Obesity - A Real Diet Story

 

Diet: What typically comes to mind with this word is restriction. Withholding food to lose weight. But by definition, diet also means the kinds of foods a person habitually eats. It’s shaped by our environment, family traditions, subconscious thoughts, and even our genes.

Today, I’m focusing on the latter and sharing my #realdietstory

At first writing, my story down felt therapeutic but then I got stuck. Darkness, doubt, insecurity washed over me and I stopped.

It’s time to be real. I’m breaking down the walls, unleashing what I’ve kept suppressed for so long. This is my #realdietstory.

My childhood way of eating would best be described as a typical "Indian diet” with a nutritionist-twist. My mom majored in nutrition and soon became a full-time stay-at-home mom. She cooked mostly from scratch. Think lots of butter, ghee and Creamy cheesy pasta and burgers on the grill. But there was also Pizza Hut pizza, Nachos, gravy chow, French fries. However, these less-nourishing options were always paired with carrot sticks, a glass of milk, or broccoli. It was a loving balance. A mix of salads and doughnut dates, oatmeal and Lucky Charm, homemade meatballs and McDonald’s Happy Meals. She did her best to make all food welcome but teach moderation and balance.

ADOLESCENCE:

Looking back I can see how life events during this time played into shaping my relationship with food. My family moved when I was seven. Even though we were now closer to family, the change, switching schools multiple times, and the news of not being an only child anymore caused me to have continuous panic attacks and separation anxiety. By age 8 I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety with my biggest symptom being feeling sick to my stomach. This feeling occurred so often to me that it became my biggest fear.

At this time my relationship with food was still the same and I didn’t give food much thought. However, I can now see this is where my unhealthy relationship with food started to take root. To help with my anxiety, the counsellor recommended numerous self-calming techniques, one of which was using cinnamon to help ease my stomach and help me relax. While this helped, it turned into me consuming an entire tin of cinnamon Altoids daily. I found comfort in these mints and completely relied on them to get me through a school day. In addition, it was suggested to try eliminating dairy with the thought that I was lactose-intolerant and it would alleviate any actual stomach aches I was having. While I loved the idea of being able to make lemonade to lunch, I now see that this restriction started shaping by subconscious thoughts, associating certain foods with feeling sick and labelling them off-limits.

I moved again when I was fourteen. It was another transition. I was making friends, slowly but surely. My grade school was small and the 7th-grade girls already had their clicks. The cattiness was starting, and pointing out flaws during these pubescent years was not uncommon.

This is where it started. Who knew at 13 years old, the things that were said to me would trigger such a downward spiral years later. Facebook’s honesty box was all the rage. I couldn’t tell you the nice things people ever said, only that “thunder thighs”, “shave your moustache”, and “gorilla arms” will be imprinted in my memory forever. I begin realizing my weight and started comparing myself to others girls my age.

I loved playing. Badminton was my favourite sport. I weight trained and condition outside of practice, so I had strong legs and a very muscular build compared to other girls my age. Due to my activity level and still growing, I could easily down a 12 oz smoothie packed with granola, and three pieces of toast doused in cinnamon and sugar after school and still be hungry for dinner. I never thought too much about what I should eat since I was essentially burning through the food so quickly.

HIGH SCHOOL AND MY COLLEGE DAYS:

Then came high school... I became deeply committed to my studies.. conditioning, And with it was my mother's illness. I was wearing a lot of thunderbolts to be able to pass my board exams in front of everything. That time was very challenging for me. I kept trying to figure out how to overcome all obstacles. However, the time was 2012 when my mother was admitted to the hospital. Her physical illness and disability and with it the board exam was nothing more to me than the biggest pain in the world. My mother was hospitalized for 31 days. Was disabled after undergoing many major surgeries of the spinal cord.

I was a laughing stock to everyone from a young age but I was very good to some other people and they helped me on this sad day...."Let me know if I can help you in any way. I want you to be able to give you full attention where it’s needed."

