The Whys and Hows of My Veganism
A few days ago, my friend Bitt left the following comment on my crushing post:
I have had a question since seeing you in VegNews. Do you feel that you identify more with the “healthy living” community or the vegan or raw community? I have to admit I assumed the former but then was sort of surprised to see you in VegNews because they come to veganism from more of the ethical sort of standpoint. I’d love to know your thoughts on it.
The evolution of my veganism is something I’ve touched on before, most notably in my Thanksliving post, wherein I spoke at length about how my veganism was morphing into a lifestyle, rather than a mere way of eating. I also touched on veganism and its impact on my habits as a consumer here. But it’s been a while since I talked at length about my motives for choosing a vegan lifestyle. So here’s the story:
I became a vegan mostly for health reasons. I was a longtime non-eater of red meat; I swore off the sirloin after a traumatic Bambi-watching experience in childhood. I ate fish and chicken frequently all through high school and college, but by the end of college my consumption was tapering off, and I was discovering tofu, soy cheese (which was, looking back, pretty icky–you can ask Chloe about how much she enjoyed my soy cheese while we were roommates after college graduation!), and grain/bean based meals.
At the same time as all of this, I struggled with a near crippling case of IBS, which had me incapacitated not infrequently during my college years. Finally, I saw a great GI in Manhattan who suggested I give up dairy to see how it affected my digestive health. The change was immediate and dramatic. At that point, I wasn’t eating much fish or poultry, I didn’t eat eggs (they’ve always given me migraines), and dairy was suddenly off the list, too. Translation: I was eating vegan by default. And since the prospect of embracing a vegan diet seemed not daunting, but rather like a logical extension of the tastes and habits I was already learning to love, I took the plunge. I’ve never looked back.
Since I started eating vegan, I’ve begun to live vegan, too. As I read more books about veganism, and as I surrounded myself more with men and women who were passionate about veganism not for its health benefits, but because of its ethical implications, I couldn’t help but discover that, for most vegans the world over, veganism is not only a way of eating. It’s a lifestyle choice and a world view that extends from food down to clothing, language, and ideological identification. I may not have begun my vegan journey with these things in mind, but they have been an absolutely crucial part of my veganism. Why? Simply put, because I find the ethical and environmental arguments highly compelling, especially in the world in which we live. I believe that the best and most efficient way for me to remedy the abuses of factory farming and the environmental destruction it causes is to cease my consumption of animal products altogether. And I’ve come to question the assumption that our use of animals for our own benefit is right.
This ideological shift has been gradual, and it’s still very much underway. Two years ago, I ate vegan, but still purchased new leather and used non-vegan cosmetics. Today, I buy only vegan personal care items, and I also only purchase vintage or thrift shop leather (yes, I am well aware that wearing any leather sets an example, and it’s not a vegan example; I’m still in the process of changing, and this is my intermediary step). This doesn’t mean that I don’t have many, many changes yet ahead of me. Just last week, I used the expression “killing two birds with one stone” on my blog, which Bitt quickly pointed out is a non-vegan idiom! And a few weeks ago, when I mentioned staycation with my Mom, I noted that she had requested we visit the Central Park zoo.
Um, newsflash Gena: vegans don’t do zoos! Or at least, most vegans don’t support zoos, rodeos, and circuses. It was reader Sara who pointed this out to me in an email. She asked, “you’ve written before about your vegan shoes, vegan skin-care products etc., so I would just love to hear your thoughts about other non-food aspects of veganism and where you draw your lines?”
The truth, Sara, is that I didn’t even think about the zoo remark when I wrote it. My mom used to love taking me, and since our staycation was self-consciously touched by nostalgia, it must have seemed like an obvious suggestion to her. Of course, had I taken a moment to sit down and think about it, I’d have realized immediately that zoos are incongruous with a vegan lifestyle. But my veganism is young, and there are many connections that I’m making. I don’t stress about them: I have a lifetime in which to figure out where I draw my lines. As far as zoos go, I can say honestly that they–along with horse drawn carriage rides and circuses–have always depressed me and made me sorry for the animals involved, so I’ve no problem whatsoever avoiding them. If I want to see and play with animals, I can visit a farm sanctuary. But I needed an “aha” moment to connect my experience and emotions with my ideological position, if that makes sense. I imagine that this process will be long and ever-evolving.
