I sometimes feel like I’ve obsessed about food my whole life. I have a tendency to enjoy eating. I love flavors. Textures. Food. Even as a child, I read cookbooks, looking for recipes to make. I’ve always enjoyed cooking.
Here’s the thing. I tend to be overweight. I’ve tried cutting calories, I’ve done Weight Watchers and became a lifetime member. And yet I’m still overweight.
I. Like. To. Eat. So I’ve changed my relationship with food.
I’m through apologizing for being hungry. If eating a bowl of ice cream makes me happy, then I’m going to be happy.
I know people who talk about good food and bad food. “Oh, I was bad and ate a crumb of fudge, so now I can’t eat anything except lettuce for a week.” Did the fudge make you happy? Does lettuce make you happy?
My categories are different. Do I like it? Then it’s a good food. Do I hate it? Then it’s a bad food.