Awakened Eating

Listening to My Body Listening to my body was not something I grew up knowing how to do. For years, I struggled with emotional eating, turning to food when I was stressed, bored, or sad. I ate quickly, barely tasting my food, and often found myself uncomfortably full without realizing it until it was too late. My relationship with food felt out of control, and I knew something had to change. It wasn’t until I developed awakened eating and learned to listen to my body that things started to shift. One day, after a particularly stressful morning at work, I found myself reaching for a snack out of habit. But this time, I paused. I remembered the concept of hunger and fullness cues and asked myself: "Am I really hungry, or am I just stressed?" I took a moment to reflect on my physical sensations. My stomach wasn’t growling, and I didn’t feel lightheaded or low on energy. In fact, I was comfortably full from breakfast just a few hours earlier. The realization hit me—I wasn’t hungry at all. I was just looking for comfort in food. This was my first step toward tuning into my body's signals. That evening, I decided to put the practice into action with dinner. I rated my hunger before eating, realizing I was at a solid “4” on the hunger scale—hungry but not ravenous. I made a conscious effort to eat slowly, putting my fork down between bites and savoring the flavors of my meal. About halfway through, I checked in with myself: "Am I still hungry?" I noticed I was starting to feel full, but I still had some food left on my plate. Normally, I would have finished it all without thinking twice, but this time, I stopped. After the meal, I reflected on how I felt. I wasn’t stuffed or uncomfortable for once. Instead, I felt satisfied, both physically and emotionally. It was a small but significant victory. Over the next few weeks, I made it a habit to practice mindful eating at least once a day. I kept a hunger and fullness journal, jotting down my physical and emotional states before and after meals. At first, it was hard to remember to pause and check in with myself. But the more I practiced, the more natural it became. I started to notice patterns—like how I would crave certain foods when I was tired or anxious. Rather than denying myself, I learned to honor those cravings in moderation, savoring a piece of chocolate when I wanted it without guilt or overindulgence. One of the most profound changes came during a particularly busy day at work. I had skipped lunch because of back-to-back meetings, and by the time I got home, I was starving—a solid “2” on the hunger scale. In the past, I would have torn into a bag of chips and eaten until I was stuffed, barely paying attention to what I was doing. But this time, I paused, took a few deep breaths, and prepared a balanced meal. I ate slowly, checking in with myself every few bites. Even though I was famished, I didn’t rush. By the end of the meal, I felt comfortably full, not overly stuffed, and I was proud of myself for listening to my body rather than eating out of sheer desperation. Mindful eating has transformed my relationship with food. I no longer eat on autopilot or use food as a way to cope with my emotions. Instead, I approach meals with intention, paying attention to my body’s signals and respecting its needs. It's not always easy, and there are still days when I slip into old habits. But each time I return to the practice, I feel more connected to myself and more in tune with what my body truly needs. It’s a journey, and I’m still learning. But by listening to my body, I’ve found a sense of balance and peace with food that I never thought possible.