Today, I start my next round of Whole 30. I failed at my third attempt last month. While I gained so much physical and psychological progress from my successful round, it still takes an immense about of planning and drive to complete one. Between buying a house, moving, and chasing Knish around, I was not in the right space. But instead of aiming for moderation, I have channeled my stress into my favorite past time - eating. Eating to evoke memories and feelings and back tracking on all the progress I made in the thirty days. I was eating to feel good but none of it was working. So I have written this as my mental jolt as I prepare for the next thirty days. Food and emotions are so closely linked, and I need to practice eating as fuel for my body, not eating to fuel my feelings.
This is our last encounter. Long gone are the days when your sugary, pillowy body would jolt and fuel my morning. Now I'm left instead still hungry, with sugar tummy, and even more lethargic. And yet, still wanting more.
I remember first meeting you as a treat on sick days when my dad would pick me up from school. The sugar was an easy treat for us both, we could bond over it, and it made us bot ha little happy. But, it turns out, it was never the doughnuts that really did this.
I remember summers when I worked at a fancy bakery. But it was far more satisfying to stop at the Mom & Pop doughnut shop at 5:30 am to a freshly fried still hot doughnut than any of the fancy cheesecakes at my workplace.
Doughnuts, you dot my memory, sporadic and poignant, as a trusty snack along my path of growing up. This change is not you, it's me.
I have changed while you have remained exactly the same. It's okay to admit when we are growing apart.
I need more. I need protein and vegetables, and dearest Doughnuts, you cannot change enough to be these things for me and honestly, I wouldn't want you to. I know you'll always be here, but I just don't like you like that anymore.
I know my daughter will partake, after all growing up is finding balance and tasting treats. But my special Friday treat is no longer that. Not due to too many Friday indulgences, as they were getting more and more infrequent, but because you don't taste special anymore. You are nostalgic and I remember how I felt when I was with you as much as I remember how good you used to taste. But now I need to separate these. You will never taste as good as you do in that memory. And I need to be able to remember those feelings without the food.
Yes, food is a strong sense to our memories, can trigger memories, and is so much a part of who we are. But I don't need to eat you to remember those times.
I know other people still love you and I know that you will continue on your journey to bring joy to so many others. But you're not right for me and I need to start doing something about it.