Defining 'Normal'

I was so proud of myself: I ate like a normal person.

When the waiter brought out the plate of food, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. It could have fed three people... and then some.

Not the best scenario for someone who has struggled with anorexia and bulimia in the past. I knew in that situation that I had three choices: I could eat too little and be starving in 30 minutes; eat too much and feel guilty for the rest of the night; or eat until I'm satisfied and join in on the "normal".

I chose to be normal.

Only it didn't really matter. As the waiter came around to pick up the plates, the person sitting next to me made the dreaded comment.

You know the one: "Is that all your eating? You barely touched your food!"

Thanks, dude.

The truth is, I ate a healthy portion... it was just different from everyone else sitting around me. Nevertheless, I beat myself up for days. I doubted in my judgement. I doubted in my recovery. I doubted in my normalcy.

Then it hit me: what is normal? If eating your entire meal (of which could feed THREE people) is normal, then do I really want to be normal? If being "normal" forces me to be unhealthy in the opposite extreme, is that really better?

No.

I have this theory: If we were to sit every person down and inspect their eating habits, I bet 99% of them would fall into the category of "disordered eating". I mean, look around you. People have some crazy eating habits.

One of my greatest challenges coming out of my eating disorder was figuring out what "normal eating" looked like. My eating habits had always been a little odd, even before the eating disorder. So how was I, a life-long "odd eater", supposed to balance food and freedom?

Good question.

Step One: Get a sticker chart... or a meal plan. When I first began seeing a dietician, I had no idea what a normal portion size looked like. And the food pyramid? Yeah, non-existent in my life.

Needless to say, all of that soon changed.

Working with a dietician steered me in my direction of "normal". Even though I kicked and screamed all the way to the appointments, the foundation was laid. I knew what a typical meal plan looked like... I just had to follow it.

For incentive, I bought some pretty awesome sparkly schoolgirl stickers to reward myself for sticking to my meal plan. It didn't take long for the meal boxes to get lost in the sea of sparkly goodness.

So if decorating your meal plan makes following it more appealing, by all means- go for it.

Step Two: No More Labels

Throw out your fancy-schmancy food labeler. It will be of no use to you at this point in your recovery. It's time to start over and look at food for what it really is: food. There is neither "good" food nor "bad" food... it's all just food. Once you live by this principle, "normal" will become, well, much more "normal".

Step Three: Remember That His Normal is Not Your Normal

Food Wars.

On my quest to figure out "normal", I fell into the trap of comparison. Every time I sat down to a meal, I would compare my food choices to everyone else. Depending on the person I was sitting with, I either lost or won at each meal.

Such was the case at dinner that night. I lost the war.

Or so I thought.

The truth is, I can't base my "normal" on somebody else's. The moment I follow someone else's rules for food is the moment I bind my hands in the chains of my eating disorder once again. It doesn't matter if my actions aren't typical of the eating disorder... if I am submitting to anyone's food rules, I am in bondage once again.

So what have I learned?

Only I can define what is normal for me. Only you can define what is normal for you.

And the moment we define it is the moment we relish the life of freedom.