Jul. 12th 2010
In working with all types of addicts, the question raised to me above all other questions is this: “Claire, you’re always talking about imparting self-love in order to heal. How do you act with self-love if you don’t love yourself?” The underlying question is back to the same issue I talked about the other day… “nuts and bolts.” People want instructions. Concrete steps they can follow, and rely on. And it’s a point well taken. For someone who wakes up every day self-loathing, my telling them that the healing will occur if they treat themselves with love is far too broad, abstract, and intangible. It would be like asking an anxious person who has never seen the ocean to visualize his self at a beach as a means to relax. If you’ve never experienced pure and true love, from yourself, or others, how do you possibly operate on love’s terms? And how do you then remain open to the type of growth and change I am proposing, without becoming frustrated or skeptical?
Our life experiences shape our core beliefs. So if your life has been filled with disappointments, inadequate support, and unfulfilled dreams, it would logically follow that you would struggle to believe in love as your ticket to greener pastures. You have no reference point. Long before you can understand how to love yourself and others as a means to change, you must first flesh out what life could have looked like for you. Stop and think for a moment about being a child. Imagine what you wished the adults in your life had said to you, how they might have supported you, and what they could have done differently to be there for you. Make a list of all the things you would have liked to have had happen in your life, and what you think may have gotten in the way of that. People with body image issues usually think that their flawed physique is the only thing standing between them and their dreams. “If I were thin, he would love me…If I was 50 pounds lighter I would apply for that job….If I didn’t look so disgusting my parents would have been proud of me.” Yet there are people out there, who are overweight, who are in love, who have good jobs, who outwardly appear happy….how did that happen?
What I am suggesting is pushing one step further and reflecting on what were the missing pieces that conditioned you to reach for food instead of something else. Excessive weight is a tangible, physically uncomfortable representation of our “issues”. Because our “issues” manifest in the form of such of a loaded and socially unacceptable form, (fat), there is a component of shame more significant than for those whose “issues” manifest in other ways. Hence, overweight people to tend to take more responsibility in situations than people who aren’t overweight. As a result, we tend to minimize pains that have happened in our life, and all of that unsettled energy zeros right in on our tummies and rear ends instead of the events that led to them.
I can’t tell you how many clients I’ve worked with who tell me “it really just wasn’t that bad,” as we explore the years leading up to the moment they sat down in the chair across from me, desperate for change. I worked with a young woman once who told me that the only time her father told her he was proud of her was when the number on the scale went down on her weigh-in day. Was he violently abusive? No. Did he help her pay for college, and meet all of her basic needs? Yes. But considering this scenario through the “what-was-missing-lens,” she was missing a father who was able to acknowledge that she was a college graduate, an incredibly giving young woman, who was listened to her friends and family tirelessly, and never judged anyone she met. She was missing that she didn’t have parents that were able to tell her that the only reason they ever made any comment about her food or her weight was because of how deeply they loved her and wanted her strong and healthy. She was missing having people in her life who realized that she needed more love and attention, not criticism, when her weight was day by day creeping slowly up to 300 pounds.
So now that we’ve established that for many of us, listing what was sooooo bad is too uncomfortable and teetering on “victim-ish,” as a first step in defining love, try to make a list of what was missing. That is likely more tolerable. After getting honest, and familiarizing yourself with this list and these concepts, the next step would be operating day to day in a way that’s more in line with the things you identified that were missing. Another woman I worked with told me how the dinner table at her house was always painfully silent. Silence so thick and uncomfortable, she was left with an emptiness that only buttery rolls and chocolate milk would fill. For her, I would prescribe developing a new mealtime routine. If she was eating alone, she should light a candle on the table, perhaps some flowers, and fill the background by turning on the most beautiful music she could think of. She should take time to taste each bite and work to notice the relation to the sounds she heard, and the feelings she is having. And furthermore, she should make a concerted effort to dine with people on a regular basis, who make her feel safe, and would help her draw the connection between healthy dialogue and eating a meal.
For every theme that emerges on our list, there are hundreds of concrete real life strategies we can impart towards defining self-love. This method requires first an openness to be honest with ourselves, and next a willingness to behave in very unfamiliar, and sometimes uncomfortable ways. Just like anything in life that’s unfamiliar, the more you do it, the more likely it will slowly become your new norm. The alternative of course is to not make changes, thus continuing a lifestyle established during times of trouble, and thus ensuring we can continue to feel the way we currently feel, and eat the way we currently eat.
