difficult childhood. When I praised her for her strength and resiliency, she began to feel something behind her eyes that she said “could be sadness.” She had experienced so little praise in her life that this little tidbit had begun to open the floodgates. It was clear that I could help Jan access her inner world not only by offering her the attunement she so desperately needed and deserved, but also by highlighting her strengths.
The Way to Vitality
I explained to Jan that slowly and gently learning to pay mindful attention to her bodily sensations would help her reside more in her body. Over time, we would carefully draw out the sensory information that had been stored in her body and frozen by trauma. She could learn to connect these sensations to any associated emotions, as well as to current or past physical and psychological events. As we nurtured and strengthened an underdeveloped set of circuits in Jan’s brain, she would be better able to tolerate and regulate her emotions and soothe and calm her nervous system. This would give her more ease and comfort in handling other people’s emotions.
Feeling more connected to herself in this way could also help her feel more comfortable in her body. Jan’s earlier connection to her body through sports was a resource that she could draw on. Exercise that she enjoyed would be a way for her to reconnect to her body and perhaps to tolerate and enjoy the comforts of touch, including more intimacy with her husband.
Learning Mindfulness
If, like Jan, you were exposed to severe attunement failures or early traumatic experiences, an overall sense of threat has been stored in your nervous system and in every cell of your body. But it’s never too late to release this locked-up energy, increase your zest for life, and reduce your attraction to food for comfort.
In part 2, we’ll see how Jan learned to use mindfulness to become more aware of her bodily sensations, stay present to them, and allow them to inform her as they shifted and dissipated. As her tolerance for unpleasant feeling states increased, she began to release and free the energy that had been frozen inside her. As her vitality increased, she felt better equipped to transcend her painful history and transform her life.
To some degree everyone is a prisoner of the past.
— Judith Lewis Herman, Trauma and Recovery
One thing most emotional eaters have in common is that their childhoods didn’t feel particularly nurturing. Even if their parents or caregivers were loving, supportive, and kind, often there just wasn’t enough quality attention, listening, good attunement, understanding, empathy, soothing, comfort, and consistent nurturance for optimal development of the brain’s self-regulation circuitry.
You may be thinking, “Hold on, this doesn’t fit my situation — my parents were very loving and caring, and I didn’t experience any traumatic events in my childhood. My problem is that I just love food and eating.” I understand. And I believe you. I also believe that if you’re having trouble managing your eating habits and maintaining your weight in an optimum range, there’s a good chance that your brain’s self-regulation circuits could use some strengthening, and your self-soothing and self-comforting skills could use some sharpening. There’s some reason you’re having difficulty consistently regulating your behaviors and meeting your needs without turning to your favorite foods.
Even well-meaning caregivers can unintentionally neglect their children’s emotional needs at critical points in terms of brain development. Sometimes caregivers are unskilled at handling their children’s routine emotional challenges, including disappointments and losses, and they offer food as a source of comfort. Perhaps your parents baked cookies for you or took you out for ice cream when you were upset. “I’m sorry those kids were so mean. Come on, let’s go get a chocolate shake.” Maybe they unintentionally dismissed or denied your feelings in an attempt to calm you: “The shot at the doctor’s office will only hurt for a second. Then we’ll have pizza for lunch.” Or “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do fine on the spelling bee; you always do. When you get home, I’ll bake your favorite cupcakes.”
Perhaps they were skilled enough to inquire how you were feeling, but once you shared your feelings, they quickly attempted to distract you or to solve the problem. “I know you’re sad today about saying goodbye to Fluffy. Let’s go to the movies and take your mind off of it.” Or “I can understand your being upset that you weren’t picked for the team. Maybe there’s another sport you could try.” No doubt they loved and cared about you, but you were left with uncomfortable and confusing emotions, and without the skills for exploring and processing your inner world of feelings and worrisome thoughts, calming yourself down, and learning from these experiences.
If your caregivers missed out on the right kind of emotional nurturance in their own infancy and childhood, they may have failed to learn critical self-and-other care skills somewhere along the way. Or challenging situations may have taxed their coping abilities: even the most loving caregivers can be overwhelmed by a death in the family, a needy or difficult relative coming to stay, caring for a family member suffering from a mental or physical illness, or a devastating relationship breakup.
Emotional challenges and skill deficits resulting from unmet developmental needs often become more apparent after we address any physical imbalances that may contribute to overeating. Most overeaters have some body and brain imbalances, such as hormonal irregularities, food allergies, and brain-chemical deficiencies, that contribute to cravings and overeating. These imbalances may be caused by both genetic and lifestyle factors. The easy availability of nutrient-deficient, addictive processed foods, foods of animal origin, and caffeinated and alcoholic beverages also plays a role, for sure, in wayward cravings and imbalanced eating. Most of us are stressed out, sitting for too many hours and sleeping for too few. And our increased exposure to endocrine disruptors, including the toxic chemicals in plastics, perfumes, and pesticides that are ubiquitous in our environment, is wreaking havoc on our bodies and brains.
Teasing Out the Pieces of the Overeating Puzzle
Lenny, a thirty-four-year-old art director for a large advertising firm, approached me at the end of a seminar I was giving on emotional eating. Looking tense and exasperated, he said:
I sure hope you can help me. I’m really frustrated. I’ve been bingeing ever since the holidays, and I’ve gained a lot of weight. I’m stuck in a pattern of avoiding the things I need to get done and doing everything other than what I need to do. I’m depressed, sleeping long hours, and most mornings I don’t want to get out of bed. I have a ton of clutter at home and at work, and I cannot get myself to start back exercising. I’m sure I eat emotionally, especially when I’m lonely. I’m single, I work long hours, and I don’t have much of a social life. Or much of a sex drive, for that matter. Truthfully, I’m disgusted with myself and my life, and I’m embarrassed sharing this. I just don’t know what to do. I can never stick to any eating plan, so I don’t want to go on another diet.
When I suggested to Lenny that, in addition to emotional eating, he might be struggling with body and brain imbalances that were contributing to his overeating, he felt relieved.
LENNY: So maybe it’s not all emotional? That’s a relief. You know, I love to eat, and I have little willpower to resist my favorite foods. And I’m kind of lazy and don’t like exercising that much. But it’s never been this bad before. I’m
