“One of my first encounters with this perception that food could be addictive was early in my career. An acquaintance of mine had struggled with the belief that she couldn’t be trusted with certain types of foods. As such, she innocently thought not allowing these foods in her home would help her son develop a healthier relationship with the foods than she had. As her son grew older, however, I witnessed him sneak and frantically eat these foods when his parents weren’t around. The efforts to restrain his eating and desire for those foods backfired. This was not an issue of food addiction. It was a case of restricted exposure.
This fear of so-called food addiction, for adults and children alike, makes sense in our crazed diet culture. Diet culture doesn’t just encroach on our gyms and social circles, it’s become an insidious and overlooked contributor to media, medicine and top-tier research institutions. When well-respected news outlets report on the “dangers” of eating sugar and Yale University creates a food addiction scale, the public listens.”
I can always spot a kid who is being raised in a food restricting house. They gorge on sweets (or any palatable food, really) as soon as they have the opportunity. They seem ashamed of their desires, often asking for seconds with a look of sadness, anticipating the “no” they have learned to expect. Or they take the food surreptitiously, trying not to be seen, eyes darting to the adults to see if they have been discovered. Others decline sweets or pizza or birthday cake, quoting some moralistic fears they have learned. But their hungry eyes betray them, silently observing their friends’ every bite.
It’s pretty sad. And achingly familiar.
Raising our kids to be intuitive, competent eaters has been one of the best decisions we ever made. It is as healing for us as it is for them. It is amazing to see how bodies naturally regulate hunger, fullness, and cravings when left to their own devices.