I am doing well. Awesome, actually. I’m on a great path. I’m strong, I’m focused, and I’ve achieved great success. I feel amazing. To reward myself, I will eat whatever I want. I’ve earned it. I will eat beyond when I’m full. I will eat until I feel sick. And for a moment, it will feel good. Being overfull will be satisfying, comfortable, familiar. Then things will take a turn, and I will feel bad. I will feel guilty. I will feel worse, like a failure, and I will be disappointed. This is not a celebration.

Food is everywhere and it is meant for everything. At the very least, it is fuel for our bodies. This is true, but rarely do our feelings of food stop there. No, food is much more than that. Food is comfort. Food is love. Food is celebration. Food is home.

We bring food to comfort our loved ones through a hard time. We provide food to show appreciation. We have food to celebrate a big occasion. We use food to welcome our family home, to show our love, to share a piece of ourselves. Food is part of our memory base. We get nostalgic for home-cooked meals, or we describe an event by talking about how good the food was. In fact, most often, food is where we start when planning an occasion.

So, what happens when food turns on us? What happens when it’s no longer a celebration, but a downfall? When it no longer is exciting and feels good, but instead makes you feel out of control, shameful, and disgusting? How do we turn food back from foe to friend?

I’m someone who considers herself to have a food addiction. I’ve never had a doctor write that in my chart, but they don’t have to. My relationship with food is stronger than most of the relationships in my life, for better or for worse. I’ve had times when food has been my biggest enemy and times when food has been my most loyal friend. It has gotten me through my hardest times, and has also created some harder ones. To me, it isn’t a question of whether or not I’m hungry; it’s a question of whether or not something is missing from my life. And if so, my go-to experiment is to see if food can fix it.

With this confession, it should be no surprise that the decision to change my life, although the best decision I’ve made, has also been a hard one. It was me breaking up with the longest standing partner I had. It was me letting go the relationship to which I had been most loyal. And there are days I miss it.

I wouldn’t go back permanently, but there are times when I let myself visit “the ex.” I flirt with food that’s slightly off plan, look forward to the date I have set where there will be no restrictions, and allow myself to enjoy every second of it. I never feel guilty about these moments because they are allowed. After all, food is part of everything. We aren’t required to give up on its excitement just because we are choosing to be healthy. We are just required to stay in control of it, to practice moderation. So, I have no regrets after controlled decisions to enjoy the food celebration.

It’s the other moments I regret. The moments where food sneaks up on me, takes control, taunts me, and I allow myself to ignore my long-term goals for the sake of immediate, delicious satisfaction. The problem is the satisfaction is never as sweet as I think it will be, nor as long lasting. It’s painful and leaves destruction in its wake.

It’s after one of these moments that I find myself reflective. Yes, food is good, can be beautiful, and is a very big part of our culture, even in positive ways. It can, and perhaps should, be used to celebrate moments in life. But, we can’t let its power become confused. We can’t allow ourselves to assume that the more food we have, the better, as if we are soaking up more and more of the beauty of the moment. We can’t allow food to overshadow the actual celebration. Because make no mistake about it, feeling overfull, shameful, embarrassed, and sick is not a party. Feelings of being out of control and self-destructive are nothing to celebrate.

Tonight I remind myself that I have worked too hard for too long to get out of my one-sided, abusive, unhealthy relationship with food, and I will not simply run back to it because life throws a few obstacles my way that make me crave its familiar comfort. I will leave behind the notion that food is my companion- the one thing that always seems to be there- and I will instead remind myself that I am worth companions who can listen, speak, lend me a helping hand, express love and appreciation, and feel things I feel. I will continue forward on this path that will undoubtedly lead me to a place where food is once again part of the party, but the real celebration is the brilliant life I’ve created with loyal friends and loving family, unconditional love, and healthy, addictive, belly-aching laughter. Cheers to all the things that truly do make this a wonderful life!