B-2.
There’s this vending machine at work that I pass by every day on my way to and from lunch. I am a sucker for snack cakes, and so slot B-2 is where my eyes are always drawn.
Oh, B-2. Some days you hold Twinkies, some days Honey Buns (which I suspect contain no actual honey), some days those creepy raspberry Zingers that have the coconut stuck all over them. Yeah, those I can resist. But every time I pass by, there’s something different in that slot — it may be the most exciting part of my day, checking out the new selection.
When I was at the peak of my disordered eating, it really didn’t matter what was in B-2; I would long for it regardless. I’d never make direct eye contact, but instead would twitch my eyes repeatedly to the side, and OH. The glistening cakes tucked inside their bright wrappers, their icing thickly spread and pressed against the plastic. Some women fantasize about Hugh Laurie; I fantasized about running through a field holding hands with Little Debbie.
After I gave up the dieting, I ate my way fairly swiftly through a box of Twinkies. Now an unopened box lives in my pantry, purchased who-knows-how-long-ago. As I’ve learned with most other “forbidden” foods, it’s the wanting that makes them taste so good. Twinkies are tasty for, like, the first bite. Then the filling is too sweet and coats your mouth in what can only be described as a film, and the cake isn’t quite as moist and spongy as you had hoped, and ultimately, the whole thing falls quite short.
Every now and then, I think about a Hostess Cupcake with its whirly twirl of lacy icing across the top, and it sounds lovely, and so I buy one and eat it. And then I’m done. I don’t want another, or another dozen, because it’s not forbidden anymore. I can really have another whenever I want, really and truly. I believe that now.
I still check out B-2 when I walk by because, c’mon, SNACK CAKES. But I don’t feel sad and distraught and freaked out by what I see there. Snack cakes aren’t a test anymore.
I sometimes wonder how much my thinking has really changed in terms of my disordered eating, and then I realize something like this, some huge shift in how I think about food, and I’m so proud of myself.
And I’m also excited to see what other shifts are coming.
Yeah, I’m definately one of those women who fantasize about Hugh Laurie…
So, I’m the only one who fantasizes about a three-way with Hugh Laurie and Little Debbie?
Hi. I’ve really found a lot of comfort in your blog. I’m trying to learn how to follow my hunger too, but i’m really struggling right now. can you recommend books or other sources that helped you? thanks. Amy
Yeah, that sounds wonderful, I wish it worked for me in reality!! I give myself permission all the time to eat whatever I want…. AND I NEVER STOP EATING THE WORLD…. so an empty kitchen is the safest route, sad but true!!
Snack cakes and such don’t thrill me. I am with you on the waxy coatings and the fact that way too much evil has been put in them to give them a shelf life of infinity. My kids are glomming on to the seasonal Little Debbie fall cakes, but they hold no interest for me.
However, a nice bakery made muffin or pastry once a week or so with the morning cup o’ bean juice– and I am there!
If only I could find the time for a decent middle ground and make my own muffins, cakes at home for the whole family!
I have a pretty hilarious image if you running through the fields with Little Debbie, like in Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law when they have flashbacks and Harvey is a real person dressed up in a suit and Birdman gear.
Me? I want to run through the fields with a giant Tastykake butterscotch krimpet (waves nostalgically at the East Coast) and then take it down and eat it. And would you believe I didn’t even know who Hugh Laurie is?
Last night really late I caved (I wasn’t even hungry) and I had one of those dense little brownies, ya know the ones that are perforated down the middle so you can “share” one with someone else (whateva). Those used to be the holy grail of snack foods for me, but I noticed it didn’t even taste good. And it just made me feel ill. I’m a little sad that I’m not as attracted to it as I used to be, but I guess that’s a step in the right direction.
Ah, Little Debbie. How I love her and her snacky-cake goodness. The nutty bars are my favorite. I think this love harkens back to when my mom packed one of these treats for me in my bag as an afterschool snack to be had at the babysitter. The thing is, now that I’ve given myself permission to eat them, they really aren’t great. So I’m likely in love with a memory rather than the actual product. I guess that’s the way it goes for me, though.
Hugh Laurie doesn’t do it for me but Dave Matthews does and yeah, I’d totally go for a three-way with Dave and Little Debbie. Snacky goodness and Dave. Mmmmm.
Oh, wait. I had something I actually wanted to say!
You have been a *huge* inspiration to me. Your shifts are helping my shifts. Your “bad” days help my “bad” days. So, you know, yay you!
amy, the book that has helped me more than anything is “When Women Stop Hating Their Bodies.” It’s the first book that clued me in to the fact that I didn’t actually *have* to diet, that there was nothing actually wrong with my body. It’s by Jane Hirschmann and Carol Munter. It’s definitely a good place to start!!
I’m with Kate- menage a trois with Hugh and Debbie. I’ve gotten in a rut with Ben and Jerry.
Great post. Love it. I find that the more I allow myself ‘forbidden’ foods, the less I really want them.
You are a total inspiration. We have some odd paralells.
Cheers,
Carrie
PS- I love that book, too.