“There are about seven people in the world who righteously use food as fuel. Six of them are professional marathon runners from Kenya, and the last one is Bob Greene.” -Wendy Shanker

Some shiz been going on. Like, personal shiz. 

And I don’t want to talk about it, but I’m going through a break-up, and it’s awful, and I just want to lie in my bed and eat chocolate-covered pretzels and watch Scandal all day.

(Okay maybe I do want to talk about it).

And yeah, I’ve gone through a couple pints of Haagen Daaz this month when I wasn’t particularly hungry, and it was awesome — like a totally valid and worthwhile part of my grieving process.

Did I NEEED to eat chocolate covered pretzels, because I just couldn’t resist / hold myself back?

No…I just wanted to.

In that moment, I made a decision to eat emotionally. SUCK IT.

Because here’s the thing…

Eating IS emotional. Food, like sex, has an impact on the way we feel. The effects may be temporary, but they still exist, and you’re allowed to utilize food as a coping mechanism if you so choose.

And I know what you’re thinking…

“But Isabel, where do I draw the line?? If I let myself eat emotionally I’d NEVER STOP.”

And the answer is “YOU get to draw the line.” Where ever the hell you want to draw it.

I don’t teach women how to “not eat emotionally” (which implies that emotional eating is some devil that none of us should dare take part in without shame).

I teach women how to be empowered in their choices around food, so that instead of being a slave to food, feeling out of control when the bread basket hits, you are your own master. 

You are an adult. You can do whatever the fuck you want.