in its eleventh year, is sponsored by The Nutrition Clinic and Sol Stone (Update 2020: Upstate New York Eating Disorder Service); Clearpath Healing Arts Center; and Ophelia’s Place who work together to form a strong, sensitive and progressive treatment network in central New York.

Image by Mystic Art Design at Pixabay

Each year, near the end of the conference, a handful of individuals in the recovery stage of their eating disorder are invited up to share some part of their story. This is, of course, the most enlightening and always most emotional part of the day. The wisdom acquired in overcoming such a strong opponent is very deep and these very intelligent women articulate it beautifully.

This day, a young woman in her mid-twenties, stood before the two hundred or more attendees and shared that in the darkest days of her eating disorder, she almost walked into traffic–but only stopped herself because she felt it would be immoral to place such a horrible burden on whoever might have killed her. To witness someone so young describe such a depth of despair was both bone-chilling and deeply heart-opening.

On some level, we know that there are people who are suffering from eating disorders, but essentially they are invisible. However, when one is privy to the stories of those who have had one of these crippling conditions; and you couple that with statistics like one in 100 individuals has an eating disorder—it is imaginable that there are truly some “walking dead” amongst us.

To offer some response to this young woman who had the courage to expose her pain and vulnerability and who has found the strength to persevere and to heal, I bring to this conversation– about the realities of eaters and eating– a discussion about eating disorders. I know that it does not do justice to the topic. It is a contorted and rather incomplete version of something I have written before. But, it seems a fitting time for me to introduce this part of the story. In honor of that woman and the four others who stood before me a few days ago, please consider the following.

We may have seen or heard about someone who is nibbling on only lettuce and carrots at mealtimes; wearing heavy clothing in moderate temperatures; exhibiting extreme weight loss; exercising excessively or appearing listless at a team practice or dance class. But, to the inexperienced eye, even extreme physical changes or behaviors can be overlooked or ignored. We may have even encountered someone who we suspected was suffering from an eating disorder, but we did not know what to do or say.

Most definitely, we have all had dealings with eating disordered individuals whose behaviors escaped our radar screen. The very nature of eating disorders is secretive and manipulative. Average-weight or over-weight individuals may be suffering as much as their noticeably underweight counterparts; older persons as well as younger ones; and men as well as women. Compounding the issue is that in certain environments like high schools and college campuses—but in the larger world as well—there is a “culture of thinness”. In such environments, underweight individuals can appear almost normal looking. Responses to eating disorders can include, “Oh, I wish I had that problem”, or “Why don’t they just eat?”

Even when we are cognizant and concerned about eating disorders, it is impossible to consider or measure the loss of potential and achievement, the degree of nutrient deficiencies, the magnitude of depression and anxiety, the potential for long-term health problems, and the possibility of sudden death from complications or suicide that eating disorders engender.

Eating disorders tend to leave people feeling frustrated, confused and helpless. Despite this normal reaction, it is really important that our society and our public health policymakers begin to better acknowledge, support and treat those with these disorders. Without intervention, chances for a full recovery are slim for those with severe conditions.

I have discussed my concern about the panicked way in which we are “battling” obesity. For many, overeating is an eating disorder–as deserving of a very sensitive and holistic approach to care as does “undereating”. We have the opportunity, and perhaps the obligation, to create an environment and dialogue that challenges the attitudes that make individuals feel bad about their bodies and that feed the medium in which all eating disorders thrive.

We can only hear the wisdom of those who have confronted an eating disorder if we are very quiet. If we can move the lens away from the obesity issue and reframe the disgust we harbor about fat, we may realize there is a gentler and more important conversation to be had about feeding, eating, and nourishment.

Frances Berg writes, “Our children, our daughters, and sons, are growing up afraid to eat, afraid to gain weight, afraid to grow and mature in normal ways. They are desperate to have the right bodies, obsessed with the need to be thin and fearful they won’t be loved until they reach perfection. This is the point to which our weight-obsessed culture has brought us. Our children are innocent victims.”

Thank you for listening, sharing, following and supporting my writing. Please subscribe in the sidebar to receive notice of new posts. Comments and greetings always welcome.

In health, Elyn

Are you the 1 in 4?

Dec1

Some serious news has crossed this nutritionist’s desk. A new study published in Obstetrics and Gynecology and reported by Science Daily shows that 25% of overweight women do not know they are overweight! C’mon. I can see maybe not knowing if you have high blood pressure or an obnoxious personality, but I am pretty sure overweight women are not walking around too delusional.

