How Being Vulnerable About Food Helps Others
Words by Erica L. Bartlett
Most of the time, I don’t know if or how my actions impact others. I try to treat people nicely, but it’s hard to know what it means when you give someone a kind word, hold a door open, say thank you, or just listen.
But I have learned one thing that’s guaranteed to have a positive impact: being vulnerable. And I notice this especially in relation to food and eating habits.
If you’re surprised to hear that talking about food makes someone vulnerable, I envy you, because that probably means you’ve never felt ashamed or guilty about your food choices. Personally, though, I can’t imagine going through my life without ever having those feelings. And the more I talk about my experiences with others, the more I realize I’m not alone.
REVEALING SECRET FOOD HABITS
That wasn’t always the case. When I was younger, I was convinced I was alone. After all, I didn’t know anyone else who obsessed about food. Who ate the “good” foods in public but the “bad” foods in secret. And who hated themselves for doing that.
When my parents made me go to Weight Watchers at 13, I did meet other people who struggled with food, but none of them were my age. And I freely admit that even if they talked about eating in secret, I didn’t hear it. I was too angry about being forced to go.
I didn’t feel like I could talk to anyone about this, both because it would mean coming clean about cheating on my diets, and because I didn’t think anyone else could understand. I even felt too embarrassed to tell my best friend - the friend I spent so much time with that we finished each other’s sentences.
Instead I carried all of this, feeling alone with my difference, for over a decade.
Only in my 20’s, when I started changing my relationship to food, did I learn I wasn’t alone. Other people – mostly women, but sometimes men – had the same struggles. It amazed and saddened me how food could be such an important and necessary part of our lives and at the same time fill us with such anguish.
That’s when I knew I had to start talking about all this. Because I couldn’t stand the thought of more people suffering under this burden of secret shame. So I started working as a mindful eating health coach. And always, the first thing I do when I meet with someone is to tell them about my own experiences.
Even though things have changed for me, this can still be scary. To explain how ashamed and guilty I felt about the way I ate. How I thought something was wrong with me because I couldn’t stick to the diet rules. How panicked I felt when I thought of anyone witnessing me stuffing my face with candy, cookies, brownies... whatever I could get. How worrying about it took over my life.
But here’s the great thing about being vulnerable: finding out that someone has an experience similar to yours validates your experience. And it empowers you to share your own stories. I see this so often in my coaching. When I tell a woman about my struggles, she starts telling me about hers. This includes sharing eating habits that she’s kept secret for years, even from her spouse or best friend – just like I did. I often feel the urge to cry, hug her, or both.
OPENING THE DOOR TO HEALING
But this brings up the second great part about vulnerability: it opens the door to healing. By moving these parts of your life out of the shadows, you can acknowledge and own them. It takes away their power when you realize you don’t have to be ashamed anymore. These behaviors are just part of what is – and they don’t have to stay that way.
Changing things starts with ditching the guilt. Some women have told me how freeing it is simply not to beat themselves up about what they eat. And even if that’s all we accomplish together, I consider it a win. But some go further. They want to be more mindful overall... and that includes telling their loved ones what’s going on. This is another area where I find it’s critical to share my own journey. Because I know firsthand how scary it can be to open up that way, how we worry that our loved ones will reject us when they know these hidden truths. But that’s also why it’s important to know that it doesn’t have to be that way. In fact, this can result in something good.
For instance, I might explain how after 20 years, I told my best friend – the same one I could never talk to before – how I used to sneak sweets at her house. It was so hard to do. I still felt ashamed of my actions, and embarrassed that I had never been able to tell her before. But opening up about it let that old wound start to heal, especially after she gave me a hug and said it was okay.
Or I tell people how I talked to my dad about my teenage years, and the negative effect of all that focus on my weight. That gave me the chance to find out he’d had no idea how it impacted me. And to hear him say he was sorry, that meant so much to me. I only wish I’d been able to have that kind of conversation with my mom before her death.
When other people have an example of this, it gives them the courage to talk to their own loved ones and to heal and deepen their relationships. One woman told me how she felt lighter after talking to her husband about her struggles with food. He didn’t completely understand, but being open about it made a difference. She also finally felt able to eat what she wanted in front of him without worrying about judgment.
And once you start that process of healing, you realize how much time and energy you spent on keeping those secrets, beating yourself up, or obsessing about diet rules. This is where the other part of the magic happens. Because once you understand that you can spend that time and energy on something else, everything changes. Your horizons open up. You can choose instead to focus that energy on something more meaningful. Maybe your family, or volunteer work, or creating that book/music/painting/other art that you’ve been dreaming about for years. You can start a new hobby. Or simply live more joyfully, at peace with yourself. For example, one of the older men I worked with came to a place of self-acceptance. It’s too bad it didn’t happen until his late 60’s, but at least he was finally happy with himself.
THE RIPPLE EFFECT
What makes it even better is when that change ripples out. Simply by walking in the world as someone comfortable in your own skin, you can inspire more people to do the same. You can pave the way for others to make full use of their talents instead of letting them waste away, overshadowed by those darker thoughts.
I love seeing this ripple effect of how I can help one person, and then she or he can help others, and on and on. I’ll never know how far it spreads, but I don’t need to. It’s enough to know those ripples are going out.
I’m not saying this is easy. Being vulnerable takes courage and practice. And it will always carry some risk. But when I see how much it can help and inspire others, that risk is well worth it.
** Editor’s Note: This essay first appeared in Issue 18 of Holl & Lane Magazine. **
