Finally Enjoying Dessert
Having dessert is no longer reserved for special occasions. Actually, sometimes it’s after lunch and dinner! Nothing fancy. It can be as simple as a thin biscuit cookie topped with a layer of milk chocolate. It’s whatever will make me close my eyes and savor the moment. So what’s the big deal? Why am I sharing? I suppose I’m elated that it only took me 47 years to figure out it’s okay to have dessert.
What Took so Long
I get that this is no major revelation for a lot of folks. I’m also going to guess that I was not alone in forbidding myself the simple pleasure of a sweet treat. I was too concerned with:
watching my waist-line
consuming empty calories
the health pitfalls of consuming too much sugar.
Really, it was just #1. I don’t ever remember a time when I was not overly concerned with what I look like. I’m not talking about shoes and clothes but what I actually look like. Since I was a young girl, I was always described as “skinny”. Lucky for me, I grew up in a culture where that’s actually considered a compliment. A combination of genes and playing sports made it easy for this to become part of my identity. Cue the eye-roll.
Once I was no longer playing sports, I busted my ass in the gym, running and biking to make sure I stayed “skinny”. Being the skinny girl was part of my identity, and I didn’t want to lose it. Eating dessert just seemed counter-productive. Why bust my ass and sacrifice sleep to get a run in, if I was just going to blow it all on cake? That was my logic.
What Changed
Battling chronic nausea from anxiety overdrive in January of 2019 was my thunderbolt. That month was the first time I had ever dealt with such persistent nausea to the point that I was surviving off of Jello, apple slices and on a good day some chicken broth. I dropped 14 lbs. that month. As my stomach growled, I regretted the countless times I would intentionally go hungry or watch everyone else enjoy cake for the sake of not gaining weight. Stupid. That’s how I felt. All I wanted in those moments of feeling like shit was to feel good enough to finally enjoy cake. All I thought about was wanting to feel good enough to eat whatever the fuck I wanted to eat. In those moments, I couldn’t believe how many times I had been so unkind to my mind as to deprive it of something as basic as dessert. So, I made myself a promise. If I could get out of this hole I was in, I was going to have dessert. I was going to eat whenever I was hungry. I would stop forcing myself to deal with smaller portions for the sake of not gaining weight. But mostly, I was going to have dessert!
Dealing with the Nausea
I’m grateful to report that those days of chronic nausea are in my rear-view mirror. During those weeks, my way around the cause of my nausea was to smoke weed. Yep. I got high. Multiple times a day. I would light up and take a couple tokes to open up my appetite. I’m unsure if smoking pot actually numbed the nausea or if it just diverted my fixation over to food. All I know is, I wanted to eat. And I also knew, this can’t be a long-term solution. About a month after my pot-smoking days, I met with a therapist. I discovered that I had spent so many days without eating due to nausea that I had inadvertently developed a fear of food. I had vivid recollections of many times when I had onsets of nausea at the beginning of a meal. I didn’t realize during those meals what was happening, so I just associated the food in front of me with not feeling well. I would get hit with a surge of heat and lump in my throat. Now, I know I was experiencing panic attacks. Why it happened so frequently during meals; unsure. My therapist gave me “homework” to guide me out of this fear of food. Amazing. It didn’t happen overnight, but I have yet to go back to such a debilitating place with nausea. Actually, since then, I haven’t had any bouts of nausea. Have I gained the weight back? Absolutely. Do I give a shit? Nope. I really don’t give a rat’s ass at this point. Not saying I’m not mindful of eating healthy and getting exercise, but I give zero fucks about the scale and my dress size. I believe wholeheartedly that we should all care about what we put into our bodies and find ways to exercise and stay active. But, I don’t believe we should fixate on achieving a certain number on the scale. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to wake up one day and look like Halle Berry in a two-piece 😜! The difference is I’m no longer willing to sacrifice things like adequate sleep and accept hunger migraines to get there.
Eating Dessert
Now for the cherry on top! I love dessert. I love the way it makes me feel. I love having something to look forward to and treating myself. Do I go absolutely ballistic and crush a whole pack of Oreos? NO. I don’t eat every sweet treat that’s put in front of me, and actually, I’m a bit picky about my cake! But, like so many other things in life, it’s about balance. It’s about finally realizing the importance of treating my mind with the same care and attention I’ve always treated my physical body. I feel like I spent most of my life punishing myself for not looking a certain way no matter how much I exercised and skipped dessert. No more putting my mind in a corner for a timeout because of a number on the scale. If I’m not super bloated from splitting a large pizza with my husband, and I want a sweet treat, then I’m having a sweet treat. Best dessert of all that I’ve discovered on this journey? Butterbeer donuts. OMFG. They blow my mind EVERY SINGLE TIME! And if I lived walking distance to Cafe Du Monde, those beignets would be in my belly every freaking week❣
Cheers to more dessert in our lives 🧡
