A Type of Hunger No Food Can Satisfy

I'm a binger. Yes, I'm a compulsive overeater, a food processor, a vacuum cleaner. When I'm in binging mode, put a morsel of food in front of me and it will disappear within seconds. But wait, that's not quite true: I am actually selective when it comes to overeating, I select mac & cheese, ice cream, chocolate, pastries, yummy, yummy, I'm getting hungry again. Why do I binge eat? I've asked myself (and other people) that question a thousand times. Ever since I turned 12 years old and sneaked out of my room at night to fill my mouth with m & m's that weren't bought for me. I binge-eat because I'm bored, because I'm sad, because I'm happy, because I'm fat, thin or in between, because I have big boobs and chubby knees, because I exercised today, because I didn't exercise today, because I'll exercise tomorrow. I binge eat because I have a type of hunger that no food can satisfy.

I can come up with a thousand reasons of why I've eaten compulsively the last couple of days: I have my doctoral exams in three weeks and I'm FREAKING OUT; I'm getting married in a few months and... yes, you guessed it, I'm FREAKING OUT! We got a new puppy and although she's awesome, well, she's a puppy, which can be a bitch sometimes (no pun intended). The thing is, it doesn't really matter WHY I binged these last couple of days; it probably matters more to try to find out why my reaction is to overeat when I'm under a lot of stress.

Geneen Roth, whom I deeply admire (but whose opinions I don't always agree with), says that we must forgive ourselves when we binge. That we need to look at binging as a savior, as opposed to our mortal enemy. Sometimes life is too hard, sometimes we're happy and feel we shouldn't be. Sometimes we just can't deal with what the day is putting in our way. Fine, it's okay to binge and forget the world for a few minutes. You should try to not do it every day. The idea, Geneen says, is to trust your body's signals. That reminds me of the Two Fit Chicks' podcast about intuitive eating and makes me think that this looking at eating as a way of nourishing myself and not as a path to self destruction is very new . At least it's extremely new for me. Until very recently I was counting calories, overexercising, restricting as much as I could, feeling miserable and weak and a loser if I overate. And there came a point, especially after my step-sister died of an anorexia-induced liver condition, when I was overeating ALL the time... And then over exercising. It was a bulimia of sorts.

After reading Geneen's work, as well as Valerie Frankel's, Shauna Reid's and Crystal Renn's memoirs, I vowed to never count calories again, to never diet again and to never weigh myself at home. I have been able to keep my promises for the most part; except the calorie counting, which I fall into in moments of desperation and which after a few days lead me straight to a raving binge. So yes, no more calorie counting for this binger. The food obsession seems to be diminishing for me. Now I exercise because I love it (my next blog post will be called "Boxing for the Soul." You know, like "chicken soup for the..." ok, you get the drill) and because it makes me feel like a million dollars despite (or, I would say, thanks to) the sore muscles and overall exhaustion.

So yes, dear reader (do you actually exist? I'm starting to think that I'm just talking to myself), I binged today. I'm not going to talk about "getting back on track tomorrow," because I should not be going back to anything except to listen to my body, take it easy, exercise, breath deeply and thank whomever is up there (and who has gotten me out of some horrid situations) that I'm healthy and not as disturbed as my step-sister was, and for having the introspection to be writing this today. I'm not looking for a cure because I'm not sick. I just need to scape the world for a few minutes every now and then.

You are beautiful, whomever you are.

Above the Knee

Hello, my beautiful readers... Are you out there? If so, here's a little story for you:

Today I bought a dress that falls slightly above the knee. No big deal: pretty dress, nice fit, nice colors, but oh goodness! I have to show my legs in order the wear it! I can't remember when was the last time that I actually showed my knees in public; five years? Eight years? I hate my knees with a passion! As a matter of fact, I don't think there are any knees to speak of, just two shapeless and chubby "squares" of skin above my calves and shins. You look at me from the side, all you see is a flat surface from the thigh to the knee... NO shape whatsoever. But wait a minute, perhaps there were a couple of times in which I did dare to wear something that showed a bit of leg in recent years; however, I've always felt that women were staring disapprovingly and men would check my face out, smile, but then look down, see my legs, and well... Just look away. Don't get me wrong, I do wear skirts and dresses, but never anything that show a single inch of skin above my shins.

What to do with chubby knees? Actually, what to do with chubby legs? There have been a least numerous people who have commented, in playful tones, that my legs are chubby (one of them was an former boyfriend of mine... I can't tell you how many times he had to hear me complain about that particular occasion in which he DARED comment on my legs). I just don't think they're pretty legs, despite what other boyfriends (and my current fiancee) say. Experts argue that you can't actually change the shape of a specific body part by just by losing weight. In other words, it doesn't matter how many crunches you're willing to endure, your stomach will still be bulgy even if your ab muscles are super strong... Yes, you might lose weight by exercising (and eating properly), but you will never be able to shed inches exactly where you would like them off. I know I'm not the only one with this problem... Go online, google "fat knees," see how many entries you get.

There's something else I need to say about my legs: they might not be pretty, but they do beautiful things. First of all, they take me places... Hello! How terrible would it be to not be able to use my legs? I am most thankful that I can. Second of all, they allow me to dance! Yes! I dance. I do this cool Mexican folk style that not only entails wearing long skirts (phew! what a relief!), but that also requires A LOT of leg strength: there's much stomping and turning and making noise. I love it and I love that my legs allow me to do it. Plus, my two chubby friends jump and run and kick and stretch at the gym. Third, my thighs and knees and calves and feet allow me to give my future husband lots of love. I can embrace him entirely, with my whole body; and that's the best feeling there is.

In sum, yes, I hate how my legs look, but in this process of beginning to love my body just the way it looks, I have to start showing them off. You don't like them? Well, you're entitled to look away... I will not. Not anymore. Late-summer short dresses, here I come!