The first nutritionist I saw when I was 15 warned me straight away: “You’ll have to watch what you eat all your life, that’s it, don’t believe this diet will last two months only. If you then start eating any old how again, you’ll gain all your weight again.”
Verdict had been given, in terms of diet, I got life sentence.
Years passed, all health professionals told me the same. “You’ll have to WATCH what you eat all the time”
Watching what I eat.
I think I’ve said these words more than ten thousand times. “It’s fine, I manage to stay stable, I’m watching what I eat”. “If I watch what I eat, kilos don’t come back”. “Gosh, I’ve put on weight again, I must absolutely watch what I eat”.
Obviously, the negative variant works too “I haven’t really watched what I’ve been eating lately, my weight is a total mess”. Etc.
It took my meeting with doctor Zermati to understand that actually, watching what you eat is bad. It’s permanent control, the feeling of being imprisoned in healthy food constraints that systematically unleashed my compulsions as soon as I lower my guard.
With this therapy, for the first time I don’t feel this unlimited conviction, I don’t wait for the “end” of the diet, I don’t ask myself the fateful question of “stabilisation”.
Very simply because there won’t be any stabilisation. For the simple and good reason that there’s no diet.
I’m often being asked lately, here or in real life[1], how I will manage “after”.
I answer that there is no after. There is, overtime, I hope, my now at ease food way of live rendered banal.
Ok, put like this it sounds like Frédéric Lefebvre[2].
But I’m as categorical as I can be, I can live the years I have left with these eating habits. It has never been the case in my previous experiences, during which, pick and choose, I weighted each bread slice, cooked for breakfast so called proteins packed pancakes with a subtle taste of Smecta, or 40g of green beans, not one more, enlivened with half a tea spoon of rapeseed oil. Yummy.
This year, I’ve spent festive season enjoying foie gras, smoked salmon, chocolate and chestnut fondant, one of the things I prefer in this world. I’ve also happily skipped several lunches or dinners, without forcing myself, simply because my belly was full. Result: for the first time of my life1, I’ve lost one kilo and even a bit more during the past two weeks.
So yes, I can continue forever, because nothing will ever be forbidden anymore and I haven’t said the now banned sentence: “No thanks, I’m watching what I eat”
On the other hand, to my biggest surprise, I have refused several times truffles, chocolates and other sweets because no thank you, I’m not hungry anymore. And it’s my last word.
Edit: These sweets were sold during the Grand Palais funfair, and I haven’t even been tempted. Amazing.
