Cooking Changed My Relationship with My Body
Read Time: 3 Minutes
Words by Lydia Dubose
I remember, about a year and a half ago, when we could still go out to eat with acquaintances in the pre-pandemic era, I sat down with a colleague for lunch. As we perused the menu conversation drifted in and out of phrases like “that looks good, but I should be good today” or “I think I’ll get the salad, I already ate too much yesterday”. These phrases were as commonplace as talking about the weather, especially among professional women in our twenties and thirties, but always leave me feeling uncomfortable.
So often we talk about eating as a means to an end, but I love to think about food as part of an experience and something to be enjoyed, not just something to be recorded and counted to make me smaller.
Growing up, I enjoyed learning how to cook and bake as a way to do something for others. As the oldest child in a household with four children, I learned how to make easy, quick, affordable batches of food that would sustain a crowd. These meals were tasty to a range of palettes and fairly low maintenance, but I found that they no longer served me very well when I moved out and began making food for myself. As a young adult, I needed food that was fast, cheap, and in smaller portions. I sought advice on how to cook for myself and unfortunately began to take in a lot of messaging about food that fed off of my insecurities. I began to view food as a way to control my body, as fuel, not to be enjoyed too much unless it was a holiday or special occasion. Instead of paying attention to what I liked or disliked, I was told that superfoods were the key to wellbeing, regardless of how I felt about the taste.
After a few years, I found myself looking for a more positive and sustainable approach to cooking and eating. I wanted to live a healthy lifestyle and help my body to be healthy without using disordered eating practices. Instead of thinking of cooking and eating as just another step on my to-do list, what if it could instead be interesting and exciting? I wanted cooking to be fun, a way to try new things and find joy in my everyday life. While we could not afford to take elaborate trips, I looked to cooking as a way to explore many different tastes and smells.
One of the best models of exploration and delight around food came from watching the series Salt Fat Acid Heat on Netflix. In it, Samin Nosrat helps transport viewers to Italy, Japan, Mexico, and the United States as she explores the four pillars behind good cooking. I loved watching the way that she marveled at simple pleasures like pesto, soy sauce, and fresh fruit. What if we all reveled in the flavors of our food instead of being concerned about how that food might affect our body’s shape or size?
Inspired by the practical tools I learned in Salt Fat Acid Heat, I began to embark on a journey to approach food with curiosity and a spirit of experimentation. Instead of rushing through the meal-making process, I set aside time at least a couple times a week to try a new recipe. Instead of wolfing down food, I savored the experience of tasting new flavors and savoring the meals I made.
Over time, cooking became a kind of meditative ritual. I felt connected to my body while chopping up vegetables, waving my hand over the stove to gauge temperatures, and tweaking meals to fit my taste. I slowly learned how to notice different flavors and appreciate the complexities of a new dish. I also learned how to pay attention to how my body responded to different foods - noticing the way that I felt nourished or sustained after a good meal.
Cooking became a form of self-care, a way to center and ground myself when the world felt chaotic. When I felt overwhelmed or emotionally shut down or as if I wasn’t good enough, taking a few minutes to make myself a meal helped me to move forward. Although making a sandwich might seem like a simple act, it is empowering to take some time to care for me physically.
Not every meal I make is a grounding moment. Many days, I pop a bag of vegetables in the microwave, heat up some frozen samosas in the oven, and use leftover rice for a quick meal. Whether making a complex meal or a peanut butter sandwich, I try to focus on the sensory pleasures of making and eating food. These simple acts are important and powerful ways to support my wellbeing and help me feel present in my body.
Now, when discussing food with someone else, I focus on the experience of it. I love to share food that excites me and describe the ways that cooking and eating helps me to be more connected to myself.
** Editor’s Note: This is part 2 of a 4-part series on caring for your body. Read part 1 here. | Read part 3 here. | Read part 4 here. **
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About the Author:
Lydia Dubose (she/her) has a passion for learning and finding new ways to create a more kind and just world. Based in Texas, she has spent years cultivating relationships, growing programs, and communicating for nonprofit organizations. She enjoys trying new things, listening to podcasts, long walks outside, reading several books at once, secondhand shopping, and tackling new recipes.
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