So I’m Eating Meat Again: A Cautionary Tale of the Rules We Place on Ourselves

Jail-Bars-and-Hands

So I was vegetarian for a while. And for a while it worked…until it didn’t, or rather, I didn’t. This isn’t going to be one of those posts that tries to debunk the value of a vegetarian diet (sorry, carnivores, I know you love to find those stories online). I think they’re great and work quite well. I was the issue, not the tenets of a vegetarian diet.

My problem wasn’t that I suddenly became anemic or suddenly found myself spending inordinate amounts of time in my city’s hipster neighborhood. Rather, putting myself on a vegetarian diet triggered me back into restrictive/disordered eating patterns that I’ve had off and on since my teens. I’ve hinted at disordered eating and body image problems in other blog posts. I understand why those behaviors manifested in that way, I’m satisfied with my self-analysis, and I choose not to share it here.  Maybe in my book. 😉

Anyway, once I cut out meat, it was just too tempting to see where I could cut back further if not food types then at least the overall amount of food I was eating. I’d already lost a few pounds at the beginning of this year, mostly due to some still-unexplained gastrointestinal problems (Yes, I’m finally seeking treatment, which makes my mom happy). I was also struggling with some personal situations, and I chose to cope with that by restriction and controlling my weight.

O my brothers, you have no idea how the dopamine coursed through my little brain when I saw the numbers drop with the flattening of my waist and the growing looseness of my trousers. (I pretended not to notice the loss of muscle tone). Why, this was working even better than I imagined! I used my newly found vegetarianism to restrict even further. I’d found the perfect cover. Besides, I’ve never looked like someone with an eating disorder. No one would ever know.

This wasn’t a case of orthorexia, though. I wasn’t focused on “eating clean” or raw or only fresh produce or whatever. I just liked rules around eating. I’m a very organized person, which has served me quite well in the workplace, but rules and restriction and control taken to an extreme can be damaging. And since I made the rules I could carry them out in any way I saw fit.

By the end of my vegetarian experiment I was subsisting on junk food and very carefully counted out Saltines, which the latter, in my defense, were the only things my irritable stomach could tolerate sometimes. (In fact, today I had to settle on Saltines and plain Ramen noodles for dinner because my stomach decided once again to ruin my day.) My weight dropped to 110 pounds and occasionally below, which delighted that still lingering ED part of my brain, but the rational part figured I needed to nip that problem in the bud and go back to letting me eat pretty much whatever I wanted.

I realized I had a problem around April when I noticed that I was perfectly fine eating mashed potatoes and cake served at a commemorative banquet, but I sanctimoniously pawned off the steak and salmon that was also served. Granted, I would have axed the salmon anyway because I don’t eat fish at all (GROSS!!), but was I doing myself any favors by gobbling up potatoes and cake? It wasn’t even the nutritional deficiency or even the hypocrisy of my choice that got to me. It was my realization that I had very easily fallen prey to old patterns of control, frantic rationalization of unhealthy choices, and destructive self-consciousness that pushed me to release the rules I had placed on myself.

What rules and restrictions are keeping you in an unhealthy state of mind or body? Let’s step away from food for a moment. These rules could manifest in thoughts, behaviors, beliefs, or actions and may be your first line of defense against whatever is troubling you. You may place them upon any area of your life or in any relationship. Are you trying to be “perfect” so your partner will love you? (As if their love hinged on that). Are these rules created so you can live up to the expectations you created and projected onto someone else? Is it working?….you sure about that?

But are those rules ultimately serving you in the long term? Are you waiting for that magical person, situation, or thing to happen and only then allow yourself to be happy? Are you coping with a problem by punishing or controlling yourself? Do the rules soothe you in some way? Can you perhaps find that comfort in something else? Can you love and be gentle with yourself the way you are with other people you care about…would you at least consider it?

In late spring I started eating meat again along with a number of other foods. I let myself indulge. I gained a few pounds, but I attribute that more to dining out with friends and slacking off at the gym than adding meat back into my diet. I still think factory farming is horrible, and I do try to make mindful purchases of meat products. I just know I did the right thing for what my mind and body needed.

