There are a few key ‘gates of healing’ that are necessary to walk through in order to grow out of food compulsions like overeating, sugar obsessing, or binge eating.

I wrote about two of these gates – healing your relationship to vulnerability and healing your relationship to power and sovereignty – here.

Today I’d like to share more about healing your relationship to your vulnerability – for it’s something that’s coming up for a lot of folks right now.

Feeling like a ‘broken self’

Whenever we struggle with something – like food – it can alter our sense of self. Struggling with food can create an impression in our hearts that we’re inherently ‘broken’ – a sense of being damaged and ‘unfixable.’

This impression filters how we see ourselves. It’s as if we become fused with the struggle itself – and that struggle becomes our very identity. Our relationship with food becomes the lens through which we view our entire being.

I remember when I first became conscious of feeling ‘damaged.’ I was a sophomore in college, lonely, struggling to fit it, and coping with the wake of a major episode of depression. I was also caught in bulimia, torn between two opposing needs: my desire for belonging – which meant controlling my food so I could obtain the thinner body I thought I needed to be loved – and my desire for care and nurturing – which I found in binge eating.

So much vulnerability. So tender.

Over time, this impression of being a ‘damaged self’ can lead to other feelings – frustration, fear, overwhelm, and anger. We may blame ourselves for not doing better. Our thoughts may tell us things like – “You should be able to control this. You should be able to get this together. This is all your fault.”

Or, we may feel caught in a ‘freeze’ state where we feel powerless, helpless, and hopeless.

Ouch, so painful.

Moving into the heart

When we move through the gate of vulnerability, we move from the mind – the place of judgment and shoulds – and into the heart. We turn towards our pain to offer it tenderness, compassion and understanding.

There are many ways to do this. Any contemplative, expressive, mindfulness or ‘body based’ practice can help – like yoga, meditation, spiritual practices, movement, art, and creativity – because they move us out of the head and into our bodies, where our experience lies.

We can physically move our energy and attention into the area around the heart. When you feel into your heart, how does your perception of your journey with food change? Do you feel or see yourself differently?

Where everything belongs

When we move into the heart, there’s a warm space for our experience, and our emotions. I think of it as the archetype of the Divine Feminine – a cradle for our being, where we are deeply invited to exist.

This shift fosters several key shifts:

• There’s more ease and less anxiety. We move out of a space of overcontrolling – trying to control our food, our pain and the situation – and into a place of surrendered care. Our energy shifts from frustration, anger and shoulds to an embrace of, “Ouch. This really hurts.”
• There’s room for all aspects of ourselves, an invitation for our wholeness. Rather than feeling like our struggles with food are an outcast – something we need to control, contain, or fix – they become something we move to care for, with tenderness, compassion and wisdom. Our vulnerability and struggles are included in the great web of our life and can even be a part of our health, not outside it.
• There’s a restfulness, a quieting of the internal arguing of all the ways our mind can tell us that we should be different – all the ways we argue with our experience and try to make it better.

The counterintuitive turn towards pain

It sounds counterintuitive, but the place where we feel most vulnerable – the place where we feel like we’ve most screwed up with food – is the very ground of our healing.

It may feel too vulnerable to touch this grief directly at first, especially if there’s been trauma. (Having the help of a therapist, healer, or support group can be crucial when there’s so much vulnerability.)

But with support, presence, and patience these ‘soft spots’ are gently, tenderly faced and felt.

In many ways, moving into the heart is a grieving process. For when we grieve, we’re turning towards our heartache without adding on a layer of self blame, guilt, anger, or shame.

As we grieve, a natural compassion arises towards ourselves. Food transforms into something we’re relating to, rather than stuck in or identified with.

How compassion leads to changes in how you eat

This holy grieving is what helps us unhook from the belief of being a ‘broken self’ and touch the ground of our wholeness. Out of this wholeness arises new ways of seeing ourselves, a greater compassion and tenderness towards our vulnerability, growth, and new life.

This lays the foundation for outward behavioral change – differences in what and how you eat, in how you use food to self soothe or to care for stress, in how you respond to cravings and impulses, and in how you relate to your emotional, physical and spiritual needs. You feel more resilient and capable, and less stuck in the ‘freeze’ state of helplessness or despair.

And in this place, new ideas arise. We can ask for help. We can embrace ourselves and others. And we can face our humaniy with honesty, compassion, and deep, abiding love.

The ‘marvel of what you carry’

In my own life, I’ve traveled through many rounds of grieving, of facing the pain that lay underneath my eating disorders and depression. The more I grieve, the more tender I feel towards myself, and towards others.

