A week off the white stuff

When I wrote this post I was feeling very unhappy about my body, both my physical size and the way I felt inside. I felt bloated and uncomfortable a lot of the time, and I was aware the way I was eating wasn't doing me any good.

Tired from constant wake ups with Violet and the general demands of two small children, I was reaching into the cupboard for a sweet treat without really thinking. We live near a gorgeous bakery and stopped by most days. It was when I noticed I was buying two or three different cakes just for me, eating them and still wanting more, that I realised my sweet tooth had got completely out of control.

Then I read this post by Keri-Anne whose gorgeous blog Gingerlillytea I absolutely LOVE and when she mentioned only having eaten sweets or chocolates twice since Christmas something clicked inside my head.

I suddenly realised I needed to stop eating sugar.

I have a massive sweet tooth and absolutely LOVE chocolates, cakes, biscuits, baked goods, doughnuts, flapjacks, puddings, ice cream, you name it. I'm not ashamed to admit I'm a bit of an emotional eater as well. If I feel sad, grumpy, tired, miserable or even just a bit bored and restless my hand reaches for a biscuit practically automatically. And then another. And another. Once I start I find it hard to stop, I can easily demolish half a packet of biscuits or an entire family-sized chocolate bar in one sitting, and still want more.

I can't remember the last time I went more than a day, two at a push, without eating some form of sweet treat. Once or twice I have decided I'm not going to eat so many, will manage a day or two, then I'll reach a point where hunger, deprivation and general cravings collide and snap, and demolish anything sweet I can get my hands on. Then I'll feel crap and beat myself up for not being able to stick to my resolve and seeing as I've started that packet of biscuits I might as well finish them now….

It's not really had a huge impact on my weight as I have always been so active, but in a way this means I have given myself permission to eat even more biscuits and chocolates 'because I work out'. But it was starting to have a massive impact on the way I felt about myself, and so the sugar had to go.

To be clear I'm not talking about cutting out all forms of sugar. I know some are fanatical about going sugar-free and cut out fruit, dairy (which contains lactose) and refuse to entertain sugar substitutes like honey, maple syrup or agave nectar. I don't suffer from any intolerances or medical conditions and for a healthy person like me, I felt to cut out all forms of sugar completely would be unnecessary.

That said, I felt it was important I went a bit cold turkey to begin with to really break the sugar habit. I didn't want to replace eating three cakes from the bakery with demolishing three muffins sweetened with honey or maple syrup instead, so I have spent the last week avoiding any sugar substitutes at all. I have eaten fruit, and bread which contains some sugar. But I have avoided any foods, sauces, cereals and the like that list sugar in the ingredients (I thought I would be safe with a bowl of good old Corn Flakes, until I read the label. Once you start looking there's sugar EVERYWHERE!)

It hasn't been easy. I have felt quite limited in what I can eat and despite being aware I was eating and relying on sugar far too much it has surprised me how often I've wanted something sweet. After every meal my mind instantly wanders to a pudding. I want sweet snacks during the day, and at breakfast I've been pretty much limited to toast and eggs or nut butter (I'm not a fan of porridge). Any time I get a bit restless I've started thinking about how much I want something sweet to eat.

On Tuesday night I actually made a batch of raw chocolate peanut butter cups, which are free from refined sugar but do have maple syrup in them. I thought, at least if I have these on standby if the cravings do get too much I can have one instead of thinking 'oh sod it' and buying and eating half a bakery. Having the reassurance of a standby seems to have worked well, as I haven't touched them yet.

I have tried to avoid thinking too much about sugar but haven't forced my mind away if it has popped into my head that I'd like something sweet. I've definitely eaten more fruit than I usually do, and a bit more cheese too. What's been surprising is the realisation that basically everything I have been snacking on contains sugar. I haven't snacked on fruit or cheese in years. I've just been defaulting to something sweet. It's quite eye-opening.

A week in and I feel amazing. I have noticed a huge difference, with absolutely no bloating or cramping and a massive reduction in general gassiness. As a result I feel far less lardy, even though I have no idea if I've lost any weight or not. I feel much more comfortable in my clothes, my waistbands feel looser, and I just generally feel happier. And my skin looks great, although it's been pretty good since I got into the green smoothie habit.

I don't feel particularly deprived and my mood has been quite stable and upbeat, which is a pleasant surprise. I definitely felt a bit grumpy the first day or two and had a bit less patience with Cherry but after the third sugar-free day it was business as usual. I feel like I've had much more energy, we've had a busy week and I've run or cycled or done yoga every day, but I'm not feeling particularly worn out from it.

Today I have made a batch of sweet potato brownies as I do want to have something to nibble on and I seem to be turning to toast and peanut butter a bit more than I would like. I am a bit concerned this will open the floodgates and I will be piling down mountains of muffins within days. If this happens I'll have to go back to no substitutes. But I'm hopeful I can introduce a couple of alternatives and keep them as genuine treats, not everyday treats.