The thing about not restricting is that I don’t want to pig out on really…anything. Many people who restrict food or diet are afraid that giving up their rules means giving up hope of giving their bodies what they truly need. That hasn’t been the case. That Whataburger meal I promised myself over Labor Day weekend was awesome, and I don’t feel like having another one for a while. I also made a pork roast with homemade gnocchi and marinara sauce over that same holiday weekend. I put a lot of love and effort into the meal, an homage to my Italian heritage, and I was satisfied with a small amount (plus my body doesn’t like digesting pork so that’s an occasional thing anyway). I made the meal because I wanted to introduce a friend to my family’s traditions, not to “reward” myself for a workout or promise myself I’d eat carbs just this one time as a “cheat day.”

If you need more examples, how about these: I had a bag of Cheetos in a basket on top of my fridge that I completely forgot about, and I was annoyed that I still had a box of Pop-Tarts to finish after several weeks of seeing them on my kitchen counter. I would have been obsessing over those silly trigger foods back in my worst disordered eating days. The fact that I didn’t is a small but distinct point of progress for me.

Now I don’t think about food as much, and adding meat back into my diet helped kick-start a more balanced approach to how I chose to nourish myself. If I wanted to eat crappy food, I did, and I learned how to listen to what my body wanted. My body still gets mad and reacts unpleasantly to certain foods, and hopefully with the help of a doctor I can figure out what to avoid. My body likes fries and chocolate, but guess what? It also more often than not likes fresh fruit and vegetables, no guilt tripping necessary. I just wasn’t listening.

I’m still not where I thought I was at the end of last year, although I’m in a much better place than I was many years ago. I don’t know how long it will take me to break old habits or if I’ll ever be able to entirely, and I’m okay with that. I like being a few pounds lighter than I was a year ago. I like that a skirt that used to be too tight now fits just right.  I’m not getting rid of my digital scale that I step on just about every morning. I’m going to continue exercising because I like it, not to punish myself for imagined sins. Swimming, ballet barre, and taekwondo are fun! Moving my body has always been a joy rather than a chore for me, and lately my body is telling me it wants more so I’m listening.

I also know what will ultimately serve me best is a shift in focus away from judging myself by how I look (and how I foolishly assume other people are judging me by that) and how I choose to nourish myself. I look forward to the time when I give little to no judgement to what I’m eating. Being that self-centered all the time is exhausting.

It’s time to break some rules.

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To Lead or Not to Lead

leadership

Ugh, sorry, this is going to be a post full of corporate speak, in which I am unfortunately fluent. Consider yourself warned…

When I’m not moonlighting as a ninja I am an organizational development consultant. Lately a big part of my job has been dedicated to a program geared to develop high potential leaders for greater responsibilities and higher roles in the organization. It made me think about one’s potential to lead as well as one’s desire to lead. The opportunity to lead doesn’t and shouldn’t have to only reside in the workplace. In fact, those of us who don’t want to be leaders in our day jobs are sometimes surprised to find we have the potential to lead elsewhere.

During a casual conversation with my director a few weeks ago he asked me if I was still not interested in going into leadership. I’d made that comment during a team meeting a few years ago, and he wondered if I still had the same feelings. He and I are about the same age but have very different ambitions and chosen career paths.  Leadership suits him. For me it’s a different story.

“Yes I feel the same way,” I replied. “I’m very happy doing exactly what I’m doing—helping people learn and improve. I don’t want to be a manager, but I do want to be a black belt. That’s where I’m a leader.” I gave him a big confident smile as I rested the flat of my palms against the table.

Oh, I can hear you ask while wringing your hands, don’t I want to even try a leadership role? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do after following the lifescript of going to college then graduate school then joining the corporate ranks? Isn’t becoming a manager the only way to advance my career and do fulfilling work? As an educated, financially independent woman with good career history is it not my duty to America’s girls everywhere to lean in??

