onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

04 Jan 2026

Patience is an ingredient

I was reading a multi-post social media thread about how to make the best banana bread, which is unusual for me. I don’t generally read posts about food. As a conscious  choice. 

But I was reading this one for whatever reason. And right there a few posts down were the words “patience is an ingredient.” And then I stopped reading. Because that was what I was there for. 

Not the process of how to make banana bread. The reminder that time does not move at my whim, that things worth doing are often done by process over long periods, that time takes time. 

These are all part of my personal “spiral staircase.” The lessons I am here on Earth to learn. That I keep coming around to but at a new level and with a new perspective, and a new understanding. But keep coming back to nonetheless.

I was a precocious child. Very clever. Quick on the uptake. And I expected to be a prodigy. I was not. 

And I likewise expected Life to come easily to me. Again, it did not. 

I had to learn delayed gratification, and slow and steady, and bare minimum for myself in what I can only assume is the most difficult way. Withdrawal.

But what I gained was a sense of time. 

When I first started putting boundaries around my eating 20 years ago, (January 2, 2006) I would look back at 1 month, 3 months, 6 months, and think really??? No cheating? Not even once? And it was so hard to believe that about myself. About my own integrity. Because I was so used to being untrustworthy. Like maybe for a day, or a week, I could do something. But months? And then years???

But the rules were clear. And I couldn’t trick myself if I broke them. So YES! I could confidently say yes. And getting those months and years took months and years. 

Every day that I keep my addiction and my compulsive eating under control, I know better that I am that trustworthy. That I have been. I no longer think it’s weird that I don’t cheat. And I don’t think it’s “unlike me.”

And every day that I keep my eating under control is a day to build on my learning, my making, my art, my craft, my relationships, my communities, the things that matter to me. 

So this year I am choosing Patience Is An Ingredient as my mantra. I am going to try to remember to honor where I am in all of my many processes, and also that old wisdom:

If you pray for patience, expect to be tested. 

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28 Dec 2025

Twenty years ago and a lifetime ago

Twenty years ago today I was pretty miserable. 

I don’t think about it much at all now. Not even as my anniversaries approach year by year. 

But someone said something to me recently that reminded me that 20 years ago right now, I was 28 years old, I was an exercise bulimic and a regular old stick a toothbrush down your throat bulimic, I had gained 30 pounds since Halloween two months earlier, and I was terrified because I could not see a way out. 

But also, it was good for me. A kind of shock to my system. I had hit a bottom. 

Once I started trying to make myself throw up, I could not pretend that I didn’t have a problem. We had reached After School Special levels of not okay.

As I approach my 20th anniversary this week, I get to really remember the excruciating pain of existing in the food. I could not stop eating. I could not stop punishing my body for it. With laxatives, with bulimia, with exercise to the point of and past injury, with harming myself any way I thought I had to so I could be in a different body. BUT STILL I COULD NOT STOP EATING!

So yes, it basically comes down to the fact that I am grateful for the ability to stop eating. Food thoughts don’t plague me. All of my eating is guilt free. I have a life beyond my wildest dreams. I have the ability to live a life between my meals. And love my meals 3 times a day. 

These boundaries are freedom. This freedom is liking, loving, and trusting myself. This is nearly two decades of increasing peace.

So here’s to my gratitude for the past almost 20 years and here’s to a lifetime more. 

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21 Dec 2025

The least interesting thing about the whole thing

I have been thinking about my body a lot lately. Because people are probably coming to take my photo for a magazine. It is to accompany an article about a book that talks about addictive eating. And I am an example of someone who successfully changed my eating lifestyle. 

Right around the time I had just turned 28, I was doing a self help seminar and the instructor asked me what I wanted to get out of it. And my answer was “for my body to stop being an issue.” 

By the end of that seminar I was no longer eating sugar and grains and I was weighing and measuring my food. My body didn’t stop being an issue at that very moment, but it was the first step in a long and continuing journey. And it worked. 