Grieving softens my defenses:  my overresponsibility, my trying to be good, my trying to do everything ‘right,’ my trying to be better than others, my anger and righteousness – all the ways I’ve tried to protect the soft shell of my heart, all the ways I’ve tried to hold love close.

Grieving asks me to let go of these strategies and simply feel the vulnerability that lies underneath. It asks me to see – truly see – the love and tenderness that lies in my own heart, and in others’.

In grieving, we embrace our wholeness and imperfection. Father Gregory Boyle, a Jesuit priest who works alongside gang members in Los Angeles, put it this way: ‘rather than criticizing ourselves for how we carry our pain, we can simply marvel at what we carry.’

I’ll close with a poem from Jeanie Greensfelder.

A Love Story

Gather your selves:
critical and kind,
scared and brave,
thoughtless and hurt.

Mistakes and failures
meet accomplishments.
Like loss and love,
they are a package.

Embrace it all.
Such a coming together
is what we came for.

Needing hands on help?

If you’re needing hands on help with food and want more support for walking through the gate of vulnerability, here are ways I’m offering support:

The Heart of Food: this is a new course to soften anxiety, shame and self judgment with food. If you’ve been interested in my work, but were unsure where to start, this course may be a great fit for you. It will help you in 3 key areas: softening shame, self judgment and blame around your food struggles; gaining understanding and practice in caring for the key emotions and needs that drive you to food, and growing resilience, where you feel more capable and less victimized by food.

What’s new about this course is that it comes with monthly, group Q&A calls for 5 months. These regular calls give you a chance to ask questions, connect with others, and get support. This is often the ‘missing piece’ that do at home courses don’t offer, and I’m glad to make regular connection a part of your journey. You can learn more and see exactly what’s included here.

The next Q&A is Wednesday, Septembr 19th.

Here on this good Saturday I just finished eating soup I’d made with some vegetables I bought at the Farmer’s Market.

I love making soup – I enjoy the chopping of vegetables, the simmering pot of warmth on the stove, and the emotional cradle that comes from creating something nourishing.

When I’m feeling sad or low, soup making is one of the primary ways I care for myself or others, one way I honor the truth of life’s pain or a difficult time. It’s a tangible way of offering kindness and acceptance:  “I see that this is hard for you right now. Here, let me help you.”

I hear from many, many people that December and January can be hard months, especially if you live in the Northern Hemisphere and this is your season of winter. This extra, added difficulty can make your relationship with food that much harder.

I understand how a hard time makes food feel so much harder!

In today’s blog post, I want to talk about how you can honor difficult times with food with kindness, empathy and allowing – giving your hearts a space to be exactly where they’re at. This includes the most helpful tool I’ve found for food cravings:  asking for help.

There are certainly other tools or practices you can use when you feel a craving arising – things like befriending cravings, riding the craving like a wave, or EBT’s Damage Control tool.

But sometimes, instead of trying harder, or trying to use a tool to soften a craving, you need something much, much simpler:  to acknowledge your limits and ask for help.

Let me give you an example of how this might work.

It was Christmas day. It was late – past 11 p.m. – and I was hungry, tired and weary, and all of a sudden, the piles of holiday goodies at our holiday gathering place started to call my name.

I had thoroughly enjoyed a few holiday treats earlier that day – a brownie and a chocolate truffle – and knew I didn’t need any more sugar. I knew that if I had more my body would cross the line from feeling pleasured to feeling sick. So I knew my limits.

And I knew that in that moment, I did not have the strength or capacity to honor them. I did not need to try harder. I needed help.

So I shared my dilemma with my husband. I took him aside and said, “Hey, can you help me over the next hour or so until we leave for the hotel? I’m feeling a lot of cravings for sugar and know I’ll feel sick if I eat any more sweets. Can you help me?”

He agreed, and asked what that help would look like. I told him if I started heading for the treats to gently pull me aside. He nodded and we parted.

It was a simple thing, and yet I felt tremendous relief. For my sharing my need with him, and my admitting that I was feeling overwhelmed, immediately did two things – I relaxed, knowing I didn’t have to figure it out or do it on my own. I knew I didn’t have to rely on my own inner strength, which was lacking at the moment.

And I felt safe and protected, knowing I wasn’t going to end up eating too many sweets that would make me feel sick the next day. I now had the support I needed to avoid walking into harm – and it felt good.