Does this change the fact that I connect my good health to veganism? No. But I don’t think that my lifelong commitment to veganism would be as strong if the philosophical component hadn’t crept in along the way. I do believe that veganism can be the world’s healthiest diet for many people. But I also believe that it is one of many ways to live healthily. I, for example, might easily have managed my IBS and felt better by eating high raw and mostly vegan, but with the occasional inclusion of fish or yogurt. I know many pescatarians or people who eat a mostly vegan diet who feel great. So for me, the impetus to be a vegan for the long haul, rather than as an experiment to manage a health complaint, has to come from some place that isn’t exclusively health-motivated. It has to come from a conviction that goes beyond my body and how I feel. I think that all motives for choosing vegansim are great–i.e,. I certainly don’t think that non-ethical vegans are “lesser” vegans. But I do wonder if perhaps their attachment to the lifestyle would be strengthened by an appreciation of all that veganism implies, rather than its dietary dictates alone.
There’s another piece of the puzzle that I haven’t mentioned yet, but it’s a tremendous part of why I feel strongly about veganism. If health and ethics are my first two sources of devotion to veganism, this is a crucial third: my psychology. As many of you know, I struggled with various shades of disordered eating for many years, starting at a young age. Even after I learned to eat more consistently, I battled constant temptations to restrict food, and indeed my weight dropped dangerously low more than a few times after what I’d call the “worst” period of my psychological struggle. Veganism offered me an escape from these cycles. There are many reasons why that’s true, but I’d say that, for someone like me, appreciation of food had to be accompanied by a sense that the food I was eating had deep nutritional and ethical purpose. I had to feel that it was good for me, yes, but also that it was good for the world. This was my answer to the guilt that had dominated my eating for so long.
To this day, veganism isn’t supported by most health care professionals as a means of overcoming disordered eating, and I understand why: it’s very easy for veganism to hide sublimated food fears and self-imposed dietary restrictions. I also think that many women who have struggled with eating disorders find that they can never again make certain foods “off limits” to themselves, and in this sense veganism isn’t right for them. But for me, it was the gateway into having the sort of joyous and appreciative relationship with food that I wish I’d had all along. It was my way of understanding that, when we eat, we can nourish ourselves and the world in which we live all at once.
So you see, Bitt, my veganism comes from many different places. Health was the catalyst, if we want to call it that, and I still feel that veganism (as well as the very high portion of raw foods I eat) grants me energy and great health. But I wouldn’t say that health is my main motive at this point. It isn’t what makes veganism attractive to me as something I’m committed to for life. My feelings about its ethical and environmental implications, as well as the great changes it has wrought on my psyche, are what keep me hooked.
The other day, I was asked in an interview if vegans eat coffee. I laughed. “Well sure,” I said. “You have to understand that veganism isn’t about being a health freak. It is, first and foremost, a position of compassion.” Putting aside the fact that I don’t think coffee is a huge health no-no (Matt!), my point was this: veganism goes far beyond what is or isn’t on your plate. I don’t know if this response would have come to me so readily two years or even a year ago. But I said it almost without thinking. If there’s any clear sign of how much my veganism has evolved, this was it.
What about you all? For my vegan readers, what keeps you committed to a vegan diet and lifestyle? Do you identify more with one than the other? What are your reasons for exploring veganism, and sticking to it? And to my non-vegan readers, what are the motives you tend to attribute to vegans and their choices?
xo
Community Food
Warning: long post ahead. There is a good point, I promise.
A few weeks ago, my friends over at The Pump let me know about an exciting opportunity to visit and work at the Target Bronx Community Garden. This incredible space, which has been created with the support of the New York Restoration Project, gives meaning to the expression “urban oasis”:
It’s hard to believe, but this beautiful garden is tucked away in an otherwise busy urban neighborhood—just blocks away from the bustle of Yankees Stadium. You exit here:
Stroll up a few very hilly blocks (Gabi, check out all the PR pride!):
And at the top of these hills you’ll be greeted by the sight of this guy:
He’s the gatekeeper to a perfectly planted and maintained vegetable garden, which gazes calmly over a busy cityscape:
The contrast is unreal. The eight year old in me was transported immediately back to Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden. I felt like Mary Lennox, stumbling upon a world of unkempt brambles and rosebeds for the first time. Except that I’m 28, American, not an orphan, and not living in an English country manor.
Work with me here, people. Look at these flowers, and tell me you don’t understand the comparison.
How about these veggies? Green tomatoes galore.
Try cutting these, dipping them in whole wheat bread crumbs, and baking or pan frying them. YUM.
Also, baby watermelons (so cute!):
Regular tomatoes:
Bell peppers:
And eggplant galore!
