WTH: Why Having ‘Just A Taste’ Just Doesn’t Work For Me
By the time I have a rational thought, I’m 10,000 Calories deep, covered in cinnamon, and it’s too late to feel good about anything.
I don’t eat a piece of pizza.
I’ve never enjoyed one cookie.
I can’t begin to imagine what it feels like to have just a taste.
When it comes to food, I lose control. I’m relentless. I can go from mindfully healthy eating to mindlessly unhealthy consuming in less time than it takes to order a Sausage McMuffin. And once I do, nothing’s stopping me. Full-on Zombie mode, except instead of brains, I can’t get enough Reese’s Cups.
For the most part, I’ve put some pretty strong chains around Zombie me. Borders, boundaries, and practices that keep me edging towards the healthy mind and body I want. But every so often, when the chains come off, I have an eating contest with myself that starts when I wake up and doesn’t stop until I pass out in a crime scene of Oreos and Rice Krispie Treats.
Scientists call this “the-what-the-hell-effect.” Or, more technically, counter-regulatory behavior. It’s not that I can’t see what I’m doing isn’t the best for my body or my goals; it’s that once I’ve had a taste, even just a nibble, something in me says, “what the hell.” Screw one donut, give me all the donuts, and the entire pizza, and a whole box of Lucky Charms.
“It’s not a loss of willpower so much as a decision,” says Roy Baumeister, a professor of psychology at Florida State University. “When people overeat and fall off their plan, they turn off the monitoring process, stop keeping track and start eating more.”
To me, if a little is good, then more must be better — money, fun, exercise … Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I do great keeping my cravings at bay for months, even years at a time. But it’s the one time I let a single apple fritter slip through the cracks that has me scouring the isles of all-night gas stations searching for Twinkies, Starcrunches, and raw cookie dough. God, I love cookie dough!
That’s when the guilt comes — the endless cycle of denial, guilt, and shame associated with losing control.
“It’s not the initial giving in that causes problems,” says psychologist Kelly McGonigal, author of “The Willpower Instinct.” “It’s the feelings of shame, guilt, loss of control, and loss of hope that follow.”
In Buddhism, it’s called the second arrow. The first arrow is eating the delicious chocolate cake. The guilt, shame, and disgust you feel afterward is the second arrow. Which, oddly enough, makes you eat more cake to feel temporally better.
“Giving in makes you feel bad about yourself, which motivates you to do something to feel better,” McGonigal says. “And what’s the cheapest, fastest strategy for feeling better? Often the very thing you feel bad about.”
Some experts will tell you that the secret to defeating the “what-the-hell-effect” and maintaining self-control is self-compassion. You had the fries, they say, but you’re still a good person. There’s nothing to feel bad about. It happens to everyone, so pick right back up eating like usual and skip the guilt. And that’s all well and good, and I’m certainly an advocate for self-compassion. The problem is, it doesn’t work for me.
By the time I have a rational thought, I’m 10,000 Calories deep, covered in cinnamon, and it’s too late to feel good about anything. So instead, I do my best to ignore every treat. And if you’re like me, at least when it comes to anything you just can’t get enough of, maybe you should too.
Unbelievable as it is, There are unicorns out there who can eat a bite of brownie and be satisfied, a serving of ice creme, or God forbid, a single Lays potato chip. But I’m not one of them. That’s why I skip every sweet and salty delight. Not because I’m strong, because I’m so very weak. Not because I have willpower to spare, because I have so little left to give. Because I know I’m always one bite away from what the hell!