BIG OLE NOPE. It’s not like I’m some spring chicken fresh out of college who doesn’t know what they want yet. I know exactly what I want—I want to help people learn and develop and improve their lives and their happiness.  That’s it. I did that in my last career, I’m doing it in my current career, and I want to do the same thing in the future even if it’s an entirely different profession…just don’t make me be the manager. I don’t want to deal with budgets, managing people, or setting the company’s strategy. I’m not interested. Leadership isn’t for everyone, and I know I don’t have the talents, skills, or desire necessary to be successful in that role…and that’s perfectly okay. Having a leadership role is not and should not be the only marker of success in one’s professional life. Some people want to be the CEO. I would rather coach the CEO.

While I don’t want to be a leader in the corporate world it turns out my desires are different in the dojang.

From an OD perspective (and the very limited eyes of a color belt) I’ve observed how leaders are developed through the taekwondo ranks. It’s a mix of expectation and opportunity, and unlike some organizations that spring leadership on unsuspecting employees, our instructors start grooming us very early so by the time we reach higher ranks we’re not overwhelmed the first time we’re asked to lead drills or teach a form. Too often top performing individual contributors in the corporate world are “rewarded” with management jobs that they have had no preparation for, lack the propensity for it, and sometimes have no desire to be in that role but feel obligated to take it on since it may be (in their minds) the only way to advance.

In our taekwondo school it’s expected that you help out your fellow students, and the expectation becomes greater the higher you go in rank. Even if you’re only an orange or yellow belt you can help a white belt. I haven’t even reached first degree black belt and already I’ve been asked to take on little snippets of leadership: leading warm-ups and drills, coaching individuals or small groups, teaching techniques that I learned several belt ranks ago (with the underlying expectation that I remember EVERYTHING from white belt up), holding pads and coaching during kicking practice, refereeing during sparring, plus the everyday role of setting a good example by showing respect, being quiet and attentive, and working hard. I can just as easily be a positive influence to the young girls in my class when I confidently and aggressively kick the crap out of a focus pad (or another person, which is even more fun) as much as I could by climbing the corporate ladder.

As for the desire and potential to lead in the dojang, I don’t think it lies in every student, but it can be cultivated….as long as they’re willing to do the work. When leadership is forced upon someone unwilling or just not ready (in the corporate world, dojang, or anywhere else), the result can be disastrous.

I’m not sure why the inherent leadership in being an advanced color belt student and eventually a black belt is so appealing. I’m certainly not getting paid for it. It’s not an ego trip. I don’t feel a surge of power when I shush little kids waiting in line during drills. I can’t speak for my classmates, but once I got a taste of how good it feels to help another student I wanted more and more opportunities. Sometimes they’re given to me, and sometimes I look for them myself. The expectation of advanced students to help lower ranking students is so set in our little dojang culture that the instructors will get onto us if we don’t say anything helpful to lower ranking students during practice.

Just last night I found an opportunity to coach and lead. We were doing breaking practice, and I noticed one little boy who didn’t have anyone to hold a pad for him so he could practice. This little seven-year-old is typically sullen and never seems to want to do any work much less be in class. He looked listless and bored, so I grabbed a practice pad and had some one-on-one time with him. We spent a good ten to fifteen minutes working on his breaking technique, and the kid has a knack for flying snap kick. Who would have known? I coached him, praised him, gave him feedback, and even made him laugh a little. He got braver and wanted to try a jump spin kick, which is a very difficult kick for anyone at any age. By the end of the class he was beaming and out of breath from his hard work. That boy’s smile meant just as much to me as my successes and accolades in the workplace.

It’s never about showing off how smart or talented I think I am. I just love what I do and want to help others get better. My job as a black belt won’t necessarily be to have the highest kicks or to beat everyone at sparring. I will be expected to bring out the potential in others. Perhaps that is the essence of the cheesy corporate buzzword “servant leader.” In the case of taekwondo, it actually means something.