I'm very much taking an experimental, take it one day at a a time approach which feels less pressured. I can't see me never eating sugar again and I have in mind that a chocolate egg at Easter would be a nice stepping-stone to give me something to look forward to. But the main thing is I know I can go a whole week without eating any sugary snacks, and that feels like a bit of an achievement if I'm honest.

The size of things

I took these photos this morning, for a different post (to come) on what I'm doing round the house.

I knew I'd got bigger lately but I hadn't realised, or wanted to see, quite how big.

Generally I dislike how I look in most photographs, the photos I like the most are the ones in which I probably look least like me. That's a complicated sentence to explain. I've been reading a lot by Geneen Roth recently (highly, highly recommend) and she talks about growing up waiting to look like a model and being utterly perplexed when she didn't.

I really identified. Growing up I read glossy teen magazines and the occasional illicit Cosmo. I was mesmerised by the girls in the pictures and desperate to be like them. But also, as a young impressionable girl, I was desperate to grow up and somewhere along the line my brain confused the two. I thought when I grew up, I would look like a model - because all the images I consumed suggested that would be the case.

I can see I've never really let go of that idea. I hope that doesn't sound too arrogant, I want to make it clear I don't actually think I look like a model. But I am so used to seeing images of women who are so slender in the first place so posed and airbrushed and manufactured that somehow my brain seems to think ALL women look like that in photographs - including me. Everybody knows there are only three body types for women. Tiny and petite and delicate, tall and willowy, or curvy. I'm neither petite nor curvy, I am tall, ergo surely I should be willowy, yes?

Well clearly not. But believe it or not that's the image of myself I've been carrying around with me. I like photos of me that hint at willowiness, emphasise my bone structure, disguise my broadness and softness. We all like pictures that emphasise what we perceive as our best features after all.

I actually don't have huge amounts of pictures of myself. My parents didn't take that many when I was growing up and I never took any during my 20's. So I don't have a lot of photographic evidence to counteract my mistaken belief that I am, somewhere underneath, willowy and ethereal.

When I looked at these pictures I think for the first time I truly let go of that idea and just saw myself. Truly myself.

I can't say I was thrilled. I look bigger than I want to be. Bigger than I've been in years. Bigger than I'm comfortable with.

I waited for the inevitable self-flagellation to start, the despairing thoughts about being fat and overweight and lazy and greedy and having no self control and all the other things we tell ourselves when we're not happy with ourselves.

But when I thought about it, none of that was there.

When I look at these pictures I see a woman who has given away too much of herself.

A woman who has lost touch with her body and what her body wants and needs.

A woman who hasn't slept through the night in 18 months and is still smiling.

A woman who has given as much of herself as she possibly, possibly can to her family and her very young children, and who is still giving.

I see a woman who is always carrying, wiping, lifting, fetching, helping, moving, pushing, cuddling.

A woman still breastfeeding a voracious 18-month-old (breastfeeding might melt away the pounds for some, for me it sees my body desperately hang on to stores of fat put down during pregnancy. What can I say, I make gold top.)

I see a woman who has put her children's needs way, way above her own longing for time and space and physical activity and breaking a sweat.

I see a woman who misses her fitness and the daily workouts she once took for granted.

I see a woman who feeds her family and often doesn't have the energy left to think about what she might want to eat, so instead eats snacks and treats and too much of the wrong thing because it's there.

And I see a woman who often does reach into the cupboard for a chocolate biscuit or a cake or a treat because she wants something for herself, even if it is just baked goods.

I feel great compassion for that woman. The last thing I'm going to do is give her a hard time for gaining a bit of weight.

What to do, though? I have never been on a diet and I don't believe in diets per se. They are a short-term fix for a symptom, and completely overlook the cause. I know what food is 'good' for me and what is 'bad' for me. I don't want to follow complex and restrictive regimes and I respond extremely badly to any sense of deprivation.

I need to get back in touch with my body and let my body guide me. My body likes to be active and move. It likes to eat food that nourishes it. I've known I was gaining weight for a while because I feel pretty uncomfortable most of the time. My body isn't happy with what I'm eating and how I'm eating it, that much is clear.

If I think about it, properly think about it, I don't want to eat rubbish and junk and endless chocolate and snacks. It doesn't make me feel good and it doesn't satisfy me. Nor does not exercising, sitting on the sofa watching TV, or any other weight-inducing habits.

If I listen to my body, really listen, I am pretty confident the weight will take care of itself. And even if it doesn't, when I look at these photographs, I can still find plenty about them that I like.

(I just want to make it crystal clear this is a personal post about my personal feelings about my body and my weight and relates to nobody else's body, feelings, size or weight but mine!)