In getting my eating under control I started to think of my body as myself. I started to think of my body as a wonderful vessel that provided all of my abilities! I started to think of my body as sacred and undeserving of being judged. ESPECIALLY for its size and shape and “perceived beauty.” I started this blog to really start to dismantle all of the ways I lived small. And hating my body was one of my biggest obstacles.

The way I think about my body and my weight has slowly but entirely shifted in the past almost 20 years. But here is a situation where it is in someone else’s best interest to “show off” my body in a certain way. In a certain light.

And it’s making me feel insecure. What if I don’t look thin enough? What if I don’t impress everyone the way this magazine wants me to?

Which makes me a little mad at myself. And a little ashamed. Because I don’t want to feel insecure about my amazing body. And I don’t want to reduce getting my eating under control to “weight loss.” Because losing weight is the least important or interesting thing about getting control of my sugar addiction.

But I also know that I only started to get my eating under control because I wanted to stop hating my body. And what I hated at the time was being fat. And I don’t think I could have found myself all the way over here honoring all bodies and dismantling my anti-fatness if I hadn’t been desperate to stop being fat.

What I have been reminding myself is that I am not selling anything. And that I am not invested in having my picture in a magazine. But I am VERY invested in sharing the message that if you can’t stop eating and it’s making you miserable, there is a solution. 

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14 Dec 2025

An almost 20 year head start

I got my eating under control at 28. And that is a miracle. For me. But also, it’s not common. 

Most people (definitely not all) who come into food recovery are women. And most women come in about my age now. I’m 48. Essentially, when their hormones are changing. And when that need to please is greatly reduced.

I heard a woman say that society calls menopause “The Change” because that’s what it is for men. Their wives and mothers change. The women they relied on for everything are no longer as reliable, and some of the wives just LEAVE! (Can you imagine????) 

The older I get, and the less “reliable” my body gets, the MORE reliable my heart and soul and passion are. The more creative I am. The more proud I am of the time I spend learning and making and the product of my work. The more inspired and excited I am.

And I have all of this because in January of 2006 I decided that my sugar addiction had such a hold on me, that it would be better to give up all of my joy (I really thought that food was my only joy) than to live the rest of my life with the compulsion to eat and all of the shame that came with it.

A thing I hear a lot now is “I love your energy.” And they are right! I have great energy. I know I do because I WORK at it. And it’s a product of a lot of things that most people don’t actually like when it’s happening to them. 

You love my energy? I say NO to things that drain my energy. I limit my interactions with negativity and greed. I limit my interactions with drama. Even if I like you. Even if I love you. I say NO! I protect myself first, my family second, my friends third. 

And all of this is cumulative. I am just weeks shy of 20 years of taking care of my eating and letting that be the first step in taking care of the rest of my life. All of the rest of my life. So I have an almost 20 year head start of loving my body, of choosing my own peace and my own path, of living without resentment for the way I failed to measure up to someone else’s standards. An almost 20 year head start on so many women addicted to food, to sugar, to the idea of a perfect woman and the perfect body, or at least a “better body” that someone wants to sell us all. And I refuse to take that for granted. 

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07 Dec 2025

I already eat like it’s a celebration every day

I have been thinking a lot lately about how I eat well as a lifestyle. My husband and I spend money on quality food ingredients and cooking implements, and spend time cooking at home. We essentially eat like wealthy people. Though we don’t live like the rich and famous by any means. Unless you count an executive Costco membership…*bragging eyebrow waggle*

I had to entirely shift the way I thought about food when I first put boundaries around my eating. Eating was always a double edged experience before I got it under control. Either I was eating food I loved and craved and was ashamed of it because I was fat. Or I ate “healthy” options (not necessarily healthy in actuality, just low calorie) and hated the experience and felt like a martyr. 

When I got my eating under control the first thing the community told me was that “we eat the biggest and the best.” We love our food. We eat the foods we want. (Not sugar obviously…) If we want to eat the same foods every day, we are welcome to. As long as it is portion controlled and not a drug food. If we want to change it up every day, that is welcome too.

