Thinking Like a "Thin" Person

In relation to a recent poster's fears of what "thin life" would be like and a statement in Andrea's journey featured on the home page today, I started thinking. Andrea writes, "Learning to train my brain to think like a skinny person, not a fat person has been the biggest obstacle."

This reminds me of a brief moment in Vegas last week. As I have discussed before, post surgery, I am keenly aware of the types of food available in our culture and how much comes on a plate (and of course how much many people eat---which I know---I've been told---should not concern me).
One afternoon in Vegas, we stopped for a "quick bite." There were no appropriate appetizers on the menu, and rather than order a whole meal, I opted to just eat a few bites from my husband's plate. Of course, I couldn't help watching the couple seated directly in my line of sight, both in good shape. Their plates were delivered, loaded with enormous burgers piled high and sides overflowing. The young girl dug in with gusto. But then I noticed that she ate only about a fourth of her burger and a few of her fries and left the rest. I like to imagine that she felt no guilt about leaving all of that food that she didn't need, and I thought, this must be how thin people think.

One of my greatest challenges has been to order what I want because I don't want to leave a plate mostly full of food sitting there, wasted. Of course, in a regular scenario, I can take it home for leftovers, but not so easy when traveling or hanging out in Vegas (our room had no frig or microwave). Being born "fat" and growing up "fat" naturally I have always thought about food the way a "fat" person thinks about food. I agree with Andrea's statement: After ten years of working on this weight loss thing (in earnest), I still need to relearn how to think about food, mostly in a social and public setting.
It's a real challenge? How have all of you handled this retraining of the brain??

Watching how thin people eat when I was newly post-op was a revelation to me. I had NO IDEA that this was how people ate. And, sure, the thin people I know splurge from time to time, but it's actually in "moderation." Like.. real moderation. Not my screwed up SMO concept of moderation.

For me it was all about quality versus quantity. Being SMO pre-op, it was always about how much food I could eat. After surgery, I was committed to viewing food for it's quality. I think the other thing is to stop having a "diet" mentality. Since I had the DS, I primarily focus on protein and definitely do not focus on calories, fat, etc. (the things that made me fat) so I never use the word "diet". I've also learned about moderation. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is off limits. If I want something, I have it, but I've learned that its OK to have one or two bites of anything.

It is definitely a learning experience. I'm 14+ years post-op, but I'm still learning.

Janet, I am also leaning toward the "just take a bite" approach to alleviating deprivation syndrome, which is extremely destructive for me. A doctor had my mother put me on a diet of one bottle per day when I was about a month old, and then, of course, there are the memorable years of having foods withheld from me, so I have to address that deeply ingrained issue. Breaking out of "the diet mentality" is difficult. Being allergic to wheat and understanding what an excess of sugar and refined carbs does to my body helps. I want to avoid those types of foods because they make me sick, though I will take a bite of a dessert if I feel deprived in its presence. One bite doesn't make me sick. For me, the key is to learn to not "need" those things every single day and to allow a bite on special occasions, and I'm in a pretty good place with that. Others warn me based on their personal experiences, but this is the way I need to do it now. It's working OK. It is part of learning to think thin.

The two biggest lessons I have learned (and re-learn regularly) are: Food is fuel not fun, Food can still be enjoyable when not excessive.

My pre-WLS brain thought of food as a hobby really. Food was a constant source of pleasure and fun. Social engagements nearly all revolved around food. Planning a get-together? First task...what are we eating? Who is cooking what? Are we eating out? Literally trying to get together with friends without it being food centered has been a huge challenge.

My pre-WLS brain would not have been super excited to have 2 Oreos. Two? Who eats JUST 2 Oreos?? Madmen, that's who! One packet of Oatmeal for breakfast??? Who ever thought that size was enough? Not me! I would always rip open two packets at a time....3 if I was hungry. I rarely took left overs home from a restaurant. I believed, "I tastes best fresh...don't want to waste." Now...two Oreos is delicious. The temptation to eat more is lurking sure...but just two is crazy yummy. Now...I see people eating huge plates of food and it makes me nauseous and sad for them. I can't even imagine trying to eat that much now.

My brain has changed a ton. I don't think I will have a "thin person's brain" ever but I am learning what it takes to be healthier with my food choices. I think thin people brains let them eat and then stop at the healthy point of 'enough' without much thought. I still measure out and prep things...I think I will always need to do that.

~E

Food as a hobby! That cracks me up, and I get it.

Measuring is necessary for me, and that is one problem I have when eating out. Everything is "too much."
I also nearly choke when I watch my husband take a bite as large as what my entire meal will be, or see him eat two heaping plates of food (and then go take a nap because he is too full). I am reveling in the ability to STOP eating when I am full. I have to admit, sometimes I am sad that I can't eat more of something that tastes so good. I recall one time years ago (when I had my band) saying, "Oh, this is so good, I just want to keep eating, but I can't." My sister gave me the weirdest look, like, why on earth would I want to continue to eat after I was full! Just as she could not understand my mental need to consume it all, I could not understand how she could walk away from good food. With my new pouch, it is much easier to understand because I simply can't eat more. But I still think the food should be eaten.

