Hidden in the recesses of my cupboard, lies a shady secret. The rest of my kitchen contains a wealth of sparkly, glowy food that makes me feel great, but somehow this remnant of my overweight past still lurks around. It’s been a long time since I was fat. It’s been at least 6 years a man someone shouted out of his car window, “with an a*se like that, you need to run faster!”. It’s been ages since I’ve obsessed about the calorie count of what I eat. I don’t know why, but I just can’t seem to throw away that jar of hazelnut coffee creamer.
Hazelnut coffee creamer is my vice. It makes me feel tired, and grumpy but I still drink it. Why? Because it taste so damn delicious. It is everything I love in a flavour: silky, nutty, edgy, luxurious. Every sip is perfection. Like fake strawberry, it tastes nothing like the thing it’s supposed to resemble. I’m still in love with it though, I just don’t want to let it go. It has sat in my cupboard for over a year but it doesn’t expire due to the fact that it is so processed it is no longer actually a food.
I got home yesterday feeling really miffed. Work was feeling like a slog; it had been particularly hard to get the kids to school; I’d had the best intentions to go for a walk only to have to turn back because of the black ice. It was a no brainer to come home and make myself a cup of “the special” coffee.
As life coaches, Chi-Chi and I have antennae for words like “no-brainer”. I have to admit that was the effect the hazelnutty-stuff-that-has-never-seen-a-hazelnut had on me. The deliciousness overwhelmed my senses so much that I no longer had to think; afterwards I was left so lacklustre that any restlessness dissipated. All of the feelings I didn’t want to be feeling were that much harder to feel. They’d been drowned out by a worse feeling.
It’s taken me a long time to understand this process. Before, I would have thought I’d been rewarding myself for a difficult morning. I don’t think so any more. I think I was placating myself rather than treating myself to real pleasure. There was a bit of pleasure to start with for sure. So much so that I still haven’t binned the coffee creamer. The overall effect was about 80% dullness and 20% pleasure, which is just not up to my usual standards of greed.
Maybe I’m wrong but I think living in balance means including some things that unsettle me. My late grandfather used to say, “Everything in moderation - including moderation.” I like to think that being aware of the overall picture of how this food makes me feel, will keep these “moderation” episodes to a minimum. Later that day I took the time to make myself a delicious lunch – turkey meatballs, salad and rye bread so fresh it was chewy.
That’s when I realised that the difference between pleasure and placating is that pleasure is all about the process – the slower the better in many cases. True pleasure is an eyes-wide-open experience, when every moment becomes a symphony. Placating, on the other hand is a dampening down-switching off process. There’s something I don’t want to see and I shut it out for as long as I can.
My answer – for now- is to search for the holy grail of hazelnut creamers - one that is delicious and healthy. (If you find one please let me know!) In the meantime, I’m going to keep loving myself not only despite but because of my vices. Giving myself permission to experience real pleasure on a regular basis, despite slipping up sometimes. Accepting that I’m human. That, after all, is the main reason I don’t struggle with my weight anymore.
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