Here's what I mean.
Today, I'm having coffee with my dad, my husband, and an old friend from grade school.
And yet, I'm sitting at my dining room table alone.
See that cup?
That cup was a gift during my 12th birthday. I was not a popular kid. In fact, it's safe to say I was an outsider. The weird kid. Constantly teased and bullied from 3rd grade until I graduated from that small school at about 8th grade. I had begged my parents for a bowling alley party and invited my whole class. Five or six kids out of 24 came, and 3 of them brought gifts. This was one of those gifts. I don't know many 12 year olds who would have been excited about getting a mug, but I am a big Disney fan, and this person thought of me enough to attempt to get me something I'd appreciate. We aren't in touch any more, but I remember that moment every time I open the cupboard and see this mug.
Inside of it, is my dad's favorite coffee order. Whenever I could use some comfort, I order a cup of coffee just like he liked it. My dad passed away in 2014 of Pancreatic Cancer.
The muffin is my husband's favorite from a local allergy friendly baker we like. It's not my favorite flavor, but it's his, and today I wanted a connection with him. He's away on an extended deployment, and we haven't had communication for months.
Food Is More Than Fuel
Memories aren't just flashes of imagines in our brains. They are filled with smells and tastes that engage all of our senses.
What you do Between New Years and Christmas matters more than what you do between Christmas and New Years.
I've tried a lot of different diets. I've tried logging and tracking every bite. I've tried supplements, shake based diets, and flexible dieting. What I've discovered is they aren't sustainable. The pride with quick weight loss fades quickly when those pounds (and then some) come back on. And then I felt like I'd 'failed' the diet.
Here's the truth -
Any diet that says I can't have coffee with my dad, or a muffin with my husband is a diet I don't want to be on.
Any diet that uses 'cheating' as a 'reward' isn't one I want to be on.
Any diet that says I can't enjoy a christmas cookie with my daughter made from my mother's recipe isn't one I want to be on.
Those diets aren't sustainable. Not only do they rob me of enjoyable memories from my past, but what will I want my daughter to remember?
Finding comfort in the memories brought on by different sensual experiences isn't something to be ashamed of. EVER.
Just don't live there every day.
I don't 'cheat' on my health. I don't restrict where I can get comfort from. My memories deserve more respect than that. I deserve more respect than that.
Our senses are amazing things. If food was only fuel, why doesn't it all taste like chicken?
