A hand gripping and twisting my stomach
A useless idea constantly invading my mind
A feeling of deprivation, weakness, wanting
Or being punished by someone mean.
Food is my constant friend
Instant pleasure whenever I want it
I’m in control of the amount, taste, texture
How could I possibly find a better friend?
Food stands for so many things:
Sweetness, gooiness, crunch, warmth
“Something I can sink my teeth into”
The dance of satiation
Being empty, full; empty, full
Identical to the bonding cycle
Of need, fulfillment; need, fulfillment.
You can get away with some bad habits when younger
But they finally catch up with you.
Maybe I’m finally happy enough
To find satisfaction in the rest of my life.
A friend told me in wonder,
“My friend went through menopause;
She stopped being interested in sex
And started getting all her pleasure from eating.
I said, “You mean she wasn’t always that way?
I always have been.”
You mean some people aren’t that way?
What a foreign idea.
Another friend who lost weight said,
“I just had to give up everything I like!”
But I’ll settle for giving up pleasure
As long as I’m not starving.
Eating white flour feels like a drug to me.
It fills me, satisfies me, gives me a buzz.
The only problem is that I can’t stop.
I want to eat it forever.
My new secret is to eat foods
That I don’t hate, but aren’t my favorites.
I’ve replaced all the foods on my “like” list
With foods on my “okay” list.
Gone are cookies, cake, pastries, ice cream,
Bread, pasta, pizza, potatoes.
Embraced are salads, veges, oats, nuts,
Meat, eggs, beans, fruit.
And a different motto:
My health, marriage and self-image
Are more important
Than shoveling a bunch of garbage into my face.
Another important commitment
Is to not weighing myself, ever.
If I weigh myself I either think:
“I’m not losing any weight; forget this diet!”
Or, “I’m losing weight; I can afford to splurge!”
Better to commit to a lifestyle.
Of good food choices,
And a different support system,
Of people, not food.
Daria Doering 
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