I have a friend who has huge battles with her son and food. He is turning into a 'fussy eater' she tells me. I was astounded when I heard this. I have seen them together at mealtimes and this is what happens: 'T, here you need to eat this now or your little tummy will be hungry later and you won't be able to play!... sit here now and have some...come on now, sit right here, Now! Come on...' T answers something like - 'but I don't like it!' or 'I am not hungry now!' After a while the mother takes him aside so I can't hear and whispers furiously in his ear. He returns to the table or picnic quick as a whip and stuffs the food in his mouth hardly tasting, hardly chewing until it's enough to satisfy his mother and then runs off. I have said in a jokey way we could save it for later for him? Or maybe he could have something else? Could he eat later inthe car home? But my smiley comments are not well recieved at all, because it seems I am trying to add more conflict for the mother, more trouble for her. It is horrifying to me. Partly because I remember doing this as a child. But then more and more often as I grew up I would refuse utterly at my father's request to eat what he told me I must, all of the guilt trips about starving children in Africa ('but how is my eating this going to help them?') or threats about no cookies or pocket money or no playing with friends later could induce me to eat the offending item (usually vegetables). But then what happened when I became older, an adult. What was my relationship with this 'food'? Well for a start I could not view it as fuel, something I needed in order to function to have when I wanted or needed (too long at it been only at specific times 'dinner' 'lunch') and too often had it been itmes not of my choosing. I could not view it as a substance I needed in order to survive. It was an ugly thing, or a wonderful thing, a life all on it's own that I had no hope of understanding. Too long had it been a place of battle. I witheld food from myself as a teen, surviving for days on one apple and two crackers per day. Years later I ate chocolate in large amounts to get a feel good feeling. I ate when it was meal time, not because my body dicated - hunger.
When I lived without my parents I finally got to choose my portion size! What a revelation! How often do parents dollop out the food for their children and then nag them to finish! The child didn't even get to choose how much to start out with! How fair is that! Did the child even get to say I am hungry, lets eat! Or were they called away from something wonderful when they were not ready to sit and eat - did they shovel that food in to get back quick to what they were previously doing? Do children who are taught to eat outside of their own bodies; meaning never getting to tune in to when they are hungry, never getting to choose the amount of food they eat - someone else always choosing for them. Later in life will they eat out of habbit rather than hunger? Of course! They are already being trained to do that from a very young age. Hunger signals are utterly ignored and indeed quelled and one eats at some arbitary signal from someone else. And we wonder at the increase in obesity in adults! The food disorders, the strange love/hate relationships going on with so called 'bad' unhealthful food. The guilt eating.
I have spent a few years now changing my attitude to food. It hasn't happened fully yet. But now I eat when I am hungry, regardless of what the clock tells me. I let my children fix themsleves food, we have open shelves stacked with snack bars, breadsticks, fruit, they know how to get yogurt from the fridge and how to make toast. I never ever ask them to finish what is on their plates. If they don't like something they can get something else. They are free to buy a Milky Way now if they want one. It's the least I can do. I hope this does not sound bitter, or angry because I am really am not any more. Mostly now I am interested about how my eating habbits came about, the influences. Seeing now that my children eat all of their food under my care and *knowing* that my attitude is everything is pushing me on to take more care, be freer. It seems that it is one thing to have these inner conflicts with food but it is a terrible thing to be passing them on to little people who rely on us to feed and nourish them. With love. Not hate. We are passing on so much more than our theories about which foods are and are not healthy. We are teaching them (without realising?) ways in which it is possible to live. For without food we cannot!