During this time, any trace of youthful spirit in me ceased to be as I forced myself to become an adult. I had to do things no child imagines having to do for their parent. I took my shift after my father and helped my mother with eating, drinking and mobility as she struggled with this issue. I would stay up all night sitting beside her in case she needed anything. I had to be a bright, positive, shining aura for both my nearly dying mother and my fatigued father when all around me as a storm. But I did shine even when I was hiding my tears, I shine for them. I helped my father with greatly needed breaks as he worked the harder day shifts and had been there on his own helping my mother for months before. I put every one of my energy into helping my mother with her Health. 

Soon, test days keep coming forward. I didn't want to bother, I wanted desperately to stay with my mother. But mom said it would make her happy if I completed my exams and I listened to her., Stupidly again. 

I left regretfully my house and sat for my board exam. Just as I took my last exam my mother decided it was time for her to come home. She barely made it.

 It was during this time that I realized the importance of motherhood in our lives...

After the day of the thunderstorm, the time is getting better.

Then I turned Eighteen. With being able to drive came more house parties and in turn, came alcohol. Despite my commitment to my health issues the weekends I was in town, I was ready to live up. My friends and I would chug beers and pound down shots using soda as chasers. Drinking just get drunk almost every weekend. Binge drinking regularly mixed with nights of scarfing down pizza, fast-food tacos, and chips and cheese dip did not sit well with my waistline. I vividly remember noticing my school uniform skirt getting tighter and declaring to my mom I needed to go on a diet.

And that’s just what I did. First, I started cutting back on soda, candy fried food. The typical junk foods. Then all of a sudden I became obsessed. I set a weight goal and limited myself to 1800 calories a day. I didn’t pay too much attention to what I was eating as long as it fits into my day’s goal. However, the sugar-laden “diet” foods (read: anything thins, light, low-fat) made it a whole lot easier to stay within my goal. If it was the weekend, I’d plan on my alcohol and restrict my food. I was still training daily so my activity level reminded the same. I figured how much I could get by with eating while still being able to have the energy to perform. Once the pounds started coming off, I was elated. Plus, I was getting compliments which only escalated my obsession.

My relationship with foods became completely unhealthy. Food was no longer fuel but the thing that would make me fat. I kept my fat intake low and started avoiding meat. Sweets were out of the question. I reached my weight goal but as I said before, it became an obsession. There was always someone smaller and prettier I would seek out and idolize. Always comparing and never satisfied. My diet became my control and calorie counting my way of life.

Even after attending outpatient therapy for my eating disorder senior year of high school, this continued into the first part of college. I was eating enough to meet my needs and activity level but I still clung to the number game inside my head. Calorie counting was a daily habit for everything I put into my mouth.

It wasn’t until I transferred into the Nutrition and Dietetics major that my mindset started to slowly change. Learning about the body’s chemistry and the function of nutrients on a cellular level allowed me to start feeling more comfortable around food and focus on the importance of getting an adequate amount of all the nutrients. Learning about different foods and their relationship to disease helped emphasize the importance of eating whole, unprocessed foods. The more knowledgeable I became on the health benefits of plants, the more I started to gravitate to a vegetarian diet.

I’d be lying if I said there was no eating disorder thinking playing a role in my dietary preferences at the time. Defining my diet as vegetarian gave me the ability to cover up any disordered eating restrictions with a label. Because of my personality type, this also became an obsession and my vegetarian diet turned into a vegan diet, only because I was able to restrict more. I was convinced I was being the healthiest version of myself by eating a vegan diet.

Truthfully this was nowhere near healthy. Aside from unnecessary restrictions, I wasn’t feeling my best. I began to develop IBS symptoms and felt fatigued. I sought out doctors and started by toying around with the idea of possible sensitivities, all while ignoring the fact that my mindset and restrictions are the underlying cause. However, I continued like this out of routine, comfort, and fear of not having the restriction and vegan label to cling to.