Vegetarian, Paleo, gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free. There are countless different “ways” to eat. Food has gone beyond being a source of nourishment; now there are entire diet-specific subcultures that have lodged their way into the fibres of society.
How we eat has become a tool to outline our very identities. Everyone has a friend who decides they’re going to “eat clean,” or someone on their Instagram feed who posts photos of meals from the “Whole 30” diet.
Food, for many, has become a religion. It not only defines, but also controls a vast majority of individuals’ lifestyles.
Several years ago, one of my college roommates decided to become a vegan. Her endeavor was innocent, even inspiring at first. She went against the grain of fleeting, fad diets, and transitioned into a sustainable, holistic way of living.
After the first few months of her new lifestyle choice, what was once a charming, environmentally friendly eating habit turned into an overwhelming obsession. It was virtually impossible to have a conversation with her without talking about veganism. Soon, her car donned “Go Vegan” bumper stickers, and she only made friends with other vegans.
Veganism consumed her. It controlled her.
It defined her.
And here’s the irony: after about a year and a half of devout rejection of animal byproducts, she called it quits. In her words, she “outgrew” her passionate pursuit and reverted back to ingesting and even enjoying the once-forbidden slice of cheese, or even … gasp … a hamburger.
When people look to food as a source of identity, eventually, like most substances, it can no longer provide the support and satisfaction they are looking for.
I am the first one to admit my guilt: I use food to define me. Since puberty I have had a love/hate relationship with cuisine. I joke that my love language is food and how I will marry the first man I meet who has the spiritual gift of cooking. But I seriously love food. Pizza, sushi, cheesecake, avocados, and feta cheese — I have definitely found myself living to eat, rather than eating to live.
Yet nearly every time I enjoy a freshly, baked chocolate chip cookie or a bowl of macaroni and cheese, an overpowering, uncontrollable sense of regret and self-deprecation overcomes me.
“OK, you ate something fried today. Now you HAVE to run at least six kilometres tomorrow….” When you worship something, you become enslaved to it. No longer can you enjoy simple pleasures free of guilt and condemnation.
It entices you, entrances you, and as soon as you give in, what you once thought was harmless turns and strangles you. It takes you down a dark road of disgust and reminds you constantly of your inadequacy and imperfection.
In a society of more is more, it’s nearly impossible to find a sense of balance. We need to return to the notion of eating to live, rather than living to eat. We need to learn how to take care of our bodies by providing it the nutrients they need to perform, without going the opposite direction and spiraling into the black hole of eating disorders.
Balance may possibly be one of the most difficult things to achieve. However, it is quintessential to living a productive, healthy, and fulfilled life.
So today, let’s stop worshipping the golden calf otherwise known as food. And let’s start enjoying our french fries, carrot juice, or soy latte, knowing there is truly more out there than existing to eat.
