5 Minutes of Fabulous: Satisfied belly, Full soul

Hi my love! Wishing you a very happy and healthy holiday season! How was your Thanksgiving? Did you go around the table and give thanks? Did you feel loved and filled with cozy, holiday cheer? Or was your Thanksgiving dinner filled with discomfort and perhaps heated, nonsensical political discussion? Did you feel icky because you were seated next to that family member that triggers you and gives you the creeps? (BTW simply pulling from my own life here) In years’ past, I’ve always looked forward to the Thanksgiving meal almost like the way I look forward to a Beyoncé concert (excitement, full outfit preparation, and predicating exactly what would go down). Warm stuffing, the sweetness of cranberry sauce, and buttery pie crust filled not just my belly but, created a warm layer of protection between me and my loud, bickering family. Food made me feel safe. It was my distraction from the discomfort. Can you relate? I felt like food was my only friend and ally during tense family dinners. I tightly held onto the belief that the food on my plate would keep me safe. By keeping my head down and focusing on my food I thought I could go unnoticed. The food on my plate was the tool that literally kept me from opening up my mouth on everyone around me to tell them how fucked up they were and how much they were pissing me off. Have you ever felt this way too? Emotional or compulsive eating (also known as eating when we aren’t hungry or eating past the point of satisfied) is like having an open, bleeding wound on your leg and using a vanilla ice cream cone to heal it. Imagine that for a moment- having a bloody wound on your leg and placing an ice cream cone on it. The coldness of the ice cream may offer some slight relief on the wound, but then after a few minutes you realize that you're just a schmuck using an ice cream cone as a band-aid for an actual boo-boo that isn’t getting any better. Filling our bellies to the brim (on Thanksgiving, with Thanksgiving leftovers, or on any old day) won’t make our families more enjoyable. It won’t make up for our shitty, complex childhoods. It won’t create safety or love in our lives. The leftover pumpkin pie won’t fix the pain we feel about not having a closer relationship with our siblings or teach our mothers that it’s inappropriate to comment on our bodies. The mash potatoes won’t make up for the absent father or the fact that we deserve(d) better. You may be wondering, “well, what now?” The good news is that there is a now (you are alive, you can put your feet on the floor, wiggle your fingers, and if you pay close enough attention, you can even feel your hands tingling). This moment. If we can be honest about what is happening in this very moment, then all we have to do is decide what we want to do NOW. What does your relationship with food look like? What are your patterns with food? Do you find that you often use ice cream or a piece of pie to heal an open, emotional wound? Can you notice any patterns that you have with food? When you’re hungry, do you allow yourself to get pleasure from your food? Do you feel like you have a “food problem”? I know first-hand how overwhelming the holidays can feel especially if you struggle with emotional eating. I’m here to support you. Please feel free to respond directly to me in the comments below and I’m willing to work directly with you on this. Also, I’m over the moon to share that I’m opening up enrollment for the 2nd Annual 18 Days to Fabulous Challenge. The challenge is focused all around inserting more fun, pleasure, awareness (especially around confidence, mindfulness & food), and self-compassion into our lives. It will run from January 7th, 2019 until the 25th (1/7/19-1/25/19). As part of the challenge, I offer daily one-on-one email coaching as well as a VIP coaching call at the end of the 18 days. If you are interested in learning more or adding yourself to the list, simply email here and I’ll answer any and all questions. Wishing you the most fabulous day and sending you all my love always. Xo, Nina Daisy

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