What We Get Wrong About Emotional Eating

As I sat down to write this post, my mind immediately began scrolling through my clients, our conversations, and our outcomes. I can’t pinpoint even one client who didn’t think that they struggled with some form of food “addiction” or emotional eating. Now, perhaps it’s simply the type of client that ends up in my (virtual) office, but I disagree. Because I’ve actually found this to be consistent across most people whom I encounter — friends, family, and strangers.

Will Power? Think Again.

How can it be that so many of us believe we are weak in the face of delicious foods, and that the answer is to work harder to stay away from them?

Well, part of it is cultural programming — we’ve been exposed to these concepts for decades through media, product marketing, and simple conversations. We’ve been told that the reason we can’t control ourselves around certain foods is because they are manufactured to be addictive and we just don’t have enough will power. I call bullshit. I’m not a fan of beating down the door of will power, but that’s for another day.

What’s the other part of this mass addiction to foods and a total lack of mental fortitude to stop ourselves from this destructive behavior? (If you haven’t noticed, these bold-ed words are me being sarcastic).

It’s rooted in food restriction, dieting, and general under-eating (intentional or not). And lo and behold, this is consistent with the experiences of my clients.

Let’s Stop The Blame Game

First and foremost, I want to note that feeling addicted to sugar or experiencing uncontrollable urges to eat everything in your cabinet at 9pm is not something to feel crappy about. It’s also not something to blame yourself for.

The concept of will power would have us believe that we hold the key to resisting these emotional behaviors.

Side note: I am not just a nutritionist — I also coach high level endurance athletes, where I believe vehemently in the power of the mind to overcome discomfort. Will power can show up in different ways, and can be defined therein, but there are important nuances, and I’ll explain further why it doesn’t belong in the context of food addiction and emotional eating.

And so, my clients (and others) blame themselves and just fight harder to keep these addicting foods out of sight, out of their kitchen, and out of their mind (but of course, the body is smarter than this).

The thing about restricting certain foods (let’s take ice cream as our example today) is that we give that food meaning, power, and allure. We avoid it at all costs, and inevitably when we do encounter it at a birthday party, we feel intense fear or discomfort, and then either end up eating more of it than is comfortable, or we find ourselves in the corner of the party shoveling it down as fast as possible before anyone notices.

AH-HA! Confirmed! We must be ADDICTED! And so we blame ourselves for lack of control, or we blame the food for being so addictive, or we call it emotional if we’re sitting home alone on our couch eating from the pint (I am not against eating from the pint — big fan).

But here’s the thing, and the point of this whole diatribe: Research tells us that feelings of food addiction occur through periods of restriction. So, if we don’t expose ourselves to ice cream, we are more likely to “binge” on it when we have the chance.

And another important piece of this: If we are generally not feeding ourselves enough food to meet our energy needs, our physiological needs will override any “will power” and demand that we “emotionally” eat everything we possibly can. This is SO COMMON.

My clients will often not eat enough throughout the day (maybe they were busy, maybe they are dealing with disordered eating, maybe they are dieting), and then find themselves bingeing in the evening, and call it emotional. Well my friends, it is PRIMAL. It is your body saying “I need food and I need it now”. That’s going to feel emotional and that’s going to feel addictive. But in fact, it’s simply because they didn’t meet their energy needs during the day, and now their body is trying to make up for those nutrient deficiencies.

The blame game applies here again: There is not need to judge or blame yourself if you’re realizing that your restriction might be causing these addictive and emotional feelings around food.

So what do we do?

This is a process that takes months, if not years, with my clients. So please know that it’s not an overnight change, or an internal switch you can flip and immediately feel free of this mental and physical hold that certain foods have on you.

But the basic framework is this:

1. Identify your personal brand of restriction. Are you dieting / cutting calories? Are you avoiding a food group like carbohydrates? Are you not eating enough to meet the energy demands of your body? Are you demonizing specific food products or ingredients? Make a list.

2. Identify your fear foods. Similar to the above, but slightly nuanced: What foods spark anxiety and fear? Make a list.

3. Trace it back in time. Think about where these beliefs began. Think about how your relationship with food evolved throughout your life. Journal about it, talk to a practitioner about it, start getting familiar with your own story.

4. Stop the restriction. Increase your caloric intake. And if this sounds terrifying, please work with a nutrition practitioner who can help you do this in a way that feels good.

5. Incorporate your fear foods and “addictive” foods. EXPOSURE. This takes time, and it’s often a deliberate process that, again, is best done in conjunction with a nutrition professional. The only way to beat those feelings of addiction and emotional eating is to stop depriving yourself of the very foods that bring about that behavior.

6. Remember that food should be enjoyable, comforting, and pleasurable. Yes, food is EMOTIONAL. We carry feelings of nostalgia with us, memories that we associate with certain meals, and of course, certain tastes that just bring us joy. THAT IS PERFECTLY OKAY! In fact, it’s GOOD. Work towards enjoying food and making decisions about food that are done through a practice of self-care instead of self-control.

I’ll wrap this up by reiterating something: This is a PROCESS and a JOURNEY. It is not something I recommend doing alone. It’s to take patience and self-compassion.

I’m sending you strength, as always. Xo, Abbie.