My mind was full of dinner ideas as I strolled through the lanes of this fertile veggie haven. But recipe development wasn’t what I was there to do. My task for the day was to sit down and talk healthy eating with some of the folks who have worked on the garden.
And I couldn’t have asked for a more welcoming audience:
Meet the hard working men and women behind the Target Bronx Community Garden. That fellow on the right there is Charlie, my program coordinator for the day’s event, who was so kind and welcoming to me. Next to him is a pastor from the local church, who kicked off our discussion by saying that she’s trying to incorporate more healthy options into her weekly soup kitchen. Many of her customers, she said, suffer from hypertension and/or diabetes: how to feed them without using too much salt or sugar?
I tried to share the most basic and practical tips I know: always buy soups, beans, and canned foods that are labeled as low-sodium. If you can, buy dried beans and legumes: you’ll save money and can cook them without adding too much salt. If you purchase canned tomatoes, tomato paste, or tomato sauce, be sure to also check the sodium count. Never serve processed dessert foods—that includes cookies, cakes, cupcakes, and the like. Try instead to make fruit bowls. If packaged or canned fruit is all you can offer, fine: it’s still better than most commercial baked goods (and more and more brands are canning fruit without added fructose).
I mentioned that using frozen vegetables is often a nutritionally superior alternative to canned, and not much costlier. Frozen vegetables are quick, easy, fresh, and they don’t have any of the sodium or BPA of canned veggies. They’re available year round, and they’ve been shown in some studies to retain more nutrients (or relatively as many) as fresh vegetables that are slightly past their prime!
And of course, using fresh, local produce is always the most ideal option. This is difficult for residents of low income neighborhoods for so many reasons: cost (fresh vegetables are usually more expensive than packaged foods), availability (a dearth of seasonal produce), habit, and lack of motivation. The Target Bronx Community garden—and other gardens like it—helps to diminish the first two obstacles in a major way.
As for motivation and habit, I often find that people who aren’t used to eating vegetables on a regular basis simply lack a basic mental repertoire of dishes and means of preparation. They want to eat more veggies, but they’re not sure how, or in what. This is where simple creativity comes in! I reminded the community members that making one fresh green salad daily takes no more than three minutes of rinsing lettuce, and that it’s always easy to throw some frozen peas, corn, broccoli or cooked beans into a dish of rice. Tomatoes are delicious plain and sprinkled with salt, and eggplants and zucchini—both growing in abundance in the garden—are easy to grill (many of the community members said they had grill access). I reminded the community members that many of the veggies they eat in abundance already are very healthy, but the preparations they use isn’t. Yams, plantains, and lettuce are all great: yam pie, fried plantains, and salads dressed with blue cheese dressing aren’t so great! The trick to eating more healthily often lies in cleaning up one’s customary preparation methods.
Of course, a few of the people I sat down with had seen my blog, so they were understandably wary of me and my work. Did they have to stop eating meat to be healthier, they asked? Of course not, was my reply. Here on my blog, I speak to an audience of men and women who have at least some interest in eating less animal foods. But I believe firmly that the most dramatic health improvements come from eating less processed foods and more vegetables. Eating less animal foods is hugely important for good health, but it can be a later step in the overall process of greening one’s diet. Depending on one’s lifestyle, circumstance, culture and custom, it may never be a step at all. But that doesn’t mean that huge health improvements can’t happen. The important thing is for all of us to eat more produce, local if we can.
And that’s what our conversation was all about. Add first; subtract later.
To help inspire the community members to eat more summer veggies, I passed out a few recipes. One was for Susan’s black bean and corn salad – a summertime classic that’s meat free and high protein, yet also simple and accessible. Another was for sweet potato soup, and it allowed for the use of canned pumpkin if that’s what’s available in supermarkets. And the last was a printout of Mama Pea’s chocolate chip zucchini muffins.
Mama Pea, I figured that you, a veteran of sneaking veggies into your kids’ food, would be an excellent resource for the community members who are having a hard time getting those 2.5-3.5 daily cups in. I printed the muffin recipe with a link to your blog – hope some of them stop by to say hey
Thank you for sharing your veggie sleight of hand with your family, with me, and now, with the people of the Target Community Garden!
After my talk, I had a chance to meet a special member of the community garden. CR readers, meet Duane:
Duane’s Grandaddy worked on the garden, and he brought Duane by to see the vegetables:
I ended up having a long conversation with Duane about eggplants: what they are, what to do with them, how they taste–what’s up with me and eggplant conversations with cute boys lately?
