The Change That Changes Everything, Part 6
As I’ve mentioned before, I began this eating plan as a trial run, “just to see what happens” and to see if it would help with my horrible chronic pain. I did not set out to change the way I ate forever. In fact, when I first began eating this way, I literally could not even allow myself to think about “regular food” (i.e. the foods I used to eat). I would dismiss out of hand any thought that popped into my head of former treasured foods—pizza, I’m looking at you!—or of any idea that this would be a lifetime change. I just couldn’t “go there.”
Every day, I would plan for the day at hand, and tell myself, “I can eat this way today.” It was literally one day at a time.
I also found myself struggling desperately with other psychological aspects to this new way of eating. Here they are, in no particular order:
1) “I can eat this way today.”
This was by far the biggest psychological hurdle. You can’t think about forever. You can’t plan for a lifetime of eating this way. Just do today. The todays will add up until you’ve completed your trial period—however long you gave yourself initially to see if you notice any differences that make you want to continue. For some, it was a month, for some three months. So far, we’ve all made the switch and just continued eating this way, never to stop. But it is because we don’t want to go back. If you complete your trial, and then you want to go back to eating your old way, that’s perfectly your choice. It won’t hurt anything to have eaten mostly vegetables for a few months!
2) “I don’t want to be ‘that person’!”
This was (and is) a big one for me. I feel dumb being the person who needs a special diet… who eats weird at potlucks and parties and wedding receptions (if she eats at all!)… who takes her own food places… who can’t come to your house for dinner… who is asking about the gluten-free and vegan sections of the menu at a restaurant. (Note: It is challenging to eat this way at a restaurant, but not impossible—and you almost certainly have to fudge on the no-processed-oil part, even if you find places that you can have mostly whole foods that come from plants. But during the Very Difficult First Three Weeks—that initial period when you can’t get your bearings or figure out how you’re going to cook this way Every. Single. Day.—we relied heavily on a trip to Moe’s or Cava to get us through some days!)
3) “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I find myself caught in this near schizophrenic place, between wanting to never, ever talk about this, hoping no one ever asks me, especially in front of others… and wanting to tell everyone I know, because I’m convinced they’ll feel better and be healthier if they make this switch. But I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. I don’t want them to roll their eyes at me… to think ”she’s talking about that again,” or “Laurie is at it again with something weird,” or “I bet she’s judging me.” (For the record, I’m not judging you! After all, you’re the one eating conventionally, and I’m the one doing the next weird, counter-cultural thing!) I don’t want to bring it up to people because I don’t want them to think in any way that I think they should be eating this way, too. I totally respect your decision to eat however you want to, and to do so without thinking that I’m judging you for not eating "my" way. But if I think it would help you with some pain or physical issue you’re having, it is hard not to want to tell you!
That's why I've written these blog posts. Now I can "tell you," without telling you in person, and you can read or not read based on your own interest. Feel free to ask questions, of course (posting them in the comments is fine), but I'm trying to give answers to folks' questions—as they pose them to me—in the blog posts themselves.
4) "But I'm a good cook!"
This one is stupid, maybe, but I'm a good cook. I've spent a lifetime honing my cooking skills, and I make delicious food. Well, delicious conventional food. This way of cooking and preparing food is totally different, and it is totally outside of my element. I am no longer a "good cook" in the same way I was. I feel like I'm having to learn all kinds of new ways of cooking now,.. and even so, it is quite probable that only other whole food/plant-based eaters will find the new foods utterly delicious. This may be, for me, nothing more than the death of some worldly pride, but it is real nevertheless, and it is inextricably bound with the next one...
5) "But we feed people!"
There's a sign on my fridge that says, "Food is our love language," and it's the truth. For years, a significant part of the way I care for and love people has been to feed them... to cook for them... to have them over and fellowship over a shared meal. Things that are sometimes challenging for others were easy for me: cooking for a crowd, inviting people into your home even if it isn't spotless or the meal is simple fare. This is an entirely different skill set, and I am still—to this day (four months in now)—finding it challenging to cook for a crowd this way. It is expensive to buy organic produce. It is time-consuming to chop all the vegetables... and it takes a lot of vegetables! I'm sure this will get easier as I get more experienced with it, but it is a very real piece of the puzzle for me at this point.
6) "My face is kind of saggy now."
This is a piece that is difficult to share (because I feel vulnerable and silly), but there it is. If you switch to eating this way and lose a lot of weight—and if, like me, you carry a lot of weight in your face and are over the age of 50—the skin on your face and neck may sag in disconcerting ways after the weight loss. My daughters assure me that "slim and a little saggy" is far more attractive and preferable to "taut and fat," but it is still a psychological piece of it for me. I do, however, feel far more attractive, slim...saggy skin notwithstanding.
Read Part 7, Let's Hear From Some Experts
Start the story at the beginning with Part 1.
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