Breaking Down a Complex Relationship with Food
My conflict with food began before I drew my first breath. According to family lore, even in the womb, I voraciously consumed everything I could, putting my twin sibling at risk and resulting in our premature delivery. These aren’t just stories but early cues to my complicated relationship with sustenance.
Unconscious Healing Through Writing
In 2020, I undertook a unique project: writing a novel about mother and daughter cannibals who lure lost souls to their rural forest home, then bake them into pies and stews. Initially, crafting these characters was a physical journey, as I wrote by hand. However, as I delved deeper into these narratives, I couldn’t help but see parallels with my own struggles with food.
Exposure to these women, who feasted without guilt or inhibition, compelled me to confront my tumultuous relationship with food. The catharsis of writing about characters who were unapologetic about their wants and needs taught me to challenge the insecurities I had accumulated over the years. Slowly, but surely, I began to heal.
An Undiagnosed Past
As long as I can remember, I’ve felt an unrelenting hunger. Unbeknownst to the adults around me, I had undiagnosed autism and ADHD, making my behavior around food inherently complicated. During a sleepover, I remember the guilt overwhelming me as I stole chocolates from a friend’s Advent calendar, hid them under her bed, and consumed them, sweets aching in my mouth.
The guilt was immense, but so was the desire for more. This desire, left unchecked, compounded into a complex relationship with food that followed me into adulthood.
From Fussy to Reluctant
Food became an even more complex topic as I grew up. My hunger manifested in various ways—fussiness over textures, strange rituals, and rigid food orders. These quirks often led to feelings of isolation and punishment. I found myself avoiding meals due to strict preferences, sometimes going to bed empty.
Yet, my identity was intricately linked to these food-related conflicts, reflecting an underlying need for control and a pervasive shame surrounding consumption.
The Adolescent Struggle
During adolescence, this struggle intensified. The desire to be thin, to be smaller, was not just about physical appearance but also about fitting in and gaining acceptance. These feelings, however, were driven by internal conflicts rather than a full understanding of societal pressures.
The cafeteria, a place meant for socialization, became a battleground for me. Desperately seeking validation, I found solace in the privacy of the school bathroom, where I would purge, finding temporary relief from my guilt and hunger.
Binge-Eating and Starvation
In my late teens and early twenties, I was trapped in an unhealthy cycle of binge-eating and starvation. I justified these behaviors by convincing myself they were healthy, deriving a sense of control. It wasn’t until I became more engaged with political and societal issues that I recognized the damage I was doing to my body.
Autism might have played a role in my obsession with numbers, calories, weight, and body measurements, making it easier to compartmentalize these feelings without fully addressing the root causes.
Changing Bodies, Changing Lives
Entering my early twenties brought a significant life shift. My youthful, petite frame gave way to curves, a belly, and flabbier underarms. This transition was painful, as my previously cherished body seemed to be betraying me. Women in this phase often face declining social value and heightened scrutiny, contributing to a sense of invisibility.
Financial instability further compounded these issues. On a shoestring budget, I resorted to cheap, processed foods, leading to weight gain and poor skin quality. The aspirational ads for diet products and beauty solutions felt like a cruel jest, suggesting only the affluent could attain perfection.
Cannibal Narratives as a Catharsis
Exploring cannibal stories became a therapeutic process. These narratives allowed me to unpack the profound sense of emptiness and the desire for resignation. They served as a rejection of societal beauty standards and a celebration of individuality and autonomy.
Cannibalism in literature, seen in works like Yellowjackets, A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G. Summers, and Earthlings by Sayaka Murata, symbolically offered freedom from the constraints of conventional beauty and food control. By stepping into the minds of these characters, I found a way to heal and embrace my flaws.
Embracing Myself
No longer do I steal chocolates from unsuspecting friends. Now, I savor the comfort of indulgent foods, like mac and cheese, without guilt. This newfound acceptance marks a significant shift in my relationship with food and myself.
In my post-cannibal era, I am unashamedly greedy and particular about my meals. This journey has taught me to love myself fully, flaws and all.
Conclusion
My complex relationship with food is a story of resilience and self-discovery. Through writing about characters who reject societal norms and embrace their desires, I found healing. Food, once a source of guilt and shame, is now a reflection of my identity and a testament to my strength.
If you are dealing with similar issues, know that you are not alone. Organizations like Beat and Mind offer support and resources to help you navigate your journey toward self-acceptance.
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