This is the subtle but powerful shift that happens when we ask for help. It’s a two step dance of recognizing the limit – “ah, I’m feeling overwhelmed and need some support here!” – and then asking for the support that you need.

Here’s why this approach to cravings is helpful, healing and powerful:

This past week, I was attending a new parent support group. We were talking about the importance of the parent-child connection, and how to help our children feel more comfortable leaning on us and in asking for our help. I was nodding along, and then the leader of the group made this statement:  “Addiction can come from a lack of connection and a discomfort with asking for help.”

I felt the hairs on my arms stand up, because she was speaking directly to what I’m writing about here, and what we talk about in the blog, in the courses and classes.

There are many reasons why we might feel uncomfortable asking for help, including help with craving or bingeing. For starters, it’s vulnerable to admit our fallibility or neediness. We may wonder – will I be judged? Shamed? Blamed? Pitied? (You can read a letter here that I wrote to my alma mater on this topic, and why it’s important to create cultures that support human vulnerability.) In Western culture, where individualism, idealism, and self reliance are so prized, admitting need or weakness takes tremendous courage!

Sensitivity can also impact our comfort in asking for help. Many people who wrestle with overeating are sensitive, empathic and intuitive. And many times, sensitives and intuitives carry unconscious shame about their sensitive nature. This shame arises from our greater culture and can also arise from our own personal experiences within it, particularly as children.

This shame co-arises with our intense emotions, including food cravings. Anytime we feel ‘too much’ of something, or anytime we feel strongly craving, triggered, reactive, or overwhelmed, we also feel this shame of, “I shouldn’t be feeling this way” or “I shouldn’t have such strong reactions.”

These feelings of “should” and “know better” are the voice of shame talking. Because of this shame, we often feel like we should be able to be more present, mindful, integrated, or mature when cravings arise, capable of being with these intense feelings with greater and greater equanimity.

We feel this as an inner drive of, “I should be able to do this on my own.”

Because of this shame and this drive, we tend to try harder – trying to prove our strength in the face of this emotional wave – trying to not give into the craving on our own – rather than admittting the truth:  “This feels too much for me right now, and I need help.”

So honoring our limits is uncomfortable and is an act of courage – for it means facing and feeling this shame, and facing and feeling our limits. It means asking for help.

And it also brings rest and ease – for our willingness to ask for help is what heals the shame of “I should be different or know better.” Asking for help brings the feelings of safety and connection that we’re needing.

When we pause and ask for help, we’re moving in to protect our vulnerability rather than shame or criticize it. We’re saying, in so many words:  “I don’t have to prove how strong I am, or put myself into situations that are overwhelmingly alarming or frightening. I can ask for help and it’s ok.”

We’re saying, “I will not make war against my own humanity, against my own vulnerability.” We come alongside in support rather than in shaming shoulds.

For there are other kinds of strength than the strength of pushing through overwhelm. There’s the strength to look honestly at ourselves, the strength to know, understand and honor our limits, and the strength to care for our human vulnerability with compassion, wisdom, and respect.

Needing hands on help?

If you’re needing hands on help with food, here are ways I’m offering support:

The Heart of Food: this is a new course to soften anxiety, shame and self judgment with food. If you’ve been interested in my work, but were unsure where to start, this course may be a great fit for you. It will help you in 3 key areas: softening shame, self judgment and blame around your food struggles; gaining understanding and practice in caring for the key emotions and needs that drive you to food, and growing resilience, where you feel more capable and less victimized by food.

What’s new about this course is that it comes with monthly, group Q&A calls for 5 months. These regular calls give you a chance to ask questions, connect with others, and get support. This is often the ‘missing piece’ that do at home courses don’t offer, and I’m glad to make regular connection a part of your journey. You can learn more and see exactly what’s included here.

The next Q&A is Wednesday, Septembr 19th.

Learn how to soften the emotions underneath sugar cravings, where they can flow like water.

If you wrestle with sugar, the holidays can be a challenging time of year.

Sugar is seemingly everywhere, ingrained into many of the parties, get togethers and celebrations of the season. If you care for your emotions with sugar, and you have a hard time setting limits around it, you may be feeling overwhelmed or panicked about how to say no.

You may fear the next 10 days and wonder how you’ll cope!

I’ve created a resource page for you here with links to helpful articles, a link to a heart centered support program, and a new blog post on ways of understanding and diffusing the emotions that lie underneath sugar cravings. You can find this all below.

Making room for the emotions underneath cravings and impulses

To begin, I’d like to share a story about my son.

