Secrets of a Former Fat Girl (17 page)

I had spent years envying people whose lives didn't revolve around food, who could eat with true abandon. I used to watch in awe as they indulged unselfconsciously, wondering what it would be like to be able to do that. Wondering if I'd ever be able to take a bite of something that wasn't on the official list of diet foods (celery sticks, saltine crackers, skinless chicken breasts—you know them by heart) and not hear a voice in my head ask, “Do you really think you should?”

My mistake was in thinking that silencing that voice would be as easy as switching off an annoying talk radio show. But as I thought about what Kim said, I began to realize that, at least for me, it wouldn't be easy. It
couldn't
be easy. I had all those Fat Girl feelings to deal with. It wasn't like I could hit some “off” button and they'd disappear.

It began to make sense to me why living by some list of officially sanctioned diet foods never worked for me before, why the different weight loss gimmicks, no matter how scientifically solid, never budged the needle on the scale much. For me it was more about
how
to eat than
what
to eat. I had to make my own way; I had to take the nuggets of wisdom in my weight loss experiences of the past, toss in all those Fat Girl feelings associated with food, and frappe them together into a new Former Fat Girl formula.

Realizing that I had a unique relationship with food helped me stop comparing myself to the people around me and to accept that I had to make my own choices based on who I was. I began to be okay with the fact that while everyone else at the table was chowing down on chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes, I was munching on a chef salad (dressing on the side, no ham, no cheese). I began to stop expecting myself to leave half of my dessert on the plate as other girls seemed to do so easily. I began to accept the fact that for me it was better not to order it in the first place, because once it was in front of me, there was no stopping. I began to define a “new normal” for myself, one that was based on a true understanding of my feelings and attitudes about food as a Fat Girl.

I knew I was different, and I also knew what I wanted. I wanted a body I could be proud of and feel truly comfortable in. But I also wanted to start treating myself well. I wanted to feed myself well, keep myself well watered, nurture myself as you do a seed that you're trying to coax into a flower. I wanted to be healthy and feel the energy and confidence that comes from living healthfully. I wanted to continue to take the kind of risks I had just started to take—meeting new people and trying new things—without letting fear or any kind of physical limitations stop me. And I knew that recognizing and dealing with my unique relationship with food would be key to getting me there.

Work with Your Differences

It might not be the easiest thing for you to embrace the whole “You are not like other people” idea. At first it could seem like a confirmation of how you've always felt—like an outsider, a misfit. I know it did for me. I had spent my whole life wanting to belong, and “You are not like other people” wasn't exactly an invitation to an exclusive party.

Deep down, though, it all makes sense. There has to be a reason that you haven't been able to stick with a diet long enough to reach your goal weight. There has to be a reason that you have to diet at all. When you think about it, diets are relatively straightforward: Strip away all the whys and wherefores, and what's left is a simple list of do's and don'ts. All that's left is for you to follow orders, right?

But because of all the emotions wrapped up in being a Fat Girl, it's way more complicated than that. For you, eating is anything but straightforward. It's more emotional than a trashy romance novel because it's so personal. You can see it, I know. You know how ashamed you feel when you vow not to overindulge and then break that vow—again. You aren't like other people. You can't casually eat what you want without an internal struggle. It takes a Herculean effort to push away your plate while there is still even the smallest morsel on it and say, “I'm full.” Even though you may feel full physically, you're never really satisfied.

You need to reprogram yourself. Forget the lists of “approved” foods. It's not about that. It's about knowing how to treat yourself well, how to make better choices, how to eat less and still be satisfied, and how to eat healthfully no matter where you are or how much time you have. This kind of guidance will reshape your relationship with food in a way you can live with for the rest of your life. And that's what it means to be a Former Fat Girl. It isn't a six-week, six-month, or six-year plan. It's a new way of living.

I've done the heavy lifting for you. I've created a Former Fat Girl formula for losing weight that emphasizes the strategies and tactics that will work for you. No matter how many times you've tried before, no matter how hard this “reprogramming” sounds, you can do it. You can change that emotionally toxic relationship you have with food. I'm living proof that it's possible.

The Obstacle: You Weren't Born with an Appetite Off Switch

Well, me neither. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be standard equipment for Fat Girls, but here are some work-arounds that will help satisfy you without sabotaging your Former Fat Girl quest.

Former Fat Girl Fixes

Become an illusionist.

I know it feels like a rip-off when all you get is a measly tablespoon or two of mashed potatoes and you're used to heaping helpings. On some level we all eat with our eyes. The pleasure and satisfaction we get from food starts kicking in when we see it on the plate. Some people are turned on by colors and textures and the prospect of sampling something they've never tasted before, but Fat Girls are hardwired to get a kick from quantity. If your plate isn't full enough, if the fried chicken breast isn't big enough (or as big as the one on the next person's plate), you immediately start thinking you're going to need more. And you start figuring out a way to get it even before the first bite touches your lips. How can you expect to know when you've eaten enough to be sated if you already have it in your head that you won't be?

