COMFORT FOOD = LOVE

I didn't have a perfect childhood, but I always felt safe. I grew up in a two-flat with an aunt, uncle and grandparents upstairs, and a mother and father, brother and sister on the first floor with me.

My dear grandparents were overweight, and always home with a snack for us kids. Holidays were awesome. I would fall asleep to the sight and aromas of the big feast to be eaten the next day. I would watch as the women in the house cut, chopped, steamed, roasted, fried and cooked all our favorite foods.

When it came time to have the feast we would all sit together at a huge table and pig out on turkey, ham, polish sausage, dressing. mashed potatoes, gravies. creamed corn, green beans, potato salad, cole slaw, rolls w/butter, pirogi, sauerkraut, chocolate pudding and various pastries. By the time we were done eating we were practically in comas. To top it off, we had leftovers for a week!

Within my immediate family, we celebrated everything with food, usually ordered in or take out pizzas, burgers, or fried chicken. We celebrated Fridays, report cards, raises, birthdays, and vacations like this. It was all so safe and secure with all my family around, and no real responsibilities. Don't get me wrong, my mother did cook a lot and we sat and had nourishing family meals as a family at the table most of the time.

The point is all the celebrations and family moments were centered around food. The whole time I lived at home I weighed only 103 lbs ( high school) . When I graduated and moved out to my own apartment at 18 and found myself eating alone I gradually started gaining weight.

I married at 125lbs at 26 years old, and after my first child was born two years later, I was out of control and on the weight roller coaster.

Other people grow up overweight because every time they cried or were sad, food was given to them for comfort instead of hugs, kisses, and attention, or with the hugs, kisses, and attention. Bottom line is that food was used for comfort, good times, and love.

My grandmother made a super banana-split for me when I was a kid. She passed away when I was fourteen and I still miss her. When I'm sad now I don't have her to go to, but I sure can put together a banana split which reminds me of her and makes me remember old times and feelings.

Anyway I think by now you've got the idea on why I think we got fat on an emotional level. The question now is how do we deal with this and redirect our source of comfort and love. I believe that if we are honest with ourselves and acknowledge the truths we've won half the battle.