The grass is always greener, isn’t it.
No matter how many leaps ahead I take with respect to accepting my eating habits – not the disordered parts, but the preferences of large meals over small snacks, of sweet over savoury, of fruit/vegetables over meat, of having some sort of meaning to my eating other than me (veganism) – I still question them sometimes.
I question them because “the grass is always greener.” I question them because there is always something more “perfect,” for people like me, for recovering recoverers like me.
I think about all this as I sit finishing a large meal, thinking about whether or not I could have redistributed the food more evenly around the day. Thinking is a kinder word than what I am doing though. I feel badly, I am making myself feel badly because of SHOULDS, not because I am thinking about what is ME.
I know all of this and I am self-talking all of this, and yet, the grass is always greener for recovering recoverers like me…