It meant there were rules that served me, and following them served me, and I knew when I was and was not following them. And when I was following them I was keeping a promise to myself.

And that, just the understanding that I could eat and not hate either the food or myself, was a revelation. And a freedom I didn’t want to give up. I say to this day that guilt free eating is the very best, number one thing about keeping my sugar and food boundaries. And if I lost every other benefit, just that would make it worth it.

As we come to the season of bowls of candy everywhere and homemade cookies on tables and big boxes of fruit and nut breads, I am reminded that I don’t need to do this anymore. I did it for 28 years. No holds barred. And I DID NOT GET TO ENJOY IT!

So it’s good for me to remember that I eat like it’s a celebration every day. And let the cookies lie. (I actually have zero interest in cookies. It turns out that when you don’t eat them for nearly two decades, your body doesn’t care anymore.)

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30 Nov 2025

Non-traditional day of gratitude

We did not end up going anywhere for Thanksgiving! I was all ready to go on Wednesday when my husband came home from work sick. 

He was going to drive me home in his company truck and then lay in bed except for diving me to and from my mom’s so I could have Thanksgiving with her. Because we haven’t seen her in a while. 

And honestly that is just dumb. I can drive myself. I have my own car. So I considered just driving myself to my mom’s and back on Thursday. But then I would be leaving my husband sick at home. (I don’t think he would care that it was Thanksgiving.) 

Plus, my mom and my stepdad have a trip planned for Antarctica in a couple of weeks. (That’s not a typo.) So my husband was also wary about one of us getting one of them sick.

Anyway I don’t care about traditional turkey dinner. (I was always in it for the lasagna at my Italian grandma’s house.) I don’t particularly like the meat. I don’t eat carbs so no stuffing or potatoes or candied anything. (No lasagna even if Gram were alive, sadly…) plus I don’t eat food in my food like in casseroles. I would be going to see my family. 

But then on Friday my husband was feeling a little better and we made a carb-free meatloaf (crushed pork rinds instead of breadcrumbs, and sugar-free ketchup) and I made sautéed green beans and he made himself mashed potatoes, and we made it together. 

And that really felt like Thanksgiving to me.

I’m sorry we didn’t get to see people this weekend. But we will see family for Christmas. (Not my mom and her husband. They will be in Antarctica. That is still not a typo.) Or in January for makeup holiday. 

And I got to be just as grateful in my own nontraditional way.

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23 Nov 2025

Wait, it’s the Holidays again?

I started my holiday season early this year. And didn’t even realize it.

I just got back to my husband and kitten after my second fun friend weekend in a row. (Yay me!) And next weekend is Thanksgiving, and we are actually going this year since we are less than a two hour drive from home. (We don’t usually do Thanksgiving because I don’t eat professionally anymore and neither of us care about turkey or the traditional foods.)

I’m not a consistently social person. I am the life of the party, certainly. But getting me to the party isn’t as easy as it used to be…But right now I want to be showing up for the people in my life. For my communities. Being a part of them. Being of service. Being available. Really, just being present. 

And through all of it I am probably going to bring my own food to most places. Or eat before or after. And not feel bad about it. Not bad about it for not eating the hosts’ food. Not bad about it that I don’t get to eat party food. Not bad about it that I am eating differently than everyone else in front of other people. Or not eating at all.

This will be my 19th holiday season of having my eating under control. And after all this time, it has never been easier. But even 19 years ago, when it was not easy, it was so much better than being obsessed and ashamed. 

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16 Nov 2025

The agony of a silly mistake with minimal consequences

I made a mistake this week. A really simple silly mistake with minimal consequences. And I got really upset.

Obviously.

I thought that a ladies night painting party I was attending was on Friday night. So I packed up the food I needed for one day and drove 2 hours to my other house on Friday and realized the party was Saturday. 

