For as long as I can remember, my parents have encouraged me to eat all the food on my plate. As a child, I had no choice but to listen, otherwise I would get scolded for not “eating well.”.My dad would tell me that if I didn’t eat all my food, I wouldn’t grow, or get smarter, or get prettier. But what he didn’t tell me was that as an adult, eating a whole plate of food is not always the best choice.
I know my parents had the best intentions in mind, but they never really prepared me for the consequences of eating everything in front of me as I became a teenager and now a young woman. As a kid, I had never considered myself fat or overweight until I got to high school. I had joined marching band sophomore year of high school and had dropped 15 pounds in the summer. Parents and friends that I hadn’t seen in a while commented on how much “better” I looked, which confused me because I always thought I looked fine. I wasn’t the strongest or fastest in P.E., but no one ever made fun of my weight so I figured I was normal. And then I started looking at old middle school pictures. At that point, it was easy to understand why they were commenting on how I looked; I was clearly overweight, though far from being obese. As I got a little older and matured, I realized that my habits had to change. I started putting less food on my plate but then my dad would scold me for not eating enough. He’s tall and naturally thin so I think he sometimes forgot that even though he didn’t gain weight from overeating, I didn’t inherit those genes, and therefore would gain weight. I never starved myself because I’ve always understood that that does more damage than good, but I had more portion control and tried (and mostly failed) to be more physically active.
It wasn’t until I got to college that having a healthy lifestyle became easier. Now that I could make my own meals, I could experiment with different foods and make choices about what I like, rather than eat what my parents thought I should be eating (I’ve always been a bit of a picky eater so their food choices for me weren’t always what I wanted to eat). I had easy access to a gym and I got additional physical activity by just walking to class. I also joined a dance group at the university and took dance for credit too, and those extra activities really helped me maintain my weight the first year. It wasn’t easy though, especially with all the free pizza constantly being given away on campus, but I managed. Going into my second year, I got lazy and started acquiring some bad eating habits again but I’m getting away from that and getting back on track.
Whenever I talk to my dad on the phone he asks me whether I’m eating properly and I always say yes. Since my cooking skills aren’t all that great I think he has a hard time believing me but he’s more accepting now of my food choices. My eating habits have been 20 years in the making and his have been going on for almost 48 years, so I understood that it’ll take some time until he understands that my food choices are not bad ones. He just wants what’s best for me. And for now, I’m just grateful that he cares.
I know my parents had the best intentions in mind, but they never really prepared me for the consequences of eating everything in front of me as I became a teenager and now a young woman. As a kid, I had never considered myself fat or overweight until I got to high school. I had joined marching band sophomore year of high school and had dropped 15 pounds in the summer. Parents and friends that I hadn’t seen in a while commented on how much “better” I looked, which confused me because I always thought I looked fine. I wasn’t the strongest or fastest in P.E., but no one ever made fun of my weight so I figured I was normal. And then I started looking at old middle school pictures. At that point, it was easy to understand why they were commenting on how I looked; I was clearly overweight, though far from being obese. As I got a little older and matured, I realized that my habits had to change. I started putting less food on my plate but then my dad would scold me for not eating enough. He’s tall and naturally thin so I think he sometimes forgot that even though he didn’t gain weight from overeating, I didn’t inherit those genes, and therefore would gain weight. I never starved myself because I’ve always understood that that does more damage than good, but I had more portion control and tried (and mostly failed) to be more physically active.
It wasn’t until I got to college that having a healthy lifestyle became easier. Now that I could make my own meals, I could experiment with different foods and make choices about what I like, rather than eat what my parents thought I should be eating (I’ve always been a bit of a picky eater so their food choices for me weren’t always what I wanted to eat). I had easy access to a gym and I got additional physical activity by just walking to class. I also joined a dance group at the university and took dance for credit too, and those extra activities really helped me maintain my weight the first year. It wasn’t easy though, especially with all the free pizza constantly being given away on campus, but I managed. Going into my second year, I got lazy and started acquiring some bad eating habits again but I’m getting away from that and getting back on track.
Whenever I talk to my dad on the phone he asks me whether I’m eating properly and I always say yes. Since my cooking skills aren’t all that great I think he has a hard time believing me but he’s more accepting now of my food choices. My eating habits have been 20 years in the making and his have been going on for almost 48 years, so I understood that it’ll take some time until he understands that my food choices are not bad ones. He just wants what’s best for me. And for now, I’m just grateful that he cares.
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