From skwigg's journal:
You describe it beautifully! That is definitely a thing. You get all anxious about stopping, so you don't fully experience the moment or the joy of eating the food. It's not satisfying because your mind is elsewhere, so you keep munching, both to chase the satisfaction you're not feeling and to avoid the dreaded stopping point.
I don't have that problem anymore. In no particular order, here are the steps I took to solve it:
- I decide on my portion in the moment when I'm about to start eating. When that portion is gone, I'm done eating. That allows me to fully focus on what I'm eating right now and totally avoid the storytelling and bargaining that goes on if the stopping point is a moving target. It's not about restriction or portion control, it's about being kind to my brain. It gets upset when there is uncertainty and endless decisions to be made. It relaxes if it knows. (Note: As an intuitive eater, I don't predecide portions anymore. I'm happy to see how I feel as the meal progresses. I had to learn how to do that though. Predeciding was one step in the journey.)
- I remind myself that I am always free to eat anything I want, any time I want, and as much as I want. For now, I choose to stop at one piece of pie, but I can always have more later, or tomorrow, or the next day. Pie is not going away. Making this your reality is really important. If you say the words but don't believe them, in fact believe you may start that juice fast this weekend, the whole thing no worky. An abundance mindset solves that crazy "now's my chance" eating.
- I eat in a way that feels good and makes me proud. I do not like being painfully stuffed, grossed out, and disappointed. That's the inevitable outcome when you check out while eating, or keep eating because you don't want it to end. There are other much more enjoyable options, like deliberately stopping when you're pleasantly full, knowing you can always have more another time.
- I acknowledge the amazing, fun, awesome benefits to STOPPING eating. I don't think of it as difficult and sad. Not at all. Stopping is how I get to have ice cream *and* abs, buttercream frosting *and* self-respect, nachos *and* clothes that fit. I don't have to choose between restriction and overconsumption, or between having a lean body and enjoying favorite foods. I can have it all if I embrace both the mindful eating and the stopping.
- It's amazing to fully googly-eyed savor something delicious, and to still feel fit, comfortable, and confident when you're done. Overeating in a sad bingey way ruins it. I stop eating not because I "should" or because of any restrictions, but because I've thoroughly experienced the food and I'm ready to move on with my day feeling great.
- I often end this meal by looking forward to the next one. No sad, crazy stories of restriction. I think things like, "That big bowl of cereal and fruit will be so good in the morning." Or, "I'll have more ice cream after dinner." Normally, I'm actually physically hungry when I eat, and that's something I really enjoy. So, it's a no brainer to remind myself that I can eat again later, and that the food will be that much more enjoyable if I'm hungry for it. Shoveling more in when I'm already full is not so fun.
- One caveat about looking forward to meals, watch out for food romanticizing. There's a difference between, "I'm looking forward to dessert tonight." And, "I will have the most wonderful sundae with four kinds of ice cream, and cookies, and sprinkles, and hot fudge, and there will be unicorns and rainbows, and all of life's problems will melt away." Ok, nothing can live up to that. You don't want to obsess and build it up in your mind to the point that you're going to be devastated if the cookies are dry or they're out of sprinkles. I used to use romanticizing about some future meal as a means of coping with restriction now. Cheat day, anyone? That was a suckfest. Too much emotional drama. Now, I enjoy every meal to a similar degree without the highs and lows. I still look forward to dinner though, and that helps me end lunch.
Slowing down when you eat is such an important part of registering fullness and satisfaction. I can't feel anything in a 10 minute meal except rushed, stressed, and moderately ill afterward. I have come to hate eating that fast. It's like you blink and you miss it. Most of my everyday meals take 20-40 minutes. A restaurant meal with a lot of conversation may take over an hour. I often eat in courses and pause between them. For me, stretching a meal out to an appropriate length often requires some kind of distraction, or at least fiddling with my food. At breakfast, I'll eat my bowl of cereal somewhat slowly while reading email and news headlines. When it's gone, I'll continue texting and watching cat videos or whatever for another 10-15 minutes. Then I'll get my yogurt and savor that too. If I were eating quickly with no pauses, distractions, or checking in, I could finish that meal in 5 minutes, eat a whole lot more than necessary, and head out to walk the dog feeling like there was a big rock in my stomach. Slowing down, I've noticed that there's too much cereal in my jumbo coffee mug when I fill it all the way to the top. I'm happier when it's maybe an inch below the rim, with plenty of nuts, seeds, berries and not so much bran. I'm not into full fat Greek yogurt anymore and often can't finish the whole container. I don't want it all. This blew my mind! I bought some lower fat regular yogurt to try this week.Â
I have other little quirks like sorting my M&Ms by size and color, sorting my almonds by size, shape, and amount of magical sriracha dust, or eating the cherry tomatoes or strawberries smallest to largest/ripest. At lunch, I'll often have a veggie course consisting of a green smoothie, a big salad, or carrots and guacamole for dipping. I'll sit down with that, eat or drink it all slowly, and then get up to make the main course, a sandwich, turkey and crackers, an omelet, leftovers, whatever it is. I'll sit down and eat that rather slowly while watching TV, looking at my computer, or talking to my husband. Then I get up and make the dessert course, which might be like 8 M&Ms, one Reese's heart, and one square of milk chocolate. I'll sit down and sort my M&Ms like a normal person (LOL), paying attention to each one, unwrapping the Reese's, letting the milk chocolate melt in my mouth. The whole meal takes at least half an hour and the satisfaction fully registers. I remember hearing that it takes at least 20 minutes for fullness to begin to register. I don't know if that's scientific fact, but it's sure true for my stomach and brain. If I'm still eating after 20 minutes, I can tell where I stand on the fullness scale. If I'm done in 8 minutes, I may finish and still want more, but then 15 minutes later I'll be uncomfortable and regret the decision.Â
I'm not a nut about this though. As a busy person with a job, sometimes I have to eat standing up while on the phone, or eat in ten minutes so I'm not late, or NOT sort the pistachios by how far the shell is open. :-) That's ok. It's what I do most of the time that matters. Most of the time I find it worthwhile to allow at least 30 minutes for any meal. A snack is somewhat of an exception. Skilled as I am at doodling around and playing with my food, even I can't make one small piece of pizza and little pile of pretzels last more than 10 minutes. But I do know that if I stop eating with what I initially served myself, I'll still be hungry for dinner in a couple of hours. If I keep grazing, I won't.Â
I'm genuinely curious how long most people spend with a meal and how the duration is working for you. I feel like slowing down was THE missing piece that finally allowed me to experience levels of fullness and to register not just satisfaction, but whether I even liked what I was eating. Coming out of restriction, I know I ate like a starving animal, very quickly, and definitely willing to attack if you touch me while I'm eating or reach for my food. LOL I really needed to take a breath, put the fork down, and recognize that the food wasn't going anywhere. There will always be more. No need to gorge myself or drag my kill up a tree. Primal hunger felt like that though!Â