Part of this is that my husband suffers PTSD from military deployment and a huge issue for him is deprivation. He literally panics if it looks like we are close to running out of something he needs or wants on a whim. We have four freezers and a few overstocked storage spaces and the fridge is always far too full. Much food goes to waste because of course, he can't eat it all, and I am now less help in that department. Trying to manage the fridge overflow bothers me. One more issue to work on!

I have learned so much about myself over the last 18 months - both physically and mentally. While I woud not say that I have any sort of official, or diagnosed eating disorder, food was/is a huge part of my life. More so than I ever realized. Eating is something that I derive great pleasure out of - therefore I like to do it. A lot.

I found that switching to a completely different way of eating was actually very simple for me. The biggest change was really setting aside the time for making sure I am always prepared, other than that I found no challenges. I absolutely LOVE the food that I eat on my new way of eating, and since I have to mindfully prepare for it, I eat nothing but delicious and nutritious foods. Often before, I ate a ton of crappy food that didn't even always taste the best, but it was convenient.

What I have discovered, and to be honest it kind of surprised me, is how much/often I want to eat, just for the pure joy of eating. And I have struggled with that. My head likes to tell me I'm hungry every couple of hours and I have had a hard time learning to control that. I have worked with my therapist trying out a lot of different tactics to try and overcome my "head hunger".

What I have found recently that has been working very well for me is simply the mantra of "hunger is not an emergency". I say this to myself literally dozens and dozens of times a day. This works far better than any other tactic that I tried, and I think it's mostly because I am not trying to deny the hunger (even though it most often isn't real), or even setting a clock on it (I had tried methods where I would wait 30 minutes, but that was just a waiting game that often caused me to be more obsessed by food). When I tell myself "hunger is not an emergency, and you will be having dinner in 3 hours, so deal with it" I find that I quickly realize I'm not actually hungry at all. In fact, the more I do this the more I realize I am actually rarely hungry at all. In fact, I'm not sure I am ever really, truly hungry. Which is so at odds with what my mind is telling me - which is that I am ALWAYS hungry!

Anyway, that's kind of a rambling mess of what goes through my head on a daily/hourly basis. But it has been very enlightening to be mindful of these things and to learn more and more about myself.

I'm pretty confident thin people do not have these types of internal conversations with themselves!

HA Jester! I wonder if some do have such internal monologues about food?? Everyone's experience is so different. As hypoglycemic, for me, being hungry can be an emergency, which is now complicated by the fact that I never really feel hungry and whereas I was never hungry in the mornings, now I am even more repulsed by the idea of eating anything in the morning. Now, instead of being plagued by thoughts of eating too often or too much, I am plagued by thoughts that I am not eating often enough or getting in enough protein. I still have to pull myself away from slider foods because they go down more easily and provide that sense that I've actually eaten "a meal."
As I say, I was put on a diet as an infant, and my mother tried to force diets throughout my entire life at home. Every meal at the table was an exercise in trauma and to compensate I ate in private, a habit which continues to this day. I actually hate sitting down at a table with other people to eat. Much prefer to eat privately, which of course is dangerous.
I will have to pay more attention to my internal monologue about food and write it down.
Here is what amazes me: My mother is battling COPD and is rapidly losing the ability to do things for herself. She absolutely REFUSES to fix herself a meal---and she is still quite capable. She snacks constantly, and her loudest complaint is that no-one is feeding her. I may have to return to therapy to work through that layer of my food issues. I always knew she had problems feeding me. I didn't know she has a problem feeding herself---basically, she resents having to care for herself in any way. Man. Now I have to work on this.

The mind is a crazy thing, huh?!?!

Reading your response makes me realize how much further I have to go. I literally said "I'm pretty confident thin people do not have these types of internal conversations with themselves!", to which you replied "I wonder if some do have such internal monologues about food??". That's when it hit me - I AM a thin person, LOL. So clearly, SOME thin people have these thoughts. Sheesh. Will it ever be natural to think of myself as a "thin person"?

I have developed reactive hypoglycemia. I am thankful for the "reactive" part for two reasons. One - it is a real deterrent to eating food I shouldn't eat. Two - I would hate to have to worry about feeling like that all the time, it really is a horrible feeling. At least when I experience it, it's self inflicted and I have no one to blame but myself (or the server/worker than serves me sugar even though I order sugar free. This has happened to me on several occasions!).

HA! You ARE a thin person! Maybe what we mean is native to thinness? Or thin-minded? You have just confirmed why I am going to stop trusting waitstaff to bring me gluten-free or sugar-free anything. Many don't know the difference! Personally, I just want to stop eating out altogether. Like you said, anything we can make at home is much better than what we can get in a restaurant.