I'm watching My 600 lb Life and have completely identified with the story of Brittani. She begins to see a therapist and the doctor points out that food made her feel safe as a child.
And something in me screamed, "Yes!"
When you are 4 and 5 and 6 years old, there is only food when someone who loves you is with you. Mom is home. You are clean and not alone. You are safe and loved.
I think I'm still chasing that. It isn't hard to imagine that learning to cook on the stove at 8yo was probably an attempt to feel safe when I was cornered by a terrible sitter or all alone in the summer.
The things that happened to me should never have happened. It is not okay that I was alone and abused and made to put on a happy face to hide all of that. I'm sorry little girl. I'm sorry you were hurt and no one knew and no one fixed it.
It's not okay and as an adult, I can now start to open back up and face those fears, those monsters, that pain.
I don't need food to feel safe. I am old enough to defend and protect myself.
