Body Wisdom

  • Breaking the Weekend Binge Cycle: Choosing Consistency Over Cruelty

    Last weekend was Halloween, and I let myself go completely wild. I told myself it was okay — it’s Halloween, after all — and gave myself permission to eat whatever I wanted. That “permission” turned into opening the floodgates, and I ended up gorging myself all weekend long.

    Every night I ate until I felt sick. I couldn’t sleep well, my body was overloaded, and by Monday, I felt physically awful and emotionally wrecked. I even had alcohol on Halloween, which only made things worse — I regretted it the moment I realized how terrible my sleep and anxiety were afterward.

    By Monday morning, I was exhausted, foggy, and anxious. The more I’ve reflected on my past binges, the clearer it’s become: the anxiety always follows. And it’s usually tied to sugar — the more sugar I eat, the more anxious and hopeless I feel in the days after.

    That’s when I made a decision.

    I decided to stop being cruel to myself.
    I decided that I deserve consistency.
    I decided that I deserve a healthy, fit body and a calm, stable mind.

    Because the truth is, gorging myself on food isn’t self-care — it’s self-destruction. And I’m done with that.


    —

    When I Binge, I Disconnect

    When I’m in binge mode, I completely check out. I get irritable, I ignore my kids, I ignore my husband, and I scroll mindlessly on my phone. It’s like I’m not even there. And it can last the entire weekend — once I binge one night, I almost always continue through Sunday.

    Weekdays aren’t the problem anymore; I’ve built better structure during the week. But weekends? My brain still automatically associates them with indulgence and “freedom.” It’s a pattern I’ve repeated so often that it’s now a habit.

    My brain has learned that weekends = sweets, overeating, and escape.
    Now, it’s time to teach it something new.


    —

    Reprogramming My Mind

    This week, I took a gentler approach. Instead of diving into restriction (which only backfires), I allowed myself to binge on fruit if I felt the urge. It’s helping me transition out of the old pattern without the all-or-nothing thinking.

    And moving into the next week, I’m setting small, consistent goals:

    Eat one meal mindfully every day. I struggle with this, especially at dinner when I’m starving and distracted by my kids. I want to practice slowing down, chewing thoroughly, and actually enjoying my food.

    Increase my hydration. I know how much better I feel when I’m drinking enough water.

    Walk at least 6,000 steps a day. Nothing extreme — just enough to move my body and clear my head.


    Each morning, I also spend a few minutes visualizing what it feels like to be at my healthiest weight — strong, confident, and at peace in my body. It’s my reminder that this journey isn’t about punishment; it’s about becoming who I’m meant to be, one small step at a time.


    —

    Why I’m Sharing This

    I’m writing all of this because I know I’m not the only one who struggles. The guilt, the frustration, the feeling of hopelessness — it’s real, and it’s heavy. But I’m ready to change, and I want to help others who feel stuck in the same cycle.

    Because it really does start with mindset.

    My old mindset made me believe I needed to “let go” on weekends to feel free. My new mindset is learning that freedom comes from consistency, not chaos. It’s about teaching my brain that weekends are safe — I don’t need to go into survival mode.

    So this is where my next chapter begins: with small, steady steps toward peace, health, and self-respect.


    —

    If you’re reading this and you relate — you’re not alone.
    This journey is hard, but it’s possible. And we’re worth every effort it takes to heal.

  • How I Took My Power Back in the Middle of a Snack Spiral

    Last night, I had one of those moments—the kind that used to completely unravel me. I was tired. I’d eaten more than I wanted to that day. My body felt uncomfortable and full of that familiar guilt I know too well. But it wasn’t just about food—I’d been carrying a lot emotionally too. I’d uncovered deep truths about myself, about my past, about patterns I’ve lived in for years. It was heavy.

    And in the middle of all that, the thought showed up: fruit snacks.
    That quiet, almost automatic whisper—“Just eat them. You already messed up today anyway.”

    And for years, I’ve listened to that voice. I’ve turned to food when things felt too big.
    Not because I was hungry, but because I didn’t know how else to self-soothe.
    Not because I didn’t care, but because it felt like the only comfort I had.
    And I hated that. I hated how fast I could go from tired and overwhelmed to numbing myself with sugar. It always felt like a betrayal—to my body, to my goals, to the version of me that I’m trying to become.

    The Pattern I’m Breaking

    Usually, the story in my head goes something like this:

    “You’ve already messed up today.”
    “You’re uncomfortable anyway, what’s one more thing?”
    “Just eat the fruit snacks. You’ll feel better.”

    And maybe I would—for about three minutes.
    But then came the spiral: regret, shame, more guilt, more discomfort.
    The food was never the problem. It was the way I was using it to disconnect from myself.

    What I’m learning is that the urge to eat like that—fast, disconnected, reactive—isn’t about weakness. It’s a trauma response. It’s survival-mode. It’s my body trying to rescue me from emotional overwhelm the only way it knew how.

    Last Night Was Different

    But something shifted in me last night.

    I noticed the thought.
    I paused.
    I breathed.
    And I said, “No. Not this time.”

    Not out of punishment. Not out of willpower.
    But because I finally felt strong enough to sit in the discomfort. To stay connected to myself instead of abandoning her again.

    I reminded myself that I was safe, even in the mess. That I could feel full and emotionally raw and still not need to numb it. I let the craving rise and fall. I told the voice in my head, “I hear you. But I’m choosing me instead.”

    And it passed.

    It Wasn’t About the Fruit Snacks

    It was about the story behind them.

    It was about the part of me that always believed comfort only comes in a package.
    The part of me that thought I had to numb my feelings to survive.
    The part of me that was trained to self-abandon the moment things got hard.

    But that part of me isn’t running the show anymore.
    Last night wasn’t just about saying no to fruit snacks.
    It was about saying yes to me.

    To the woman who is learning to stay.
    To the woman who no longer needs to prove anything through perfection.
    To the woman who can feel big feelings without reaching for something to quiet them.
    To the woman who is healing.

    And that small win? It was huge.
    Because it reminded me that I am not powerless.
    I am not broken.
    I am not owned by my cravings or my past.

    I am learning to love myself not just when I get it all right, but especially when I don’t.
    And that, right there, is where real transformation begins.