My First Diet
When I was around 8 years old, I put myself on my first official diet. This was inspired when a close family member said, “you are getting chubby around the gills, it’s time that you start watching what you eat.” Other comments like, “You better do something, or you won’t have a date for the prom; no one will want to take you.”
And here I was, little 8-year-old me who left to figure out what a diet even was. I can still remember gathering a sheet of paper and mapping out a whole month. It was the month of June. 30 days. I wrote what I would eat for my breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I can remember breakfast was 2 eggs, lunch was 1 hot dog, and dinner was whatever I could fit on the smallest plate that we had. I also designed my own workout regimen. For as many hours per day as I could muster, I would ride my bike up and down the hills of my backyard.
This is around the time that I would not get ice cream when the other kids would, and I would cook my own dinners so I could avoid the extra carbs- my mom is 100% Italian. Then there was a series of events that occurred where I learned to use food for the emotional comfort I was seeking. At the age of 9, I took on massive people pleasing tendencies and started to do poorly in school. I can remember getting a “D” in math because I was so dysregulated and couldn’t focus. When I look back now, I see such strength in that little girl who didn’t give up on herself. It would have been easy to.
And here I was, little 8-year-old me who left to figure out what a diet even was. I can still remember gathering a sheet of paper and mapping out a whole month. It was the month of June. 30 days. I wrote what I would eat for my breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I can remember breakfast was 2 eggs, lunch was 1 hot dog, and dinner was whatever I could fit on the smallest plate that we had. I also designed my own workout regimen. For as many hours per day as I could muster, I would ride my bike up and down the hills of my backyard.
This is around the time that I would not get ice cream when the other kids would, and I would cook my own dinners so I could avoid the extra carbs- my mom is 100% Italian. Then there was a series of events that occurred where I learned to use food for the emotional comfort I was seeking. At the age of 9, I took on massive people pleasing tendencies and started to do poorly in school. I can remember getting a “D” in math because I was so dysregulated and couldn’t focus. When I look back now, I see such strength in that little girl who didn’t give up on herself. It would have been easy to.