My food police diary

“You better watch what she eats” the doctor said to my mom, “She weighs more than she should at her age”. 

My mom nodded and looked at my belly. 

It was 1973, the year of Watergate, Roe vs Wade, the ribbon cutting of the world trade center, and the Carly Simons song ‘Your so Vain” played on the radio

This was the year the Food & Diet Police were hired at my home just for me. 

They:

• ·      Watched the foods I put on my plate
• ·      Listened closely for the refrigerator door to open or the candy dish lid to be lifted
• ·      Allowed me only certain foods
• ·      Let me know that “Only your brother can eat that, you cannot”
• ·      Asked me, “How could you be hungry?  You just ate “
• ·      Told me to “Go outside and play, its too early for a snack”

During this time I noticed a steady stream of thoughts and questions that circled around in my brain.

How can I lose weight?

How much more am I going to have to exercise?

What if I can’t lose weight?

Which led to more pressure and more negative thoughts and more obsessiveness to obey the food police.  I felt this drive to keep striving for the approval of my parents, my peers and society.

100% of my time and effort was consumed by keeping my weight in check, keeping up this false idea of what I should look like and striving for this idealized vision of perfection.  I said no to party’s, vacations and invitations to experience life.  The gym became my best friend. I became lost in my compulsion to succeed.

This landed me in the hospital for anorexia nervosa and in the care of multiple psychologists.  It is no wonder I have struggled with food and my body for the last 40+ years. 

It was only when my knee began breaking down that I finally noticed what my body was telling me… I was tired, drained, lacking energy, empty and exhausted. This was the moment I finally realized that it didn’t matter how much time, energy and focus I spent on trying to have the perfect body, meet society’s thin ideal or gain my parent’s acceptance, it was not worth it. 

I knew I had to start listening and respecting my body and it’s needs and fire the food police once and for all.

Click here to grab your free YOU ARE ENOUGH Finally, Free, Fit and Fabulous 5 step guide to peace with food, eating, weight and body image. 

3 Strikes

It was the ultimatum..."If you want to try out for the soccer team, you must hold at 110 pounds...end of story!" was what my dad had instructed.

That was what finally did it.  Somehow, with lots of adolescent growth, I finally found my place on the soccer field.  Playing through high school and most of college.

It was my junior year at Plymouth State. Our record was good, Big game day at Boston College, on the astro-turf.  I didn't have any turf shoes, so I decided on sneakers, they seemed to give me more traction than my cleats.  I played sweeper, the last line of defense. 

It was a close game, we were up 1-0, with about 20 minutes to go.  BC had a breakaway down the left sideline.  I was angeling back at full speed to support the Right Back....YES!  Our back beat her to the ball, and passed it quickly up field.  I stopped short, cut and turned up field.

POP, CRACK....THUD...down I went in a heap, pain shooting through my left leg.  Apparently every part of my body turned accept my left foot...stuck in place facing the wrong way on the turf.

Little did I know that would be the last competitive soccer game I would ever play.

April 1984, ACL Replacement Surgery.  My rehab took place in a Gym, right next door to the aerobic studio (think Jane Fonda era) in Danvers, Mass.  My future awaited me.

I stood on the side line my senior year and co-captained the team to an ECAC championship, unable to play.  Yet by winter I was able to start taking aerobics classes at the old gym at Plymouth.  I fell in love with the movement, music and sweat.  This was where I belonged.  I have been teaching aerobics ever since.  30 years now.  No wonder that left knee has had it.

I am scheduled for Knee Replacement Surgery on Monday, January 12.

It has been a struggle the last few years.  I continued to ignore the pain, until my right knee and hip began to object very loudly, because they were doing all the work.

A little over a year ago, I went for a second opinion...the first one was unacceptable to me.  "You can swim, and do the elliptical, you dont have to teach classes".  Ya...Right, maybe for you...not me.

The new doc gave me 4 options...
Heel wedge- Strike one; Orthovisc Shots- Strike two; High Tibialostomy- Strike three. Joint Replacement? You are UP!

I am happy and excited to get my new knee.  I am ready to respect my body and its limits, willing to make adjustments... I am not ready to give up the love I have for teaching group exercise classes.  Not for a long time yet.

There have been many years of my life that I have depended on exercise to get me through.  It has shut out pain, medicated my emotions, fueled my soul.  I am grateful for how it has helped me. 

Here is to my next chapter: Exercise for increased Joy, Health, and Growing Relationships...

Watch for upcoming posts...

-Conflict Comparison

-Divorce RX: Running to or away

-Exercise Friendships: the ones that really workout

Just the way I am!

I am 12 years old wearing only a pair of underwear. My mother is making me stand in front of a mirror.  I am mortified.

She asks me what I see...I roll my eyes, pinch the skin on my belly and say ,"I see fat and frumpy,  Happy?"

She sees frail and fragile, hears my sarcasm and is frightened.

We are both looking at the same thing...my almost naked body, yet we see completely different things, have different emotions and think different thoughts

I am feeling awkward, angry, embarrassed and mixed up, while my mom is terrified and troubled.  She has been watching me slowly disappear in front of her eyes. Unsure if where to turn next.

Anorexia Nervosa was the diagnosis. Virtually unknown to most 1975.  

It took 3 years of counseling, a month in a hospital and lots of tears shed before the Poirier dinner table was not a war zone.

Food and exercise have been the coach and the quarterback throughout my life.  Calories counted, exercise logged, scale down=worthy and happy, scale up=depressed and ugly.

It has been only over the last few years that I have finally accepted and appreciated what my body has done for me.

It can throw like a boy, it played college sports, fought fires, climbed and repelled off ferris wheels, competed in body building shows, run marathons, delivered 2 babies naturally and twins via c-section, climbed mountains and swam in oceans....

What is on your BODY ACCOMPLISHMENT LIST?

My body has done amazing things...why have I hated it so much and treated it so poorly?  It is time for me to respect and love my body, JUST THE WAY IT IS! Perfect for me! 

Today is the day...isn't 88 just great?

Today is my moms 88th birthday.  How blessed I am to have both of my parents still here with me.  Her birthday falls the day after Christmas. When I was a kid, I made her wait until her birthday to open her presents.  She always wanted to(and now does!) to open them on Christmas day.  

You see, I have really just now started to get to know my parents.  

About 4 years ago I got divorced.  With my first marriage that lasted 17 years, I saw my parents a few times a year.  The standard holidays and occasional birthdays.  Visits were tense...my girls were young...and all I wanted to do was get through the visit smoothly.  I was always worried about what they were thinking.   Not only of me, but also about the behavior of my children and husband.

I met a man shortly after my divorce.  Certainly not my intention...but yet this man met my parents a month or so after we started dating.  That was the start of them getting their daughter back.  

I had been lost and had forgotten myself...it took this man for me to begin my journey back to myself....and because of this man I am ready to share my story "through the A's".  ADOPTION, ADDICTION, ANOREXIA, ACTIVITY and ACCEPTANCE.   Not necessarily in that order.  

This blog is about my journey toward forgiveness...acceptance and grace.  What better day to start than my moms birthday.