All Foods Fit: Ditching Restrictive Diets
My relationship with food has been all but simple. I used to have so many rules around what I could and couldn’t eat, avoiding supposedly “bad” foods like the plague and only allowing myself to eat “good” foods—or what I categorized as such. Those restrictive behaviours and dichotomizing labels run so deep and exist so prominently in society at large that I don’t know that I’ll ever fully escape them, but I have come a long way from where I started. Healing my relationship with food and finding food freedom is an ongoing journey, but what I do know for sure is that a restrictive diet can control more than just the food you eat—if you’re anything like me, it can take over your whole life.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder (or not)
We’ve been taught to feel guilty for eating things like sugar, simple carbs, fried foods, etc., so we might heavily restrict or omit these foods because they’re so-called “bad” and “unhealthy.” The problem with restriction is that we innately want what we can’t have. Restricting certain foods intensifies our reward sensitivity, so when we finally get a taste of the “forbidden fruit,” it’s that much better because it’s supposed to be off-limits (Avena, 2013). If you tell yourself you can’t have cookies, your brain lights up like a Christmas tree when you eventually take a bite of an Oreo, making you crave more and more to feel that rush. This is why restrictive diets often fail—we’re not biologically wired to fare well with restriction, so telling ourselves we can’t have the foods we enjoy only gives them more appeal. As a result, it’s not uncommon to fall into a binge and restrict cycle, something I became all too familiar with.
You restrict until temptation takes over, and once you start to indulge, you can’t stop. Then, you feel guilty for overindulging, so you go back to restricting, and the pattern repeats itself. None of this is due to a lack of “willpower”—it’s human nature. I would end up bingeing on all things sweet when I told myself I couldn’t have sugar. I’d feel awful mentally and physically after each binge, but I was unable to escape the cycle because I so badly wanted what I wouldn’t allow myself to have. Since giving myself full permission to enjoy dessert as just another part of my nutrition, I no longer feel that yearning for an entire box of cookies or a whole pint of ice cream—I can simply eat my dessert and stop when I’m satisfied, knowing I can have more when and if I want. You might feel a loss of control and, consequently, overeat certain foods simply because you tell yourself you can’t have them. Removing those restrictions might allow you to enjoy those foods in more reasonable, moderate amounts that fit within an overall balanced diet—and you can avoid the horrific post-binge comedown.
Beyond the potential for a binge, depriving ourselves of the foods we enjoy can also cultivate an obsession with food and may negatively affect our mental health (Polivy, 1996). During periods of heavy restriction, food consumed my thoughts. I meticulously planned out every bite of food that entered my mouth, and my days revolved around what and when I was eating. Social events, vacations, birthdays, holidays, and other special occasions caused me so much stress, and I would sometimes skip the event altogether if the food situation didn’t align with my eating habits. I became burnt out, miserable, and, quite honestly, insufferable to be around. I missed out on so many opportunities to form long-lasting memories with friends and family simply because I was more concerned with the food than the moment itself. The habits I’d created were unsustainable, unfulfilling, and unenjoyable. I thought restriction was getting me closer to my health and fitness goals, but it was only draining my mental and physical energy, setting me back from making progress.
Letting go of restriction
I’m not suggesting that any one way of eating is the right way. If you find that cutting out certain foods works for you and restriction doesn’t affect your overall quality of life, then keep on keeping on. I also recognize that in some cases, restriction is necessary—for instance, if prescribed by healthcare professionals or if you’re training for specific and intense athletic purposes. Personally, I’m just passionate about making fitness and nutrition a sustainable and enjoyable part of my life, and I’m only speaking from my own experience—restriction definitely does not work for me. I love to eat, so depriving myself of foods that I enjoy also deprives me of happiness. If you find yourself in the same boat, then restriction may not be for you either.
Letting go of restrictive tendencies and giving yourself unconditional permission to eat all foods, shame- and guilt-free, isn’t something that happens overnight. These restrictive behaviours might make you feel safe and in control, and your relationship with food, including how you categorize foods as “good” and “bad,” is formed as early as infancy (Regan, 2022). Unlearning something so deeply engrained takes time and patience, but the process starts by recognizing that there really is no such thing as “good” or “bad” food—these labels are social constructs (Kronberg, 2022). Your body doesn’t know that a cupcake is a cupcake or an apple is an apple; all it knows are the molecules within them and how to digest, absorb, and use them. Food is simply made up of chemical compounds, such as lipids, sugars, proteins, fibre, and so on, and each food has a different combination and amount of these compounds. Some foods have more lipids and less protein, less fibre and more protein, more fibre and less lipids… None are inherently better or worse than one another; they just serve different purposes in your body. Understanding this concept helps to strip the power held by stereotypically “bad” foods, and they can simply coexist with all of the other foods you consume on a day-to-day basis. You might also realize that you only crave some of those “bad” foods because you’ve labelled them as such—they’re only appealing because you’ve told yourself you can’t have them. Again, restriction fuels desire. The more freedom you give yourself with food, the more in tune you become with your true preferences, and the more balance you can find.
Restriction gives certain foods more power than they deserve, taking up too much space in your already busy mind. Nutrition should be a part of your life, not the whole thing. There’s so much more to life than the food you eat—instead of giving all of your valuable time and attention to the food on your plate, think about who you’re eating it with, the special occasion around which you’re enjoying it, and the memories you’re creating at the table. A balanced, nutritious diet is important, but the best and most sustainable approach to nutrition is the one you can adhere to—you need to enjoy the food you’re eating, and it needs to work for your lifestyle. Life’s also too damn short and stressful as it is, so do yourself a favour and just eat the things you love. Your body and mind will thank you.
References
Avena, N.M., Murray, S., & Gold, M.S. (2013). Comparing the effects of food restriction and overeating on brain reward systems. Experimental Gerontology, 48(10), 1062-1067. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.exger.2013.03.006
Kronberg, S. (2022). How to Have a Healthy Relationship with Food. National Eating Disorders Association. https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/blog/how-have-healthy-relationship-food
Polivy, J. (1996). Psychological Consequences of Food Restriction. Journal of the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics, 96(6), 589-592. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0002-8223(96)00161-7
Regan, A. (2022, January 28). How to help your child develop a healthy relationship with food. CHOC. https://health.choc.org/how-to-help-your-child-develop-a-healthy-relationship-with-food/