There are ways, I've discovered, to fulfill your desire for quantity or at least trick yourself into thinking you're eating more than you are. The first is to create the illusion of substance by focusing on foods that have a lot of water, air, or fiber in them. Because they're bloated with those noncaloric elements, you can have larger portions of these foods without blowing your calorie quota. You won't find Godiva chocolate on the list or Gorgonzola cheese or penne pasta. The foods with the lowest calorie density are primarily vegetables (excluding starchy ones like potatoes) and puffy cereals (like Rice Krispies), not exactly what you'd request at your last meal. (See the sidebar above for more examples.) This little tactic helped me when I was weighing and measuring everything. I found out quickly, for instance, that low-fat granola was a really bad choice for breakfast. It was so heavy that I could have only a couple of spoonfuls; for the same number of calories I could have almost five times as much Bran Chex. That sure made a difference in my attitude toward the diet by short-circuiting that ripped-off feeling.

Here are a couple of other illusions to try: Use a salad plate instead of a dinner plate so that your meal doesn't look so sparse. Research shows that dinner plates have increased in size over the past several years, almost to the size of a meat platter. The bigger the plate, the smaller a normal-size portion looks—and the more likely you will feel cheated and want more. Also, try using salad forks and teaspoons instead of dinner forks and soup spoons (I'm expecting a hand slap from Ms. Manners for this). If you haven't noticed, eating utensils have been super-sized, too.

Take it slow.

Using smaller utensils doesn't just fool you into thinking you're taking in a more substantial bite, it also slows the whole meal down for the simple reason that you can't fit as much on your fork. Eating slowly helps you get more pleasure out of food (you can actually
taste
it, for one thing), so maybe you won't need as much of it. I come from a family of speed eaters, so don't think this is an easy thing for me. But I started doing it in self-defense when I began bringing my Weight Watchers–compliant lunch to work. I did all kinds of little things to make it last; setting my sandwich down, taking a sip of water, then a bite of carrot, then another sip of water. An observer might have thought I was a bit OCD, but I was just trying to resist the urge to stuff the entire sandwich in my mouth at one time.

Another slo-mo option: Eat with chopsticks. For years I ate all my dinners at home with an Asian flair, no matter what kind of cuisine: salads, stir-fries, pasta, you name it. Of course, chopsticks are particularly effective dieting tools if you don't know how to use them; chances are, only a fraction of what you're eating will actually make it to your mouth. But even if you have expert stick skills, you'll find they make any meal more leisurely, more enjoyable, and more like a “time-out” from life versus a plate-cleaning race.

Chew your calories.

Not as in “stop swallowing your food whole” (although if that's an issue for you, consider this a cease-and-desist order). I mean cut down or cut
out
sodas, juices, teas, or other liquids that contain calories. When you are trying to limit the number of calories you're eating, it makes sense to “spend” them only on the things that will leave you the most satisfied, and it's tough to feel the full impact, flavor, and texture of a drink you're sucking down through a straw. There are scientific studies that back up the fact that liquid calories don't make as much impact on satisfaction as calories that come from solid food, but I didn't need a study to tell me that. Long before researchers came up with that conclusion, I had taught myself to savor Diet Coke—actually prefer it—and make the “real thing” an INO. There was no way I'd waste some of my precious calories on a soda, not if it meant I couldn't have something I wanted even more, like bread or a bit of pasta. Also, I know people have all kinds of problems with Splenda and other artificial sweeteners, and I'm by no means telling you to drink the stuff if you don't want to. There are other noncaloric liquid libations you can have. (Water comes to mind.) If you want something with a little flavor, you can try flat or sparkling water infused with a touch of fruit like lime or orange, like the new Hint brand drinks (www.drinkhint.com) or citrus-spiked Perrier. No sugar, no chemicals, no calories.

Speaking of fruit, while fruit juices are head-over-heels healthier than soda, they do contain lots of calories that won't make much of a dent in your appetite. It is better to eat the orange, apple, or grapefruit itself and give your choppers something to do.

Be wasteful.

It's already obvious that I don't buy into many of the mores of our society, the rules of good manners, the laws governing proper use of handicap-accessible restrooms, and so forth. And here I go again. At the risk of earning a spot on the “questionable” list for admission to the afterlife, I'm suggesting that you trash the remaining Halloween candy in your pantry before it ends up on your hips; the leftover birthday cake you made for your sister; the rest of the double-decker sub on your plate that you certainly don't need to eat and aren't even hungry for. That's right: Trash it. Throw it away. And don't just put it in the kitchen waste bin because a little thing like botulism won't stop a Fat Girl from a little Dumpster diving. I'll admit right here that I have been known to actually dig a lump of cake or a piece of candy out of the trash can in my kitchen, and I know I'm not the only one. I have a friend who douses stuff with water to ruin it before she puts it in the trash so she won't be tempted. Do whatever it takes: Foul it, put the can out at the curb to use your watchful neighbors as a deterrent, or give it to the dog next door (unless it's chocolate, which is deadly for dogs).