“Huh. It’s gonna be kinda weird at my wedding when I don’t eat any of my wedding cake, isn’t it? Oh well, just the way it’s gonna be – I don’t eat cake.”
I’ve honestly had that thought before in my head, and accepted it as fact that I wouldn’t be eating cake on my wedding day, or ever, really. Not that I’m planning my wedding, or even close to being engaged, or that a wedding is a possibility anytime soon. I just kind of assumed that whenever in my future it did happen, cake would not be a part of that day for me, because as a rule, I DON’T eat cake.
Or cookies. Or chips. Or an infinite list of all the delicious foods that ED tells me are bad and definitely not acceptable for me to eat.
I guess I should change that “don’t” to a “didn’t”. Or I should soon, as I learn to be okay with eating these foods.
Now when I think through the wedding day cake situation, the thought of not enjoying a piece of my own wedding cake is really, really depressing. Because a) what kind of bride doesn’t take part in all the traditional, lovely, fun parts of her own wedding day? and b) WHY would I miss out on such a delicious treat?!
As I move forward in recovery, I’m pushing myself to try more of the foods that ED ruled out. Since before I can remember, I always just claimed to be “not a dessert person”, and I’ve never indulged in the yummy treats that go along with holidays, birthdays, or even just after-dinner desserts. I honestly had myself convinced that I didn’t like chocolate. PROOF of the insanity that starvation-mode causes.
Turns out, I really, REALLY like chocolate. And donuts. And brownies. Holy moly, brownies. Right now though, each time I treat myself, it’s an event, with a lot of anxiety surrounding it. While I’m eating, it’s delicious and everything is excellent, but before and after, I’m consumed with worry. Letting myself enjoy yummy food just seems like a huge taboo after all these years of denying myself. Surely, I’ll wake up the next day with the evidence of that brownie grown onto my thighs. Or even if it’s not immediate, what if I stop worrying about food, and that brownie becomes a habit, and then I pile on the pounds?? That lil brownie brings on a spiral of worries. I know those thoughts are irrational, but they continue to pop up.
Mostly I’m trying to ignore that crazy worrisome voice. I KNOW I’m not going to instantly gain weight from an occasional treat, and I KNOW I’m not going to suddenly start eating terribly. I’m allowed to eat cake at a birthday party. I’m allowed to have ice cream after dinner.
Bit by bit, it’ll get easier, I know. For now, each time I decide to be brave and have a yummy treat, it’s a win over ED. And the payoff of deliciousness is just about always worth the anxiety. And the more I practice challenging it, the less the anxiety will come into play. Without the anxiety, desserts will just be a happy thing in my life.
I know there are so many reasons to be excited about recovery, and a lot of them are a lot more legitimate, but I think the thing I am most excited for is dessert freedom. Time to face the facts – I AM a dessert person, after all.