“Curve your appetite with yoga.”
Uh, okay.
First of all, I’m pretty sure those are just words strung together. I still can’t figure out what it’s supposed to mean other than some take on the idea that if I do yoga I’ll put the kibosh on wanting to eat.
So not wanting to eat is…good?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to bash yoga. I love yoga. I’m not an exceptionally gifted practitioner –imagine Patsy or Edina from Abfab trying to do a Salute to the Sun and you’ve just about got it– but I’m on the yoga bandwagon, and not because it’s the only acceptable place to wear yoga pants in public. Although it is.
But I’m also on the eating when I’m hungry bandwagon.
If my stomach says “Hey, we haven’t hung out in a while. Howzabout you and I go to town on some of these here black beans?” I’ll say “Great idea Stomach, do you want me to bring the cotija, cilantro and lime or will you?” and IT will reply “You should. I’m an internal organ and thus have limited citrus-picking capabilities.” and then, not being able to argue with logic, I’ll bring some limes and we’ll both get happy on some seriously luscious legumes.
My appetite is sated and I don’t die of starvation or get sick (yet again) from malnourishment.
It works out for everyone.
As big girls, most of us have had intuitive eating beaten right out of us, sometimes literally by the people who love or sometimes “love” us.
We’re told not to listen to our bodies, that our bodies are trying to betray us and we should have this celery stick instead of that deviled egg we so desperately crave. Your body wants protein? But protein often has fat in it and there’s nothing worse than eating fat. Or sugar. Or wheat. Or Salt. Or whatever they say is going to make you die from fat this news cycle and cure cancer the next.
It’s damn hard to get back to intuitive eating, and eating valuable foods. Many of us have a ton of emotional baggage and actual internal damage –my stomach prolapsed in college after I was given phen fen as a teenager and I spent the next ten years suffering malnutrition thanks to a completely shot and shell-shocked metabolism– so even the most natural thing in the world can be a tough row to hoe.
If you’re interested in learning more about intuitive eating an eating that’s both emotionally and physically healthful (no, it’s not a diet) I invite you to visit IntuitiveEating.org and my personal favorite resident of the fatosphere: Fat Nutritionist. It’s probably the best way to lose weight.
I do like the way “curve” your appetite sounds far better than “curb” your appetite. I want a curved figure!
Comment by class factotum — June 4, 2012 @ 1:01 pm
I only lose my appetite when I am sick or under extreme stress. It’s not a good sign.
Nevertheless, I tend to embrace it in spite of myself. “I just had the flu! Not I am satisfied with 1/4 cup of cornflakes for breakfast. Yay!”
Unfortunately, for me, what goes hand in hand with not eating when I’m hungry, is eating way too much when I’m not hungry at all. I gather that’s pretty common for those of us who have divorced ourselves from our appetites.
Comment by Thinposter — June 4, 2012 @ 1:05 pm
“curve your appetite”?
I’m too offended by the misused idiom to read anything those idiots have to say!
Comment by wildflower — June 4, 2012 @ 2:26 pm
Me, too, wildflower. It’s curb for heavens’ sakes. CURB. Does no one hire proofreaders with actual English degrees any more?
Comment by Jezebella — June 4, 2012 @ 6:50 pm
I just saw a friend of mine who looked quite skinny. Oh, she said, I lost 47 pounds doing Jenny Craig and giving up wine.
And I think to myself, why? Eating prepackaged airline-type food and not having a glass of wine? How horrible. Yet she was so proud. What’s it all about? Why is it so great to be skinny?
Comment by Helena Z. Wilson — June 4, 2012 @ 7:56 pm
My appetite is why (I believe) I’m healing so well from my recent major surgery. Less than three weeks after and I was back to work. GO FOOD!
Comment by ZaftigWendy — June 5, 2012 @ 2:19 am
FLAGELLANT
F ood is the enemy.
L onging fills your belly.
A nother birthday passes without cake, though
G ifts of torture are plentiful:
E xercise ball, too-small T-shirt, diet book.
L acerations enumerate your insufficiencies.
L onging fills your belly.
A sparagus (steamed), fish (broiled), salad (undressed) –
N utrition of the scourged.
T elltale wounds of the diet casualty.
Please forgive the imposition of my meagre attempts at poesy, but I blame Plummy for her profuse words of praise on a previous poetic post.
Comment by Desideria — June 5, 2012 @ 2:28 am
Jezebella, the real question is, “Does no one hire proofreaders?” and the answer is no, they don’t.
Comment by class factotum — June 5, 2012 @ 11:47 am
Sigh. That’s so depressing. It’s also why I quit reading my small-town newspaper – I believe the last straw was when “Loretta Scott King” passed away. It was the headline, even.
I teach art history to a lot of graphic design students, many of whom get huffy when I tell them that spelling, grammar, and syntax count. “But we’re ART MAJORS!” they whine… Yes, art majors who are going into the business of advertising, which means, ye gods, Standard Written English.
Comment by Jezebella — June 5, 2012 @ 1:03 pm
I actually think that intuitive eating has been beaten out of pretty much everyone. Between “Don’t eat that” and “Clean your plate,” it’s a miracle whether anyone knows whether they are hungry or satiated or full. So I’m on board for the intuitive eating thing; it’s how I live.
Comment by megaera — June 5, 2012 @ 4:35 pm