For a decent portion of my life, I’ve had a tumultuous relationship with food.

From extremely picky eating and food dye allergies as a child to culinary adventures and fervent attempts at “intuitive eating” throughout my adult years, food and I have long shared a power struggle.

The thing is, though, at its core, food is just fuel.

Sure, it’s not only fuel. Food can represent pleasure, community, comfort, gift-giving, and occasionally medicine, but those carrots, grains of rice, slices of bread, brownie crumbs, clusters of grapes, chewy oven-baked cookies, and lean pieces of chicken?

They are literally just fuel to nourish our bodies and keep us alive.

So why on earth does food have such power over many of us?

Food Isn’t a Feeling

For much of my life, I’ve been afraid of feelings.

That sounds silly, but it’s true. I’ve been afraid to deeply immerse myself in my feelings—be they feelings of sadness, anxiety, criticism, or even joy—so I do what so many of us have come to know as second nature: I push them down and away or numb them.

My solution to discomfort is not to pull that blanket of suffering tightly around my shoulders and wait it out—it’s to toss that blanket aside and distract myself.

Sometimes I find healthy distractions (exercise, writing, talking to friends/family, or having a dance party to Disney tunes), but other times I turn to less healthy distractions.

That’s when things become a problem.

Lately, for reasons not entirely known to me at present, I’ve been turning to food as a tool for distraction and comfort.

I’ve come home from work—not excessively hungry because I’ve eaten well-rounded meals—and stuffed my face with my son’s goldfish crackers or candy.

I’ve had moments of frustration at my job and “treated” myself to a second pastry—not because I truly wanted another piece, but as an effort to numb my anger and “eat my feelings.”

Recently my office was given a box of cookies and baked goods as a simple “thank you,” and I felt an overwhelming desire to hoard them or eat them all (of course I didn’t, but I wanted to). My anxiety surrounding that box of cookies was palpable, and as I ate my single cookie (with chunks of chocolate + sea salt…perfection!), I felt immense guilt and disgust at myself.

What is this and why now?

Well, it’s avoidance.

It’s that attempt to numb. Distract. Deny temporary discomfort.

It’s human—it’s something we all do—but it’s not helpful.

Instead, when I am confronted with negative emotions, I first need to recognize them and allow myself to feel them.

I need to analyze the situation and understand why those feelings came about. Was it really the cookie that triggered my anxiety or was it some deeper fear or judgment about myself?

And lastly, I need to take a deep, long look at what those feelings mean (both in my perceptions and in reality) and what I can do to learn from them and move forward in a positive, life-affirming way.

And I can’t do that simply by distracting myself with food.

Let me make it clear, I am not demonizing food.

Sometimes a treat is just what we need! Especially if it’s shared with our loved ones or savored to the last morsel.

Sometimes we have a taste for something salty or sweet or a true hunger for nourishment and energy, and we owe it to ourselves to fuel our minds and bodies with what we need in that moment.

Usually, though, when we feel the need to binge or “eat our feelings,” it’s because we are experiencing something deeply and painfully human that must be brought to the surface.

Let’s do ourselves a favor and let those feelings rise. When we do, we’ll emerge stronger and more prepared to tackle the obstacles in our paths. And who doesn’t want that?

Food can be many things, but it it's never a feeling Share on X

[linking up with Amanda for thinking out loud]

So tell me…

• Do you find yourself turning to food in moments of stress/anger/discomfort?
• How do you train yourself to truly feel your feelings?