This story is not about gluttony. Nor about bingeing.
It is about being free.
It is about being allowing myself to be happy.
It is about giving to myself what I wanted at that moment.
It is about listening to the needs of my body.
It is about loving myself.
I don’t know what ice creams have. But when I visualise ice creams, I always see a smily face behind them, a dad helping his son to finish before it melts, beautiful summer days.
My relationship with ice creams is not easy. As a kid, I really didn’t like ice creams. I have never been a fan of dairy, and I could only tolerate those chemical pieces of ice full of sugar. When I was 11, I started devoting Magnums. Ice creams were only enjoyable if covered by a crunchy chocolate layer.
And then… then I felt sick. And I missed ice creams. A lot. Lucky me, the meal plan they gave had ice cream twice a week, and I never really gave up on it.
Since then, ice creams have been my little indulgence moments. I gave myself pleasure, but never too much. It was, sorry for the oxymoron, a controlled pleasure.
Today, as many Wednesdays, I prepared myself for the sacred ice cream date. I was feeling down for the day. But I was also determined to hunt some demons this evenings. I needed to go to bed with the satisfaction that today I had try to go a bit further in my path.
I wondered if I should let my hubby serve me. We decided I would feel even more proud if I did it myself. But he would be by me. And eat with me.
I usually have one scoop of the flavour seeming more appealing. We had two tubs in the fridge. How to K.O. some demons? Having double. One scoop of each. Seemed perfect. One of my favourite taste, one of some new mysterious flavor.
I had my supporter number one by me. I had the voices in the Slack group, where another warrior was experiencing exactly the same situation, and I had the invaluable voice of Vero.
“Remember Lidia. Listen to your body. Be curious and creative. Live the experience. Learn from it.”
We sat down. I let it melt for a while. I love observing this transformation. Change of shape, change of color, cultivating love for the food in front if me. Anticipating the pleasure of eating it. Visualising my face changing like those of little kids after they lick their cone for the first time.
Whoever wants to train mindful eating, I challenge you to do it with ice-cream!
It was finished. Fast, too fast.
“So how do you feel Lidia? That was good huh? Wait till Saturday, it will be waiting for you in the fridge.”, says, laughing, my ED voice.
“More, I want more. Just a few spoons more.”, replies my body.
I said it loud. I thought of Vero. I thought of the promises I have done to myself. I witnessed my virtual friend in the group,@iamames86, that dared to get more.
“I must trust my body, the most magnificent machine in the universe. It asks, I must give.”, recommended @firecracker.
“Ice cream freedom experience.”, said the same Italian little angel.
“Love Fat ice cream date”, replied the warrior @iamames86.
And there I went again. Opened the freezer again. Breathe. Serve another scoop of each.
I let it melt for another while. I loved again observing this transformation. Change of shape, change of color, cultivating new love for the food in front if me. Anticipating the repeated pleasure of eating it. Visualising my face changing like those of little kids after they lick their cone for the second time.
It tasted equally delicious. I discovered the thick creamy texture of the new flavour, that I didn’t notice before. I let my mind fly in the swirls of raspberry sauce. I landed in Thailand with the fruity mango taste. Turn for my favourite. Macha. Bitter sweet. I was a geisha. I was an empress. I was a warrior. I had conquered my mind, I had won a soul.
As I approached my last spoon, I was satisfied. But I have always been a gourmand, and so, despite my evil voice, and despite my body, I indulged myself with a last bite.
I gently put the remaining ice cream in my tongue. I let it rest there and closed my eyes. It was heavenly ice crystals releasing magic for me. I felt gratitude. I felt delight.
That was the taste of victory and the promise of freedom.
I asked myself again, this time, with a funny ironic voice:
“So how do you feel Lidia?”
“I feel satisfied. I couldn’t eat more. I don’t want a new flavor, because I love the bitterness of mach in my tongue. I don’t want more macha, because I know it now. Eating more won’t bring anything new. It is unveiled, present to me, now.”
Now, as I was writing this, my flatmate was cooking. It usually drives me crazy , she never closes the for, and a smell of old hot oil invades the living room space. I would usually feel a sudden increase of anxiety, anger, an urge to yell to her.
Today, as usual, I don’t like the smell, but my stomach doesn’t twists. I calmly go and close the door.
This must be inner peace. This is tolerance and acceptance. This is how my life can look like, from now on.
PS: Tomorrow will be a new day. Tomorrow I will be stronger remembering this breakthrough moment. There will be no place for restriction.
I will salute the sun, and eat breakfast, because tonight I am reaching the Yellow Moon.
“Ice-cream is exquisite – what a pity it isn’t illegal.”
This post is for @iamames86 in gratitude for her courage.
This experience is for my guide, who gave me the confidence to try, at least once, mindful eating, and who just proved to be right. Thank your for your support, your advice, your faith in me, Vero.