I texted my husband to let him know. And then I cried. Because I felt stupid. Because I was humiliated. Because I told my husband I would be back to take care of the cat on Saturday morning and now I would not be there until Sunday morning. (Yes, of course he is a fully capable man who was happy to take care of our cat.) Because I missed my cat. Oh and my husband.

And then I remembered that I trust that Life is giving me exactly the right things and that includes my own mistakes. And that I don’t even need to know how or why. I can just accept it and be exactly where I am without feeling like I should be anywhere else. 

Instead of being unhappy I caught up with the family at the house. And I ran some errands including getting enough food for the next day too. 

So when I went to the party I was not feeling stupid. Or like a bad cat mom. Or humiliated. I was fully present. I met the coolest new women. I made an abstract painting of my cat. I had a blast and I am back home with my husband and my cat.

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09 Nov 2025

Creative problem solving at its finest

Last week I wrote about how I know I am a food addict because I freaked out when I realized I only fed my entirely fine kitten 3 meals instead of 4 one day last week. How my brain is not rational around food. Well I got another reminder this week from a different quarter. 

In the morning I often pack my husband’s lunch box for work. And he likes a snack of an apple dipped in yogurt and crushed peanuts. It’s a quarter cup of peanuts. I measure it out. Not like I would for me. (I actually don’t eat most legumes, including peanuts. They trigger sugar cravings for a lot of sugar addicts.) It’s heaping instead of flat. If a few don’t fit and fall out of the cup I give them to him anyway. 

But I can tell how hungry I am by how big or small that bag of peanuts looks to me. 

A lot of times people are incredulous that after 19 years and 10 months I can’t just eyeball my food by now. Like how do I not know what 4 ounces looks like after almost two entire decades? How could I still need to weigh it? Every time?

But I know that I am still very much not normal around food because I cannot even eyeball someone else’s peanuts that have zero effect on my life. Some days in the same week that bag looks so abundant I think “wow! That is a lot of peanuts!” And alternatively “Ugh. What a pittance!” Sometimes on consecutive days! 

One thing I learned to do by accepting my sugar addiction was meet myself where I am at. I cannot eat sugar like a normal eater. And I love to eat and cannot get myself to stop. So I gave up sugar, and made sure that all of my food is always delicious. Creative problem solving at its finest.

And it still works 19 years and 10 months in.

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02 Nov 2025

My cat is not a food addict

This week I got a look at how not in touch with reality I am to food. From my cat.

So my kitten gets fed 4 times a day. A mix of dry and wet food, and she doesn’t finish the food most meals most days. 

Well the other day I realized I only fed her TWICE that day as I was putting down her last meal for the night for a grand total of 3 meals. 

I was terrified! I was so upset with myself. Should I leave out more food? Will it go bad? What if she wakes up hungry in the night?!?! What if she’s been waiting for this food, and is starving!

She had not been crying and begging for food. She did not fall upon it ravenously. She did not even seem to notice that she “missed” a meal. She ate it much as she does every other meal. With the same intensity.

But *I* was worried. Literally actually worried that I had left her hungry enough to make her unwell. Because she can’t talk. And all I have is routine. Because I don’t think about food normally. 

Obviously it didn’t take me too long to get rational and recognize that she is not only fully nourished but also healthy and well cared for in every way. That one meal one time for a cat that eats FOUR TIMES A DAY is fine. That if she didn’t complain she probably didn’t care. There are not a lot of martyr kittens. 

Having my eating under control is how I, personally, know what to eat. Because I don’t ever feel done. I don’t ever FEEL like I have had enough. I weight out food on a scale. I eat the same amount every day. That is how I know I have had enough. My body is not good at that on its own.

So when I feed my cat 4 measured out meals, that makes sense to me. Because I do the same for me, only mine is only 3 meals and they are way more food. And way more delicious…(you can’t give cats spices…)

And when I fail to give my cat one of those meals, I get as upset as I would if I forgot one of MY meals. 

The good news is, I was more upset about it than my cat who is apparently not a food addict. 

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