How I Knew I Had to Quit Sugar and Flour

The one question people ask when I tell them I no longer eat sugar and flour is, "How did you know you had to quit? Wouldn't it be enough to just cut back?"

I understand. Moderation is what all the "experts" say is necessary to keep from feeling deprived. Moderation, they almost always say, is critical for weight-loss success.

And for someone in my situation, extreme measures didn't seem necessary. I was overweight -- more than just a little overweight -- but not obese on the healthy weight charts. I could still shop at department stores, and I didn't have diabetes.

But I did get to a point where I knew it was time to quit. How? Here's how I answer:

First of all, I had no idea whether or not quitting would "work." I still don't, not long-term. But I did know that after years of dieting and trying restraint and struggling to moderate, moderation didn't work. Not for me. I didn't know if quitting was actually necessary. But I was open to trying something new.

Even more than that, there were a lot of red flags that my behavior around sugar and flour wasn't normal. A lot of red flags. I can't point to one big incident of hitting rock bottom, but I do recall many little clues that built up over time. Here are the ones that come to mind:

1) You cannot "cut back" on sugar and flour long-term (you make a plan to eat sugar and flour only on one “cheat day” a week, you set a limit for how many treats you’ll eat, you eat these things only on special occasions — but none of that works consistently for the long term).

2) You cannot go one full day without eating sugar or flour. The thought of it is scary or unimaginable.

3) You wait until you're alone to eat sugar and flour (when you’re in the car, when someone else takes the dog out for a walk, etc.)

4) You hide wrappers and containers (in the car, in the bottom of the garbage can, etc.)

5) You hide extra food (in a special cabinet, above the refrigerator, in the garage, etc.)

6) You worry constantly about whether there was enough sugar and flour in the house (and whether others will eat it first)

7) You are constantly aware of sugar and flour at parties, receptions, get-togethers, and while there, you plan what and how much to have

8) You get upset when something disrupts your eating plans (when the dessert runs out before you get a piece, when the store doesn’t have the particular something you want)

9) You buy healthy food at the grocery store along with junk food so the clerk won't think you are only planning to eat the junk

10) You realize that these things are escalating

Anyone else have thoughts about the red flags that signaled to them it was time to live without sugar or without flour?

[This blog post was inspired by a June 2014 post from the sober blog "UnPickled" about living alcohol-free. You can read the original post HERE. ]

Failing to have squeaky clean days doesn't make you a failure

"Success is the ability to go from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm" -- Winston Churchill

I had a strong tendency early in my Bright Line Eating journey to view failure as complete.

I'd print out 100-day charts and put a gold star on every day when my lines were squeaky clean.

When I broke after day 5 or day 14 or whatever, I'd crumple up the chart and toss it. I’d failed. Again.

After starting and then tossing about ten 100-day charts, I stopped using charts. What's the point? It was just demoralizing to keep throwing them away and starting over.

But today I realized there's another way to think about it. Squeaky-clean days are to a food person what cigarette-free days are to a smoker trying to quit: That's the goal, but it’s hard to get on the first try. It takes most people some failure before they get there.

Think about this: The National Institute on Drug Abuses reports that relapse is common in drug addiction treatment, and estimates relapse rates to be between 40 and 60 percent.

Quitting cigarettes is just as hard. The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention says it takes 8 to 11 attempts for a smoker to successfully quite. The American Cancer Society suggests 8 to 10.

Anyone trying to quit addictive food behaviors -- that is, to get squeaky clean bright lines -- might find failure is as normal a part of their journey too. You might well have to experience some failure before you succeed.

That’s fine. You can learn something from every time you break a bright line. You can get right back onboard and keep going. What matters is THAT you keep going.

George Custer motto is a good one to remember: "It's not how many times you get knocked down that matters. It's how many times you stand back up."

Disclaimer: This site is not officially affiliated with Bright Line Eating or Susan Peirce Thompson. The opinions expressed here are entirely my own.

Nobody Wants to Quit

When caught in the cycle of relapse-resume-relapse-resume, one thought keeps popping up in my mind:

I’ll get back on board with Bright Line Eating when I really want to quit sugar and flour.

But here’s the thing. Nobody with food issues wants to quit sugar and flour. At least, nobody I’ve ever met. I have yet to meet a single person who adores those things who wakes up one morning and says, “you know, I just don't want to eat those things any more.”

What we want to get rid of are the consequences of eating sugar and flour and snacks. We want to get rid of the things sugar and flour do to us. The clothes that don’t fit. The bloated feeling. The avoidance of photos and swimsuits. Feeling sluggish and lethargic and not fitting into airplane seats and hating our bodies.

But the actual act of giving up sugar and flour? No one WANTS to do that.

So you can’t wait for motivation to strike you. It won’t.

There are plenty of ways a person with food issues can get support and motivation and enthusiasm to do BLE, and plenty of reasons why you should eat this way. But waiting for the desire to give up sugar and flour to magically hit you isn’t one of them.

When your brain tells you that you’ll do BLE when you really want to give up sugar and flour, just remind it that nobody wants to do that. It ain’t gonna happen. Do it anyway.

[Disclaimer: I am not affiliated in an official way with Bright Line Eating or Susan Peirce Thompson. The opinions in this blog are entirely my own.]

Just a Great Reminder

A little daily reminder, always inspiring: