Have you ever wanted to eat stale cake? I mean, like really wanted to eat it? This happened to me yesterday. Logically I know the cake is stale and I should have already thrown it out but there it was, in the fridge, calling my name like a song…Michelle…here I am….come to meeeee. It was after I ate dinner. I hadn’t been feeling well all day.
I found myself actually secretly wishing my husband would either a) go to bed early or b) go down and water the garden so I could eat the stale cake in silence. What I really wanted to do was shove it in my face without anyone seeing me. Without anyone saying “Are you eating stale cake?”. Because when you eat stale cake by yourself, no one can judge you. No one can make you feel gross or stupid or small. Not that my husband ever did that. In fact, I said out loud “I sure could go for something sweet” and he said “Why don’t you eat some of that cake”. Of course I replied “Eww, that cake is stale”. The funny thing is, I had already eaten some earlier in the day. I told myself I should because I probably didn’t feel good because my blood sugar was low.
I have lots of years of practice eating stale cake, or the stale chips my husband says to throw out. I used to do it a lot. I was a binge eater for many years. I would fool everyone by eating really good, healthy food when I was around them but when left alone the food hit the mouth..literally. And that’s when I would overeat and eat and eat, until I felt sick. I would want a cookie but would first try to “eat something healthy”. I’d eat an apple, then some gluten free crackers, then some chips, then pick at leftovers, and then I would say f** it and eat 5 (or 10) cookies. But I was still not satisfied. I felt sick and empty at the same time. Then I would feel guilty and beat myself up. What’s wrong with me? Why did I do that?
Because nothing could fill the void that I was feeding. Not a cookie, not even stale cake.
I had to really check in with myself and see what was going on yesterday. And it hit me. The cake was for my daughter’s birthday and she lives in CT. She came to see me for a surprise visit and she left on Thursday. We ate the cake together on her birthday. So I called her this morning and told her I miss her. I miss her and wanted to eat cake. Makes total sense to me. But now I know I didn’t need the cake, I needed to talk to her.
You can see I’m not perfect. Once in awhile this happens. And I’m ok with it. But I still get cravings and I still sometimes eat stale cake.
But not today. Today I threw away the cake.