Duane, I hope you try some eggplant soon. I suggest you start easy, and go with a (vegan) parmesan.
At the end of our talk, the members of the group were, miraculously, not fed up with me and my veggie gospel yet. And so we stood for some photos:
Me and Charlie—Charlie, thanks for being awesome!:
Here in the blog world, we get caught up in the minutiae of food and eating. We dissect specialty ingredients, and swap recommendations on where to find them. We trade recipes endlessly, and discuss the slightest modifications as though it’s rocket science. We explore the vast sea of nutrition knowledge, sharing information we’ve gleaned about macronutrients, minerals, and caloric ranges. We deliberate over whether to purchase $7 chia seeds or $14 golden mulberries at Whole Foods. We choose—we choose—to eliminate certain foods from our diets, because they’re not healthy, or because we have ethical reservations.
It’s great that we make these choices. But it’s important that we as a community also be thankful that we have a choice in the first place. With our dollar, we get to uphold our health standards, our tastes, and our ethics. Do I think that people in any socioeconomic range can make the sorts of choices that I see people making in this foodie community? Definitely. As the food zeitgeist evolves, I think that more and more people will learn that eating a produce-heavy diet is accessible, affordable, and fulfilling. But right now, culture, custom and access are still huge barriers. And economic limitations often result in a lack of choice.
For many years of my life, I experienced hunger not because I needed to, but because I was personally compelled to. I picked at my food. I broke it into pieces, played with it, moved it around on my plate, and then walked away. I nibbled at it, and then put it back in the fridge. I stuffed it into napkins under the table, or into my purse, to be discarded later. I tossed it, uneaten, into the trash. Sometimes I fed it to my dog. This was not a choice I made—disordered eating is an illness—but neither did I go hungry because I couldn’t afford to eat, which is the reality that so many people in low income communities face every day. I can’t get any of the food that I wasted back, but I can be forever grateful for the fact that I have always had the capacity to eat plentifully and well, and with pleasure.
Lucky, lucky me.
Thank you, members of the Target Bronx Community Garden, for letting me come talk leafy greens with you, and for making fresh, nourishing food an option for the people around you. You’re doing a wonderful thing, and I hope you guys know it.
For information on donating, volunteering, or becoming a member of the New York Restoration Project, please click here.
xo
Epic.
No, that’s not simply a reference to my co-presenter this afternoon and her favorite bon mot. It’s also how this day has felt! I am so, so, so sleepy right now. But it’s a good kind of tired.
Last we spoke, I was telling you about a slight breakfast fail, as well as the Summit’s keynote presentation. Directly after, I had the pleasure of watching Evan and Lin talk about ethical eating. This was an interesting discussion because it was approached from two angles. Evan, the Healthy Living Summit’s man of the hour, offered a perspective on what I’d call “compassionate omnivorism” – that is, making more compassionate and eco-friendly choices within an omnivorous diet. He discussed the importance of buying local, seasonal food, and of knowing one’s sources/farmers. Lin talked about eating affordably and happily in a vegan lifestyle. They both made some great points, and Caitlin followed up with some terrific questions (including “how do you feel about Skinny Bitch,” to which I offered a vociferous and critical reply).
Moments later, I watched my pal Sabrina as she gave a killer presentation on stress-free, elegant entertaining.
I was so, so, so impressed with her delivery. Entertaining is an art that, quite frankly, scares the pants off me – especially given the limitations of my tiny living space – but Sabrina made it seem so incredibly feasible and fun. Her tips included picking out simple menus, making detailed lists before shopping, laying out servingware with a note about the dish it’s intended for beforehand, and using food as table centerpieces (she showed a photo of a lovely artichoke+eggplant centerpiece). Along with all of this, she reminded us how to do a proper place setting:
…and gave out fun little prizes. She’s a great, engaging speaker.
After this, my “roomstar” (hey Mel!) and I went for a very quick stroll, and stumbled upon this adorable, palm sized friend:
Not long after we got back, it was lunchtime. If breakfast was less than ideal, lunch made up for it in spades. There was a wide array of vegan-friendly dishes; in fact, it seemed as though everyone in the room was far less interested in the lunch meats than they were in the plant-based options! I was thrilled to see hordes of bloggers around the marinated tofu and grilled veggies.
Along with a fresh raw veggie salad, tofu, and a giant grilled veggie platter, there was a chickpea salad:
(Alas, spiked with onions)
And an incredible quinoa salad with edamame and a gingery, orangey vinaigrette:
I took a ton of raw greens, a scoop of quinoa, and topped it off with a mountain of roasted veggies. The roomstar and I were chuckling at our intense salad beasts:
Think I enjoyed it?
