All names of patients have been changed to protect confidentiality, in addition to specific and identifiable details of their profession and age.
- Jessica, a successful entrepreneur in her early 30s, came into my office crying about her weight fluctuations in the last year since she started her company. "I told my husband I was going to lose weight and go on a smoothie diet... but one night while he was still at work I had a craving for pizza. I decided to order it and throw the box away before he got home. He came home before I had time to hide the "evidence," and I felt so humiliated I couldn't look at him and just started crying. I've been counting calories since I was very young and have rigid rules for myself, including Saturday "cheat days." Food isn't even enjoyable anymore, because I've started to associate pleasure with guilt. Anytime I eat something that is tasty, I have a voice in the back of my mind reminding me that tomorrow's work out is going to be hellacious."
- Justin is a 25-year-old product manager at a tech company downtown, and while he came in to get help with dating, the conversation of food and weight surface regularly. "I've always been a skinny kid and relatively short for a guy. No matter how much I eat, I don't ever seem to gain weight. It's a problem that's hard to complain about because people can't seem to understand how high metabolism can be a bad thing, but being skinny caused me a lot of pain growing up. I eat pretty normally when I'm out with friends, but what they don't know is before I go out to restaurants I eat a full meal at home, and then again after I get back from the bars. My friends know me as a food snob, but when I'm home I'm just gorging on chicken nuggets and chips... oh and Walker's shortbread cookies."
- Maddy, a 31-year-old food photographer, is known to her friends and family as a lover of all things curated and stylized. Something she hid from everyone for years was her intense craving for McDonald's fish fillet sandwiches. She completes a yearly ritual where she drives to McDonald's by herself, orders a fish filet sandwich and fries, pulls into one of the vacant parking spots in the McDonald's lot, and devours her meal without taking off her seat belt. None of this she ever posted on social media because Maddy felt no amount of photo editing can take away the shame; shame that is perpetuated by keeping it private but also carried the satisfaction of a naughty little secret,
Why are these stories important?
Because at the heart of them rests the mysterious and idiosyncratic relationship we have with food when there are no witnesses. These are the moments when we are the only observers of these acts. We often talk about "dancing like no one's watching" to represent the liberating spirit in which, free of judgement, we give ourselves permission to truly release. The way we eat when no one is watching can be viewed in a similar light. Sometimes what is different when no audience is present is the pace at which we shovel food into our mouths. Sometimes it's the quality of food we reach for. Sometimes, it's the activities we engage in while we're eating, such as binge watching trashy shows on Netflix, spending embarrassing amounts of time on Facebook, or eating straight from the pot, standing over the kitchen sink. But very often, the most significant differences are unobservable, quite invisible even to ourselves, and potentially all consuming: a confusing combination of liberation and shame.
Without the fear of others' perception of us, we liberate ourselves from the burden of performance and feel strangely empowered while also at the mercy of our socially unaccepted choices. Part of our shame stems from a deeply ingrained belief that our behavior is abnormal, odd, and if exposed, would be viewed as disgusting.
In a culture where social media boasts immaculate snapshots of healthy lifestyles (of which I am guilty), cookbooks and blogs talk about how easy it is to produce well-balanced meals with locally sourced ingredients, it's not surprising that many of us feel there's something amiss if all we happen to want is packaged ramen with hotdogs or donuts with canned corn chowder. Especially living in a city such as San Francisco where there is an abundance of good food, fresh produce, and an endless resource of food blogs and video tutorials, it almost feels like there's no excuse to eat "poorly." And so we continue to eat our shame in bed when no one is watching, telling ourselves that no one could accept our weird eating behaviors and in fact, might be downright repulsed.
Since I have the privilege of listening to people's shame everyday, I can say with confidence that no one is alone in their weirdness or abnormalities. And by that definition, there is no such thing as abnormal since we all, more often than not, exist in strange and undemocratic ways, be it about food or anything else.
Shame can only survive in isolation and when we take a bold and courageous step towards inviting those we trust into our private worlds to witness our discomposure, we can begin transforming shame into deep connection, healing, and love.
- Kim and Dave came in after 4 years of unresolved conflict and tension. Months into therapy, they decided their romantic union did not promote the self-growth they had hoped and started the divorce process. I continued to see them through the separation to help them gain a deeper understanding of one another, themselves, and the beauty of their time together. Since neither of them could afford the rent on their own, they continued to be cohabitants. "It's weird but since we began the divorce process it's like we started to see each other differently. The pressure was lifted and of course, expectations were also gone. We started laughing and having fun again, almost the way we used to when we first dated. We even started experimenting with our cooking!" Encouraged by their creative energy, I suggested they eat dinner in the pitch dark one night. They spent the entirety of the dinner allowing themselves to be physically and emotionally messy, while also engaging in what they described as a profoundly insightful conversation about what went awry in their marriage. "In the dark and over dinner we were able to talk in ways we had never been able to. Because we were technically eating dinner, it didn't feel as serious and because we were in the dark, we didn't have to be afraid of the other's facial expressions. We talked all night about the fears we could never express before: fears of falling out of love, of getting fat, of having kids, of being a burden, of not contributing, of never being enough." Two months later they decided to pause the divorce and courageously approach their relationship in a radically different way.
What was once an incredibly lonely journey when both Kim and Dave stewed alone in their shame, they now allowed one another to bear witness inside a treasure box of hidden insecurities and unvoiced wounds. Jessica, the entrepreneur, confessed to her husband she's been hiding pizza boxes for the last two years and he quietly and gently held her as she tears of relief poured out while she exposed her shame. Justin, the PM, found the courage to share his narrative with a close friend who now brings In-N-Out animal style burgers and fries every time he goes over, a symbolic demonstration of solidarity with Justin's shameful ritual.
Oh and remember Maddy, the food photographer I spoke about earlier? That was actually yours truly. I have since admitted openly to many of my friends my love for McDonald's fish fillet and I along with several other friends devised a strategy for catching the crumbs while eating in the car, pivoting our bodies when we open the door with our legs squeezed tightly, and thrusting our hips out in one fluid motion so as to most efficiently get rid of even the smallest of shame particles.
So ask yourself, how do you eat when no one is watching?
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If you're struggling with an eating disorder, call the National Eating Disorder Association hotline at 1-800-931-2237.