This morning I was stewing, having an internal debate on whether or not to buy my 11 year old son something from Santa. He no longer believes in Santa Claus, and yet I felt propelled to have something for him under the tree from Santa on Christmas morning.

So I found myself online, harried, rushed, alarmed, and anxiously scrambling to find something he’d like. Ah, it felt awful!

When I sat back and paused, I realized that my scrambling to find a gift was not about Santa, or about my son – I was trying to prevent him from feeling sad or disappointed on Christmas. I thought that if I just got one more special gift, I could guarantee a peaceful and happy Christmas.

The vulnerability underneath our emotional drives

This made me pause. For I realized – Oh. There is vulnerability here. There is something really tender underneath this impulse, this drive for the perfect holiday gift.

Underneath my frantic pursuit of a ‘happy Christmas,’ I found heartache, fear, and sorrow. I found the emotional residue of all the heartaches that my son has experienced this year, including the loss of a friendship with a very close friend, the inherent separation of moving out of childhood and into early adolescence, and the loss of three pets.

I saw how a part of me wanted to give him something to ease these losses – both for his sake, and for mine.

I could feel my own sadness and grief over these things, and how much this grief hadn’t been honored in the midst of the busyness of life. I could feel how much it wanted to be honored and felt. It was time.

Creating space for the emotion to move

So I put the computer away, leashed up the dog for a walk, and trekked to a pond a few blocks from my home. I cried and cried in the rain, for the grief and bittersweetness of it all, for my son’s sadness, and for my own.

I came home feeling softened and relieved, more connected to myself. Grief tenderizes us; it cracks our hearts open into this alive, tender, awake space where we feel the poignancy of being human, and fallible.

In the wake of this tender presence, the craving, driving search for the perfect present had fallen away. I came home strengthened by my tears, and more grounded in myself.

Moving into a space of strength

I am awed and amazed at how grief works, the emotional alchemy that it produces. For opening to grief – and to any intense emotion – is an alchemy and emotional journey. On the wake of grief, we often find resilience and a deepened intelligence.

In the case of my son and my quest for the perfect Santa gift, what fell away was my desire to control the outcome of the morning.

It was a relief to realize that my attempt to create a certain emotional experience for my son – even something simple like delighting him on Christmas morning – is truly not in my power, and to let it go. And it was a relief to turn towards what I truly do care about – my relationship with my son.

Instead of trying to make my son’s experience a happy one, I want to make room for whatever his experience is – happy, sad, frustrated, disappointed – on Christmas morning. I want to give my son intimacy and connection. I want to give my son, me. That is my heart’s desire.

This desire is what gives me the strength to walk into Christmas morning knowing that I may be greeted by many different messengers – delight, joy, disappointment, frustration, a tantrum, pouting, whining, you name it! – and the confidence to know that it’s all okay, that they aren’t wrong, and that I can help my son through them.

Making room for your emotional experience

I share this story because I find that many people who wrestle with food expereince these same dynamics internally, with themselves. Many sensitive and deep feelers harbor some residual fear of their strong or challenging emotions – especially if these emotions tend to get expressed in sugar or food.

Like my wanting to make everything work for my son on Christmas morning, this can result in our twisting ourselves into human knots trying to make everything work for ourselves – our attempt to prevent our own difficult emotions or reactions from arising.

In our own way, we are often doing the equivalent of searching for the perfect present, trying to keep ourselves from feeling sad, disappointed, frustrated, or lonely – or from touching that bittersweet grief of being impermanent, and alive. There are 10,000 ways we do this – whether it’s constantly keeping ourselves busy, distracting ourselves through entertainment, overdoing, overgiving, eating, planning, overcontrolling, perfectionism, and more.

It is so very human for us to have these reactions and responses! They’re not personal and not individual – we collectively share them. And underneath all of these things we’ll find our human vulnerability, and often, feelings and emotions that feel challenging to face and feel.

Underneath there is simple human tenderness.

It sounds counterintuitive, but making room for difficult feelings like disappointment, loneliness, sadness, grief, and frustration is how to soften these emotions so that they don’t end up in a sugar binge. Here are a few concrete ways of working with these emotions and dynamics:

• Welcome your true feelings. Many of us have learned to edit or minimize our feelings – especially if appearing ‘needless’ or ‘less emotional’ was a way of receiving approval, having belonging, or feeling connected to others. But if our feelings are constantly being dismissed or minimized, the emotional build up tends to come out in food. Can you be honest with yourself about how you’re truly feeling? I find that honoring the truth of how we feel is what gives space for this emotional energy to be expressed and to move, so it isn’t building and building only to come out in a binge. Honoring the truth of how we feel is not equated with acting on it, following whatever whim or fancy it dictates – merely, that admitting what we’re truly feeling is the first step of emotional self care.