Seconds had to happen:
The salad dominatrixes:
After lunch came a panel that I was particularly excited about: Anne, Julie, Heather, Sana and Andrea spoke about the “pros and cons of pressing publish.” The focus of their panel was not unlike mine and Caitlin’s in that it addressed both the benefits and the dangers of blogging. They discussed such issues as the pressure to adhere to a 3x daily posting schedule, the anxieties that come when one feels “excluded” from “popular” blog cliques, and general pitfalls of being a blogger.
The material was challenging, but the upshot decidedly positive. When they asked us to name a few of our favorite positive consequences of blogging, the obvious ones came to my mind: friendships, culinary inspiration. But I also said aloud that blogging helps me demystify and explain to people a lifestyle (semi-raw veganism) that can see strange and exotic at first. I love that my blog is a testament to the realities of the way I live and eat: it allows me to show new friends and acquaintances (even, sometimes, family members) how my lifestyle works, and it saves me the breath and energy of explaining the nuts and bolts.
A little while later, the Roomstar and I hit the streets of the Windy City for a little sun, air, and local flava:
This is me being a goof:
And Gina getting tempted by really cute, cheap workout attire:
After our jaunt, it was go time for me and Caitlin.
As I’ve mentioned before, our topic was the problem of self-comparison and peer pressure within the blogging community. Caitlin spoke about “superwoman” fitness routines, and the difficulty that can come when one feels ashamed to take a rest day, or simply to make the choice NOT to run a race. I spoke about food fads – detox diets, fitness fuel diets like Body for Life, low carb, allergen free diets (note that I was addressing the choice to go allergen-free when a legit allergy is NOT involved), and yes, raw foods. Dearly though I cherish my lifestyle, I’m well aware that, for many who dabble in raw foodism, it is but one in a long chain of specialty diets that have been tried for weight loss or out of a sense of obligation to be “hardcore.” This is one of the reasons I feel so strongly about a) showing people that raw foods don’t have to be all or nothing, and that in fact the lifestyle may prove more sustainable and meaningful if it’s experienced moderately, and b) ways in which raw foods can be balanced overall to ensure caloric density and nutrient adequacy.
Of course, we also talked about the upside of food blog reading! How many of us would never have tried chia seeds, or green smoothies, or banana soft serve, or even oats (!) if we’d never read a food blog? Blogs give us so much inspiration, and ultimately this is how we should contain their influence. They should be inspiration, not pressure; motivation, not a source of imitation. Reading someone else’s blog really shouldn’t make you stare at food choices that work for you (ideologically and health-wise) and think, “hmmm. Maybe I shouldn’t eat this after all?” If they change the way you think about food, they should do it gradually. Most of all, we can never, ever compare our plates of food and our food choices directly to what other people eat. Human bodies are simply too variable: we all have different metabolic rates, caloric needs, digestive sensitivities, macronutrient needs, and so on. Other peoples’ blogs can give us ideas, but they shouldn’t supply us with ready ideologies about food or lifestyle; that has to come from personal need and experience.
I should mention that the lovely Katie opened for us, sharing her blog success story, which was a poignant chronicle of how food blogs helped her ditch calorie restriction and fad diets and enjoy real, whole foods. She was amazing.
The talk will be available to watch in a couple of days, after the summit madness has subsided; I’ll let you know when I have download or link details!
After that, we bloggers bid each other some teary farewells. I dashed back to my hotel for a workout (which ended up being sort of epic – I love well equipped hotel gyms!) and some tech maintenance on my netbook. Then, it was a Whole Foods dinner with three of my favorite people:
And Melissa, who was next to me, so I didn’t get a chance to snap a photo of her! Observe food bloggers geeking out:
Oh yeah.
My dinner was a giant bed of kale and greens, red quinoa, assorted veg, and some tofu which sounded good at the time, but was inedibly salty:
All dressed up with olive oil, lemon, and agave. My staple dressing! Tofu aside, it hit the spot.
The end of the night had me reflecting on the tremendous social gains that blogging has afforded me. I don’t just mean these beautiful women:
I also mean the incredible women I met for the first time this weekend, the women I’ve been lucky enough to meet in the last few weeks, the bloggers who were with us in spirit, and, of course, the NYC bloggies who are so near and so dear to my heart. I adore you guys, and if blogging has given me nothing else, I’m so happy it’s given me you!
