Fencing in the Wensleydale

I have a friend Monique (not her real name) who has been in Overeaters Anonymous just a little bit longer than I, over 3 years. She is around 50, with a quiet yet enjoyably subversive sense of humour, which is probably why we get along so well. She was speaking at the 1 year “birthday” of another member last week. Fuzz brought me to the celebration, one of my first outings after my operation. My concentration was not so great because I couldn’t quite get comfortable in my chair, but one thing Monique said still sticks in my head. She said, “I can now have boundaries in my relationships, and I have boundaries in my food”.

Boundaries in relationships are so hard for me. I didn’t learn good ways to open up to people and yet keep myself safe. In my family, people didn’t have relationships, they took hostages. When I got into a relationship, I made myself a sacrifice to that relationship. My brain and needs went out the window. Generally, I would throw myself out into the world as much as I could stand in my best imitation of an extrovert, and then retreat and protect myself from all those scary people and feelings with a nice security blanket of food. Recently, I’ve been trying to change that pattern by working those 12 steps they talk about in all those programs, examining my behaviour in relationships. At the same time, I’ve had to develop healthy boundaries with my food.

For instance, cheese. I used to have a thing for cheese. It would call my name from its little chamber in the refrigerator. My parents always had a special cheese drawer in the fridge, it was so special, it needed its own throne room, the royalty of the refrigerator. Even the processed slices seemed special, in their little individual wrappings, handy for eating right from my hand, or plunking between buttered white bread for the ultimate in creamy, bland comfort. Ever notice the similarity between a cheese sandwich on white bread and a cozy, protective made bed? (Any doubt as to my sanity just went out the window, didn’t it?) Anything in blocks was lovingly shaved off in thin thin slices, again, and again, and again until a half pound would disappear in the space of an afternoon.

Because it was so tempting, I rarely bought cheese after starting OA, unless I had it planned for a special dish. It just seemed like more trouble than I needed. Then last December, I bought a panini press, and panini sandwiches seem to demand a bit of cheese to get kind of melty with other savoury ingredients. So I thought, hmm... would it be ok to have a little cheese in the house for it? Fuzz, being a normal eater, would enjoy it, but not devour the whole block.

Ok. Well... if I were to buy the cheese, what would keep it safer? How about some boundaries? Fence off the cheese? How about, I can have a measured amount, and only as part of a meal as opposed to for snacks? I tried it last week, bought a small block of very old cheddar and tried a ham sandwich with a scant 15 grams (about a half ounce) of the cheddar. It made a fine sandwich on some grainy bread with some hot mustard, and it seemed to work.

Weighing may seem extreme to some people, but for me, it’s the boundary that works. Just as I can have pasta if I measure it. I love pasta, but it’s too easy to go overboard on. If I can say, ok, I’m having 375 ml of spaghetti tonight, then the hard work is over, that’s the boundary drawn. Now, I’m not perfect about this. I often have an extra nibble while cooking, but I don’t sweat the nibble. I don’t need perfectionism to take over here. People nibble, as long as it doesn’t become an extra meal, it’s all right for me. But I'm not nibbling on the cheese. Thank God, I'm not a mouse!

That’s where I am today.