Childhood experiences and adult habits

Oof, I wasn't expecting so much of that article to resonate as much as it did. I know I still carry the effects of childhood trauma around food when it comes to eating at restaurants, but my primary childhood-trauma anxiety mostly revolves around having needs out loud where people can see. I get very anxious if there's even the slightest inconvenience, if we wait just a little too long for water/drinks/bread/whatever, if there's even a small problem with anyone's food, if something gets dropped or spilled by accident, for fear of someone I'm with having to make a scene about it. I eat very quickly once my food is served, because the traumatized child in my brain is convinced that the person I'm with might randomly fly off the handle and demand we leave immediately for any reason, so I'd better get this food in my belly quickfast and on the double or else it'll be wasted. That kind of thing.

edit to add: I'm 30 and married. "The person I'm with" is usually my husband, who is also 30 and even more conflict-averse than I am, and would rather slit his own throat with the provided butterknife than make a scene about even a legitimate problem with the food. He got a very obviously bad cut of meat once when we were out to breakfast with his dad, and he was completely prepared to just not eat it, and the ordeal of his dad flagging down the waitress to complain was literal torture for both of us. I think my eyes burned a hole in the table, I was staring at it so hard in an effort to will this to stop happening.

My mom suffered from hunger as a kid. We felt the effects of that for her lifetime. When we’d go grocery shopping it was common for her to have TWO baskets (the big ole 60’s style carts, mind you) towering with food. She’s open a loaf of bread for us to snack on as we went through the grocery store. She hid food, too. Heaven help us when the warehouse clubs came to be.

One time I realized my folks’ freezer was full of frost-bitten foods and meat that had expired as long as ten years ago. When I offered to clean it out, they nearly took my head off.

My brother was unable to communicate as a child, due to a disability. He would hover round the kitchen waiting for mealtime, race in, grab the best bits and lick them to establish dibs. Sometimes he’d grab several portions and then we’d be forced to eat them.

I could always tell when money was tight. Snacks became those awful store brand “butter cookies” with the holes in the middle, meat would become spam or canned salmon, and my beloved cherry preserve sandwiches would disappear from my lunch box, replaced by sodden, runny, homage blackberry jam sandwiches. When we were flush, it was Little Debbie’s, sandwich cookies, and ice milk (remember that?!)

We had so many issues when I was coming up, our issues had issues, which had little micro issues of their own.

All my habits I got from my parents.. food was used as a drug abd a weapon and a means of love. I was put on a diet at A very young age and was Given very negative messages regarding food and body image. I can’t tell you how much that has shaped me as an adult. I wasn’t even fat as a kid. My parents were food insecure from their upbringing and here I am trying to forget the shame and just be me

I'm right with @Nursegirl_jax and being introspective about my food habits with my 2.5 year old around. Likewise, I'm fortunate to never have had experienced food insecurity either but was definitely encouraged to clean my plate and finish my milk (guessing a 16oz glass, whole Vit D, of course). I often find myself grappling with not wanting food to go to waste while not forcing those same sorts of pressures on our son. What usually happens is I'll end up eating what he leaves on his plate as we clear the table. However, those food relationship issues are mild in comparison to the lasting impact to self-perception and self-identity being mild/moderately overweight as a child had on me. I always remember being on the doughy side growing up, had glasses and braces by age 7, got good grades so I really leaned into being a nerd. Being really into superheroes was also formative in terms of the type of physique I envied (and still envy, quite frankly) and it was demonstratively obvious I did not look the same way in the mirror as my heroes did on page and screen. I also liked and played sports, being chubbier and slower than some of my friends didn't help matters either. My mother, not really knowing how best to approach dietary improvements, opted to try and preserve as much of my mental health as she could by often consoling me with things like "some people are just built differently. And so I believed I was destined to just be dissatisfied with my physical appearance and an average (at best) athlete for most of adolescence. By accident I lost 30 lbs over a few months at 17, arriving at a healthy weight for really the first time, a range I've been able to stay within for the 15 years since. Those self-definitions of not being an "athlete" and/or not being a "workout" person were still hard to contend with into my 20s, though I was not satisfied with my body simply being "not fat". Coming to MFP allowed me to go from the higher end of normal BMI to the lower end, but still I was not really any happier with how I looked at 158 compared to 175. I dabbled with things like p90x but never really liked it, it was just what I perceived "normal" people did to get in shape. I didn't see myself as worthy of barbell training or traditional weightlifting; I wasn't the kind of person that went "to the gym". Any more I don't even remember what even convinced me to take the plunge and buy my first barbell set beyond it was on sale and we had plenty of cash and space to buy my own stuff. Now, six years later, I'm so happy I did as I'm stronger, healthier, and happier with my body than I've ever been. I still had to work through that identity crisis but being able to do so in the privacy of my own basement, and not at a public gym and contend with my social anxiety is probably the biggest reason I was able to persevere.