Not Another Diet!

I have spent a lot of my life on a diet.

Actually, I have spent a lot of my life on many diets.

Cut out carbs.

Eat more protein.

Don't eat fat.

Eat low fat.

Don't eat after 5pm.

Skip breakfast.

Definitely eat breakfast.

Count calories.

Don't count calories and count points instead.

Eat smaller portions.

Exercise more.

Have a “good” day and promise yourself you'll do even better tomorrow.

I've done versions of them all.

And every time, there was the hope that perhaps this would finally be the one.

There was always another diet

Looking back, it amazes me how much the advice changed.

One minute fat was the enemy. Then it was carbohydrates. Then it was sugar. Then we needed more protein. Then fasting arrived and suddenly when we ate became just as important as what we ate. There was always something to cut out, reduce, measure or control and I followed along, like so many people, I genuinely believed that if I could just find the right diet and stick to it properly that I'd finally get it right.

But, of course, when the diet didn't work, I didn't blame the diet.

I blamed myself.

I thought I hadn't been disciplined enough. I had eaten too much. I hadn't exercised enough. I'd “fallen off the wagon”. So what did I do?

I looked for another diet.

Monday was always coming

There was something reassuring about Monday.

Monday was the day to start again.

The weekend might have involved eating things I had decided I “shouldn't” eat, but that was okay because on Monday I would be good again.

I'd get organised.

I'd eat less.

I'd be more disciplined.

I'd get back in control.

Food became divided into good and bad, and somehow I became good or bad depending on what I ate. When I followed the rules, I felt successful. When I didn't, I felt guilty.

That's an enormous amount of power to give food.

And the rules kept changing

The strange thing about spending a lifetime dieting is that eventually you accumulate an extraordinary number of food rules.

Bread is bad.

Don't eat too much pasta.

Choose the lowest-fat option.

Don't snack.

Don't eat late at night.

Watch your portions.

Be careful with dessert.

If you've eaten too much, eat less tomorrow.

Exercise to make up for it.

Some of these messages are so ingrained that we don't even recognise them as diet rules anymore.

They just become the way we think we're supposed to eat.

And it can become very difficult to hear something much more basic underneath all that noise:

Am I hungry?

What I've learned

These days, as a dietitian, counsellor and eating disorder clinician, I look at all of this very differently.

Nutrition absolutely matters.

But nutrition is not the same thing as constantly restricting ourselves.

And health is not determined by how perfectly we eat.

I am far more interested in whether someone is eating regularly, getting enough nourishment, enjoying a variety of foods and able to participate in life without food occupying every waking thought.

Can you go out for dinner without checking the menu three days beforehand?

Can you eat a piece of cake because it's someone's birthday?

Can you have carbohydrates at dinner without feeling that you've done something wrong?

Can you eat because you're hungry even if the clock says you “shouldn't” be?

Can you enjoy food without needing to earn it first?

Those things matter too.

I don't want another diet

Perhaps this is where I've landed after all these years.

I don't want another set of rules.

I don't want to be told that carbohydrates are the problem this year and something else will be the problem next year.

I don't want food to be something that constantly needs to be controlled, compensated for or earned.

And I certainly don't want another generation growing up believing that the size of their body determines how well they are doing at life.

I still care deeply about nutrition.

But I also care about flexibility.

Enjoyment.

Connection.

Eating enough.

Being able to share food with other people.

And having space in our heads for things that have absolutely nothing to do with what we ate today. So after a lifetime of diets, perhaps the biggest thing I've learned is surprisingly simple:

I don't need another diet.

And maybe you don't either.