healing

  • 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.

  • Finding My Groove: Showing Up for My Kids (and Myself)

    This week has felt different — in the best way. For a long time, I was just going through the motions as a mom. I was there physically, but my mind was everywhere else: thinking about work, my to-do list, what to make for dinner, or just waiting for bedtime so I could finally relax.

    But lately, I’ve found my groove. And it’s changing everything.

    Healing My Nervous System

    The biggest shift started with me. For years, I was living in constant fight-or-flight mode — rushing, reacting, trying to control everything. No wonder I didn’t have the capacity to be fully present with my kids.

    Over the last few months, I’ve been intentionally healing my nervous system, which has looked like:

    • Releasing trapped emotions that were stuck in my body and weighing me down.
    • Feeling my heart more instead of staying numb or disconnected from my emotions.
    • Meditating regularly, even for just a few minutes a day, to slow my thoughts and reconnect with my breath.
    • Choosing slow, intentional movement (like walking, stretching, or gentle yoga) instead of always rushing from task to task.
    • Doing less throughout the day and letting go of the guilt for not being “productive” every second.
    • Somatic exercises to bring my body back to a state of safety and regulation.

    Bit by bit, my body has started to feel safe again — and that safety has opened up space for connection.

    A Huge Realization

    This past weekend, I uncovered something huge about myself. Growing up as a middle child, I didn’t get much attention. And now, as an adult, I notice how that’s been showing up everywhere: craving attention from my husband, wanting my kids to notice me, even seeking it from my work team.

    Realizing this was eye-opening. It helped me see why giving my children undivided attention matters so much. I don’t want them to grow up feeling unseen the way I often did. Instead, I want them to feel deeply loved, heard, and valued — not through big gestures, but through the simple act of me being present with them.

    The Power of Presence

    Now that I feel calmer inside, I can actually show up for my kids. Not distracted, not halfway listening while I scroll my phone or mentally plan tomorrow. Just there — noticing the silly things they say, getting on the floor to play, and being interested in what lights them up.

    And you know what? Their behavior has changed. There are fewer meltdowns, fewer sibling fights, and way more giggles. When I’m grounded and engaged, they feel safe and seen. And when they feel that way, everything runs more smoothly.

    How I’m Making It Possible

    I’ve realized that showing up for my kids starts with showing up for myself.

    • Daily Movement – Moving my body every day helps me process stress and reset my mind.
    • Choosing Foods that Support Me – I’ve been cutting back on sugar, not from a place of restriction, but because I feel so much better without the highs and crashes.
    • Little Moments of Joy – Reading a few pages of a book, taking a hot shower, or sipping tea before bed fills me up so I can pour into my family.

    These small habits are helping my nervous system stay regulated, which means I can respond with patience instead of reacting out of stress.

    The Ripple Effect

    I didn’t expect the shift in my energy to ripple into my whole house, but it has. The mornings feel calmer. Playtime feels lighter. Even bedtime feels less like a battle and more like a connection point.

    And maybe that’s the secret — when I take care of me, I have the capacity to take care of them, too. And when I make sure my kids feel truly seen, I’m breaking a generational pattern of disconnection.

    Your Turn

    If you’ve been stuck in survival mode, I see you. Healing doesn’t happen overnight, but you can start today. Take a deep breath, release some tension in your body, choose one thing that feels nourishing — and most importantly, give your kids a few moments of undivided attention. It might change more than you think.

  • 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.

  • I Set Boundaries With Everyone—Except Me

    Yesterday, I had a really healthy day with food. I felt proud of myself. Then, later that night, I was in bed eating some fruit when I accidentally knocked my phone onto the floor. I leaned over to grab it, and that’s when I saw them—an opened bag of crackers I had binged on back on Easter. I had completely forgotten about them until that moment.

    And just like that, everything shifted.

    I got back into bed, but suddenly I felt hungry—almost uncomfortably so. The excuses started rushing in, like a familiar chorus: You already messed up before, just finish the bag. It’s just this once. You’re probably actually hungry. I didn’t fight them for long. I gave in. And afterward, I felt that deep, heavy guilt. I even woke up in the middle of the night, just kicking myself.


    But somewhere between shame and exhaustion, I had a realization:
    I’ve been doing a good job holding boundaries with others, but I haven’t been holding any with myself.

    That moment wasn’t just about crackers—it was about self-trust. It showed me how quickly my brain can fall back into old patterns when I don’t have clear, compassionate boundaries to support me. Not rules. Not restrictions. Just loving guardrails that help me feel safe.

    So I’ve decided to start small, with two gentle boundaries that feel right for me right now:

    1. No Eating After 8 PM
    Evenings are when I tend to feel the most vulnerable. I’m tired, emotionally worn, and more likely to confuse other needs—like comfort, rest, or distraction—for hunger.
    My boundary: I stop eating after 8 p.m. If an urge comes up, I check in with myself: What am I really needing right now?

    2. Anchor Phrase for Urges
    When those sneaky justifications start whispering in my ear, I need a way to interrupt the script.
    My boundary: When I feel an urge, I pause and say:
    “This isn’t about hunger—it’s about something else. Let me check in.”

    These boundaries aren’t meant to trap me—they’re meant to hold me.

    If you’re on a healing journey too, maybe ask yourself:
    What boundaries am I holding for others that I haven’t yet learned to hold for myself? And what would it look like to offer yourself the same structure and care?

    We deserve that kind of self-respect. We really do.