• Invite in the difficult. Big emotions tend to come up around the holidays, for we all can carry expectations and longings about how we want the holidays to unfold, as well as memories and felt experiences of holidays past. When these emotions arise, we tend to feel ashamed, guilty, or somehow at fault – as if we should’ve done something to prevent these painful emotions from coming up. Rather than seeing these emotions as proof that something’s wrong, or that something’s wrong with you, normalize and make room for them. It’s simply our human vulnerability appearing, and something that yearns for connection. This is moving from a mindset of ‘these feelings are my enemy’ to ‘these feelings are pointing to a vulnerability that is asking for love and support.’ This approach makes space for a ‘tend and befriend’ rather than a ‘fight or flight’ response to our human neediness.

• Reach out for emotional support. Emotional support – empathy, connection, listening, being heard, feeling seen, and being witnessed – creates a container where emotions can move, ebb and flow. It softens feelings of fear or shame that can arise around our human emotions and neediness, and builds feelings of strength and resilience. Where are places where you can receive emotional support – whether it’s from a friend, partner, family member, counselor, or support group? Sharing our vulnerability with a trusted other is a bridge to intimacy and connection, and softens the modern tendency to ‘tough it out on our own.’

• Create a connection plan. Create a plan for daily touches of connection – both internally, with yourself – and externally, with others. When our connection needs run dry, several emotions arise – including frustration, anxiety, and what my mentor calls intensified pursuit. All of these emotions can drive you towards food. Proactively meeting your attachment and connection needs can soften these drives and help you feel less driven towards sugar or food. Connecting with Nature and the earth is a helpful antidote to any kind of overdoing, including overeating.

• Play. Give yourself emotional outlets for emotions to move. While tears and crying are one way of moving emotion, laughter, play, movement, and artistic expression are other ways of doing so that are equally helpful and powerful. Going for a walk, doing something silly, playing with your kids or nieces and nephews (roughhousing is a great way to move energy), dancing, singing to holiday music, making art, playing a game of catch, or playing in the snow if you live in a cold climate – all these things can soften the load on the limbic system.

• Give yourself scaffolding and support. If the holidays are a hard time of year for you, give yourself extra support. This kind of support will look different for each person, but whether it’s structured meal times, having an exercise partner, or scheduling time at a yoga class, find ways to honor your daily needs in a rhythmic way during a time that tends to be busier and full of activity. Make a plan for those times when bingeing tends to happen, a ‘riverbank’ to hold the flow of the river.

More reading you may enjoy on this topic:

If you’re eager to learn or read more about understanding the emotions and drives that feed sugar cravings, as well as how to build impulse control and soften the drive for it, then these posts may be a help to you –

• How to find healing in a sugar binge – learn how you can bring in compassion and self care after a sugar binge, and shift your thinking about, “I screwed up!”
• How to eat less sugar without white knuckling it – this post explains how to build impulse control – where you make room for both feelings and your deeper desire, where you can feel the impulse to sugar binge and honor your deeper values of saying no
• How to strengthen the inner voice to say no to sugar – to eat less sugar, replace the false refuge that you find in sugar with an internal refuge – a nest of safety that brings the safety, security and soothing you desire.
• Why longing for sugar isn’t a problem – find a new way of relating to sugar cravings, and to see them for what they truly are – a longing for love
• How sugar heals our relationship to our needs – How sugar heals our relationship with our human neediness and vulnerability

Wanting more hands on help?

If you’re needing hands on help with food, here are ways I’m offering support:

The Heart of Food: this is a new course to soften anxiety, shame and self judgment with food. If you’ve been interested in my work, but were unsure where to start, this course may be a great fit for you. It will help you in 3 key areas: softening shame, self judgment and blame around your food struggles; gaining understanding and practice in caring for the key emotions and needs that drive you to food, and growing resilience, where you feel more capable and less victimized by food.

What’s new about this course is that it comes with monthly, group Q&A calls for 5 months. These regular calls give you a chance to ask questions, connect with others, and get support. This is often the ‘missing piece’ that do at home courses don’t offer, and I’m glad to make regular connection a part of your journey. You can learn more and see exactly what’s included here.

The next Q&A is Wednesday, September 19th.