The Day I Stopped 'Dating' Food

A Perspective on Food and Control

I usually kick these off with a 'Happy Monday!'—but, well, it’s Tuesday.

I accidentally scheduled Monday’s release for a future date, months away. That’s on me. Won’t happen again. So for today, Happy Tuesday!

Quote of the Day

"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit"

Aristotle

The quote teaches that to achieve greatness in any area of life—whether it’s in work, fitness, or personal growth—one must consistently practice and cultivate positive habits. It’s the repetition and dedication to these habits that lead to lasting success.

Alright, let’s get started:

The Day I Stopped 'Dating' Food

4 weeks ago, I was in Asia. I spent 2 weeks traveling across three countries, watching my good friends get married, exploring multiple cultures, and eating anything and everything I wanted.

It was an amazing time, and I’m very grateful for it. But I'll be honest—the first few weeks back were extremely rough on me. I struggled to get my routine and focus back, and this specifically showed itself in the way I ate.

I ate whatever I wanted and, naturally, the more I ate poorly, the more I set stricter boundaries with myself to prevent it from happening again. This naturally turned into me not being able to follow all those rules, and so I’d break them and eat poorly again, and so on in a vicious cycle that also affected other parts of my life like work, the gym, and my social life.

What eventually broke me out of this cycle was a phrase I used as I was mentally berating myself:

“A healthy relationship with food.”

I used to use this phrase and, particularly, the term “relationship” very often during my heavier days. Hearing myself say it again reminded me why I stopped using it and why I made it a strong point to stop looking at food in that way.

From my experiences, this term is often used in the context of nutrition and mental health, especially for those who are overweight and trying to lose weight.

At 270lbs, doctors told me:

“You need to improve your relationship with food.”

My family and friends said:

“You have an unhealthy relationship with food.”

And I told myself:

“I need to begin having a healthy relationship with food.”

Years and 100lbs later, I’ve come to believe that this way of looking at food is fundamentally flawed. Why? Let’s look at how Google defines the term “relationship.”

It’s defined as “the way in which two or more concepts, objects, or people are connected or the way they behave toward each other.” My issue with the term and, more importantly, its association with food is that it suggests a level of mutual interaction or emotional engagement that doesn’t exist.

Relationship” works well for human interactions, connections, and emotional bonds, but applying it to food can be misleading.

Think about it—at its core, food is simply a necessity for survival.

That’s it.

The issue I had for years was that I spoke about food as though it was some sort of sentient being, capable of reciprocating my feelings. What this inevitably did was blur the lines between food as mere fuel and food as an emotional crutch.

This led to an unhealthy dependency on food with a lot of emotional baggage attached to it.

By thinking of food as something I had a 'relationship' with, I gave it too much power over my life.

It became more than just nourishment; it became a source of comfort, stress relief, and sometimes even punishment. But over time, I found that breaking free from this cycle required me to redefine how I viewed food.

A Business Transaction

I now view food as, in some ways, a business transaction.

In a transaction, there’s an exchange—something given for something received. That’s it.

It’s straightforward, with no emotions involved. You give your body X and therefore you will receive Y.

There’s no emotional tug-of-war, no guilt, nor any stress attached—it’s simply a matter of what will give me the best return on my investment.

For example, one of the first nights back from Asia, I ordered an entire meal from Dave's Hot Chicken and washed it down with a pint of ice cream. For visual readers, that looks like:

Looks delicious, right? Yes, because it absolutely was. The issue was that I ate this and then became upset with myself because I had promised myself that after my trip, I’d be back on my diet. But this meal alone almost doubled the amount of calories I was allowed to eat in a day.

So I “cheated.”

Therefore, I was bad.

Therefore, I failed.

Etc., etc., etc.

I became emotional, added more rules to restrict myself even further, which led to many more of these meals in the following couple of weeks.

It’s because I was upset that I didn’t have a “healthy relationship” with food.

It’s just chicken. That’s it.

Instead of my emotional response, I should’ve viewed it as more of a business transaction.

“If I eat this, I’ll really enjoy it in the moment, but I’ll be going against my goals. I am aware I’m making a poor investment that may give me only a quick burst of dopamine and happiness.”

That’s it.

If I had looked at it this way, then I would have gotten exactly what I expected and moved on—no emotions involved, just business.

The same goes for the opposite. If I eat a balanced meal full of protein, healthy fats, and vegetables, I know I’m investing in sustained energy, muscle recovery, and overall well-being.

Done.

Rules, Boundaries, and Backfire

We all know that when you set strict rules for a child or teenager, they’re likely to push those boundaries and eventually break them.

I’ve done it. You’ve done it. We’ve all done it.

Having a “relationship” with food means giving it a significant amount of power over our lives. This “relationship” creates a set of rules, ethics, and morals about what we can and cannot eat, when we should eat, and so on.

But as I found, the more rules I set, the more I ended up breaking them. The stricter the boundaries, the more I felt compelled to push or violate them.

In my experience, the stricter the rules I imposed, the more I craved and binged on the very things I told myself I couldn’t have. Creating these rules only intensified my desire to break them.

When I stopped viewing food as something I had a relationship with, I stopped craving so much, stopped binging, and stopped “cheating.”

Now, if I want something like fried chicken, I just have it—without labeling it as a “cheat” or seeing it as a failure. It’s simply a choice I’m making in the moment, without the added burden of guilt or shame.

This shift in perspective has freed me from the constant battle with food, allowing me to enjoy what I eat while staying on track with my overall health goals.

No more “relationships” with food, okay? It’s just food.

To conclude: Change your perspective of food. From something you have a "relationship" with to viewing it as a simple transaction. It’s not about setting stricter boundaries or creating more rules; it’s about making choices that serve your goals without the added emotional weight.

  • Food is just food—nothing more.

  • By taking the emotion out of it, you regain control and make decisions based on what’s best for your body and well-being.

You've got this - I believe in you! 💪

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