Image from Pinterest

Of course, once again it is those Black and Hispanic women who seem to be most in the dark about their weight status, along with women who hang with other fat women. But, it could happen to anyone–even you. Do you know your body mass index (BMI)? If not, it is quite possible that you too are a misinformed blob.

This type of media messaging drives me insane. The study involved asking ‘childbearing-aged women’ (oddly, only those aged 18-25) some objective and out-of-context multiple-choice type questions about a very subjective issue. The responses were matched to the (once again) imperfect BMI and the results were interpreted to show that 25% of overweight and obese women didn’t realize they were fat. The study authors conclude from this that this misperception will “lead women to continue to eat poorly, to gain more weight and to eventually develop the complications of obesity”. As opposed to those who are fully aware of their corpulence? If you didn’t deem your body ugly and problematic and its BMI was any higher than a 25–the threshold of gluttony–you clearly have had your head in the ice cream freezer for too long. Tell me, who gets these research dollars? I want some.

The study authors say that they were not surprised by the results based on their belief system that “as the nation’s obesity rate grows, it becomes more socially acceptable to be overweight and the truth becomes obscured.” Those who can no longer see their toes must now be mightily perplexed.

The lead study author says, “people compare themselves to those closest to themselves”. I am not really sure what that means. I presume she is reiterating this other new belief, that if all your friends are fat, and if you are fat, you think that is normal. I thought I was a “normal” weight woman, but, now I’m wondering if maybe I just think I’m “normal” because I spend my days with high-weight people–and can no longer assess my own size.

I work with some real heavyweights. My clients have BMIs in the thirties, forties, and fifties. I realize the privilege and responsibility I have in talking to people about the very intimate topic of weight and body size. Having done this work for many years, I think I have a deep respect for the territory, but on occasion, I too may overstep the boundaries. Sometimes, I am compelled to inform someone that their health may be at risk when it is my conjecture and not their truth.

My days are filled with having very insightful and meaningful conversations with very reality-based individuals–each with their own profound story about eating, diet, and self-care. And all that has influenced these. Most usually, my clients seem to appreciate having an opportunity to safely talk about these sensitive issues. Most are interested in change not because they suddenly realized they were fat, but because something else is impacting their physical or emotional experience. Some have had previous efforts trying to melt away their fat–others, are trying to figure out where to even start.

When they are with me, my clients are very nice, but for all I know, behind my back, they are probably calling me skinny, undernourished, or bony. Perhaps it is time for fat people to reclaim normal and to expand the derogatory language used to describe skinny people. I offer hyperactive, self-absorbed, or neurotic. However, mind you, many are just genetically under-endowed. Overlooked in the dialogue about appropriate weight is that the vigilance, self-scrutinizing. attaining and maintaining required is much more of a privilege associated with socioeconomic status than is acknowledged generally or by the study’s authors.

I would like to advance the Peter Paul Rubens standard of sensual Rubenesque beauty and health. A standard that allows people to feel comfortable in their bodies in the way that much classical art portrays. It’s likely that when we were created in the great creator’s image, a little pudge was part of the package. The correlation between weight and health is not a black-and-white issue as we have been led to believe. Some fat reserves may even be protective.

It should be noted that some of the subjects included in this study were indicated to be postpartum, a particularly complicated, specific, and weight-shifting metabolic period. This mix of non-post-partum and post-partum women, along with other aspects of the study design and its assumptions, makes me leery of its conclusions. Particularly when it also states that “normal weight misperceivers”, or those whose BMI fell within the normal range but perceived that they were overweight, were more likely to engage in unhealthy behaviors including dieting, meal skipping, smoking, and carbohydrate restricting than the overweight subjects.

I am not dismissing that there are serious health issues associated with excessive weight. But, at this point in the game, I would expect a more sophisticated and nuanced understanding of the situation such as that presented by Cara Kulciwki in The Curvature. Based on studies like these, I am just praying that car mechanics don’t start handing out a questionnaire to childbearing-aged women about auto maintenance beliefs and behaviors. When that happens, watch out suburban white women, for we will be royally humiliated. I bet at least 1 in 4 of us mistakenly believes that our tires are properly inflated and that our oil crankcase is full.

Thank you for listening, sharing, following, and supporting my writing. Please subscribe in the sidebar to receive notice of new posts. Comments and greetings are always welcome.

In health, Elyn

the nutritionist's dilemma

a nutritionist's musings on the realities of eaters and eating

Archives

dear you, the readers

yesterday

how can you say no to a brownie?

muse of the girl

you ain’t necessarily misbehavin’– part 2

culture clash

you ain’t necessarily misbehavin’-part 1

Stopping Traffic

Are you the 1 in 4?