“Lunch? No, thanks.”
This is a slogan I saw on a poster advertising soletti. Cool, huh? I am not sure that about 200 kcal of pure carbs are a good substitute for real lunch. Well, it’s not like women today eat real lunch. Something like this maybe:
Scrambled eggs, red peppers, cheese, savory – real food. No. Women today have a coffee for breakfast, a bag of crackers for lunch and a salad for dinner (while men do burgers). No wonder I feel like a model of gluttony. The amounts of food I eat are enormous compared to this. Come on, I used to eat more even when I was restricting. I know that everyone is different but this isn’t normal for anyone. And do you know what’s really confusing about this? Women who survive on crackers look healthier than me. Most of them are at a healthy BMI and have their periods coming. I. don’t. get it.
A friend yesterday told me I should eat more. Her boyfriend was concerned about me being anorexic. Eat more. It’s easy to say. I just conquered the fear of eating my whole portion in the canteen (well, if it’s served, eating it all doesn’t mean I am stuffing myself, right?) . I don’t think I am ready to proceed to eating two portions. Especially when I see how other girls throw their meals away without thinking twice (Why on earth do you buy a meal if you don’t want to eat it? There are people who would kill for the meal you throw in the garbage). Actually, I do eat more. Breakfast, anyone?
I eat my favorite banana sandwiches before sunrise. Rye bread, nutella, peanut butter, coconut, oats, fresh banana. Amazing as always. This morning I even drank a cup of goat’s milk (thanks to the friend mentioned above) with the rest of the banana from the sandwich mashed in it. Does anyone I know eat such a breakfast? No. When I posted a picture of a banana sandwich on my facebook wall a few months ago, someone asked me a very “tactful” question: “Aren’t you afraid this is going to make you fat?”. It obviously didn’t make me fat. But after this question I was afraid of banana sandwiches for a while and moved them from breakfast to lunch or dinner which helped my weight drop even more.
Food equals life. Without proper nutrition life is just a shadow of what it could be. No energy, no strength, no will to live. It is not the life I want. The only good thing about it is the feeling of determination and control. I used to be proud of my self-control but there was nothing to be proud of in the look of my mom when she saw me this summer. I could read disappointment and confusion in her eyes. I bet she was wondering if she should send me to a doctor or directly shoot me without asking questions. She didn’t do any of these but I don’t ever want to see this look again. So food and I must become friends again.
I don’t mind being friends with this batch of Saturday night divas. This is my version of Super Charge Me! cookies with two new tiny alterations. This time I made them with rye flour and used peanut butter instead of tahini (multiple jars of nut butters in the pantry are not in my category so I only have one).
Cookies are better friends than hunger and, without a doubt, better than people who never care. Cookies make me smile and give me energy to jump as high as possible everytime I try to reach the stars. Self-control doesn’t involve guilt but it doesn’t give me anything else either.
There is something very wrong with our society. What do we get from tolerating misery? Why is every woman proud to have tried every single diet under the sun? When are we going to realize that we need to treat our bodies well if we want them to still function when we get old? Or should I say “IF we want to get old”?
I realize it. And yet, my body doesn’t function properly. I know it hates me for being a bad owner who attempts to destroy it while mimicing other people’s behavior. I must prove it somehow that it can trust me again. What about some more treats?
A variation of Katie’s banana hammock, a cookie, some banana chips. Or plums, peaches, cereal crackers, homemade meals… No, it still doesn’t trust me. But I hope it will if I continue to respect it. I won’t be fashionably hungry anymore and I won’t listen to people who judge every bite I eat.
I need food to live. And so does everybody else.
Soletti for lunch? No, thanks.