I’ll Have the Whole Sleeve, Please

I long to be the type of person who can just eat one Oreo, but for me, it’s the whole sleeve.

The urge to snack sneaks up on us with absolutely no warning.  It’s hard to describe that urge.  But the minute the flood gates open, during a single episode of Modern Family, I can easily put back an extra 500 calories.

I have always envied the type of person who can eat one cookie and move on. Grab a Twizzler and get on with their day. Have one or two chips with a bowl of chili. And week after week at the grocery store I would convince myself that I could be that person; this would be the week I learned self control. So I would buy one or two of my favorite things hoping that each night just one bite would do the trick. It never did.

As each snack session came to a close & the whole sleeve or half bag was gone, I felt weak.  Worse, I was disappointed in myself for upholding my reputation of being the girl who always seemed to exceed the serving size.

One night after half a bag of Tostitos (Hint Of Lime flavor) I was feeling particularly angry at myself when it hit me… I will never be her. I will never be a single-serving kinda girl.

Yet, still in denial after the Tostito incident of 2013, I did what any rational 30-year-old woman does; placed blame on someone else. For me, it was my husband. After all, he brought home the irresistible, cantina-style, white grain tortilla with just the right amount of artificial lime flavoring.  Must be nice to be him, must be nice to never know what it’s like to feel fat, or bloated or out of control in the face of carbohydrates.

Resentment is a place none of us should visit frequently. More importantly, we shouldn’t drag our loved ones there because of our hang-ups.

When I sobered up and realized how irrational I was being, blaming my poor husband for what I had eaten, I did something that made me feel completely vulnerable. I asked my husband to hide the chips from me. If he wanted chips, cookies or candy in the house I didn’t want to know where they were. I felt embarrassed by this. My husband didn’t make me feel embarrassed in the slightest; he actually didn’t think twice about slipping the chips into a cabinet I couldn’t reach. But, I felt ashamed.  How pathetic am I that I am asking my husband to hide food from me? How weak am I? How helpless am I? Basically what kind of a freak am I? I still feel a pang of embarrassment even writing this.

But, that was the best thing I ever did.

The weeks following, when I had food hidden from me, I had time to think and reflect.  Although I thought not having the food in the house was the reason I felt more in control, it wasn’t. I felt more in control because I had admitted, out loud, to a person I love that I was powerless.  I accepted my weakness instead of trying to fight it alone.  Little did I know that insecurity of mine, the insecurity of labeling myself the entire sleeve of Oreo’s girl was seriously shaming me.  And that day, I shed the shame.

Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t sworn off Tostitos.  I haven’t sworn off Oreos.  Because remember, we don’t do the all or nothing thing here. And although I do admit it’s rare we have these types of foods in our house, it’s more than that. It’s understanding who you are and that sometimes you have to get out of your head.  When you take advantage of a support system, you might be surprised how your struggles dissolve and how much stronger you are then a sleeve of cookies.

2 thoughts on “I’ll Have the Whole Sleeve, Please

  1. Favorite on yet because I relate to it oohhhhh so well!! The creator of Pringles is a genius…you can’t just have one! Love you and your inspiration!

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