And now, as the rest of the blogosphere frolicks in Chicago, I’m back at my hotel, posting and heading to bed early like an old fart lady. Though I may wax poetic about the joys of socializing, intensely social days like today also tend to make me crave the “me” time that’s so vital to my happiness. And so, my day ends with an important tradition: B&B.
That’s short for books & boxers. I’m packing it in, friends: goodnight!
xo
A Mother Knows Best
Awesome responses to the energy bars! I’m excited to see how they hold up to your own recipe testing.
It’s been a while since I subjected you all to my musings, and today I’ve got some leftover thoughts from staycation week. I typically waste no opportunity to vocalize gratitude for my mother and everything she’s given me: a good upbringing, a love of art and culture, a model of female independence, an appreciation of books – the list goes on. Most of all, I thank her for instilling in me a sense of my own worth. But there’s one particular part of my thankfulness that I rarely put into words, and this is my appreciation of my mother’s relationship with food and body.
It’s hardly a secret that a huge percentage of women who have struggled with disordered eating can trace the genesis of their problems to a mother figure. It is the theme of countless emails I get from clients, and countless conversations I’ve had with eating disorder veterans. She’s always there, hovering in the background of these narratives: the mother who sipped diet coke all day or nibbled on low-carb bread; who tried every diet plan and bought every weight loss bestseller in print; who woke up at 5 a.m. each morning to do calisthenics or jump on the stairmaster; who cautioned her daughter to eat less, to stay away from sweets, to avoid seconds.
My mother did none of these things. Not a one. For as long as I can remember, my mother has loved food without qualification or neuroses. She loves to eat it, to prepare it, to talk about it, and even to look at it. She’s famous for making enthusiastic exclamations about tempting food commercials on TV, or for interrupting a conversation to say, “you know what I would love right now? A slice of chocolate cake.”
My mother is beautiful, and although she conspicuously lacks conceit of any kind, she’s also comfortable—as comfortable as I think any woman can be—with her physical self. Once, when I told her how much I admire her seemingly peaceful relationship with her body, she said, “well Gena, no woman is ever totally happy. There are always little things I would change. But yes, it is what it is!” To someone like me, who has hated, resented, and fought furiously to accept her physical self for as long as I can remember, this statement seemed astoundingly simple. My mother has her little insecurities, but they do not obsess her, and I don’t believe she would ever do anything self-destructive in an attempt to correct them.
Of course, my mother is a woman like any other, and I remember a few brief “diets” when I was growing up. There was the Scarsdale diet one summer, an intense but short lived regimen that stood out to me mostly because my mother was miserable without cream and sugar in her coffee (my mom likes her morning java “light and bright”). I also remember the Scarsdale diet because of its ill-fated creator and our indelicate jokes about him; Dr. Tarnower was murdered by a spurned lover, and my mother and I always used to say, “guess the diet didn’t work for her!”
But these little “diets” were, in comparison to what the average American woman puts herself through in a year, let alone a lifetime, truly negligible. My mother rarely persisted with them for very long, or gave them much thought. In the end, love of cream in her coffee would always triumph over my mother’s patience for a regime, and when it did, she was more pleased than rueful. The guilt that so many women experience when they deviate from a “diet” was, as far as I know, entirely foreign to her. My mother is a sensualist, a lover of taste and color and smell (it should come as no surprise to you that she’s an artist), and food is a part of that. I hope that I’ve inherited at least a bit of that love of food, even if it’s taken me a rather long time to grow into it.
That I was never able to directly emulate my mother’s relationship with her body proves how unpredictable disordered eating is. There is no single family dynamic or genetic predisposition or media influence that’s determinative. But the fact that I didn’t grow up with a sense of ease within my body hardly means that I’ll be that way forever: I’m far more at ease than I was even five years ago, or ten years before that, and who knows what the next decade will bring. I’d like to think I’ll eventually be a lot like my mom: that I’ll recognize physical insecurity as a part of life, but I’ll manage not to let it dominate me in any significant way; that I’ll be able to look upon my body and its imperfections with humor, rather than a sense of doom; and that I’ll always eat with relish.
My mother and I are similar in many ways, and in many ways we’re different, but I’ve never had trouble knowing when I ought to follow her lead. When it comes to food and body, I’m pretty sure she knows what’s up. Thanks, Mom, for for never drinking black coffee for too long. I love you for it.
It would be great, you know, if you’d consider coconut milk creamer
xo






–Lyn D., Maryland
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