Not so long ago, I watched – astounded – as Iraqi civilians tore down a statue of their fallen dictator and indescribable emotions flooded my heart. Days before, I had sat – riveted – watching any news my remote could find and my radio dial had not strayed from NPR for more than brief local news and traffic reports.

Iraq.

Afghanistan.

North Korea.

China.

The economy…

The list of external stressors seems endless and sometimes I wish I could just shut out the world. But my life is touched – personally – by too much of this chaos to ignore it for long.

Two years ago I would have found solace in a plate of nachos or a late-night bowl of ice cream. Today, I am astonished to find myself “dealing” in new ways.
I remember one of the first times I turned to food for comfort. I was at an awkward age and was experiencing the loneliness common to those turbulent, early-teen years. Whatever the cause, I was feeling particularly dejected and alone. Seeking solitude during the lunch hour, I avoided the cafeteria and spent my designated lunch money on potato chips and soda. This became a habit I would not soon break.

It’s not uncommon; most of us have turned to food for comfort at one time or another. For many of us, it was this “stress-eating” that led to our current state of overweight. In moments of crisis or malcontent – when others would normally lose their appetite – we found our “security blanket” by indulging in favorite foods.

An inability to cope with the pressures of life and the ongoing, ever-changing sources of our stress, we found pizza and doughnuts to be far less expensive than professional therapy… and certainly more fun.

A job change, the death of a friend, a divorce – even joyous occasions like getting married, the birth of a child, or buying a house – all were cause to binge. The impetus was irrelevant; the reaction was the same.

Until now.

Eating low carb has taught me an inherent truth:

We can always control our eating – even if we control nothing else.
Indeed, by maintaining this control, we gain some semblance of peace in a chaotic world.

I cannot control what goes on in the world; my influence has tangible limits.
Even those life changes that cause me to rejoice can wreak havoc on my nerves. But I will no longer use this “happy stress” as an excuse to eat.

And I refuse to let the misery of this world dictate my own happiness.

That’s basically what it boils down to: a choice.

Perhaps you’ll think me a Pollyanna, but this choice is imperative. My health – my life – literally depends upon it. If I continue to turn to food to soothe my spirit, I will find myself immobilized on my weight-loss journey and I have come too far to turn back now.

The great thing about low carb is that eating this way makes this decision “doable.” When I stay true to my low-carb woe (way of eating), my hunger is much diminished and my cravings virtually disappear. Even the mental temptation to eat foods I shouldn’t seems to fade as I consider the physical consequences of eating outside my woe. Without a doubt, staying low-carb helps me to stay low-carb!

So, does this mean that I am never tempted to turn to sweets or pasta in moments of emotional crisis? Of course not. That, unfortunately, is part of who I am. But I am learning new ways of dealing with life’s curve balls – non-food rewards, regular exercise, relaxation techniques, exploring my faith – and these are definitely helping. I know full well that my battle is not over. Those old ghosts are waiting to haunt me when I am at my weakest.

There is the store that always stocks the best ice cream sandwiches.

Here is the restaurant with my favorite onion rings.

Standing in line at the grocery checkout, I avert my eyes from the magnetic pull of the various chocolates – old friends who once consoled my weary heart.
But I am proud to say that the once daily battle has become increasingly sporadic.

And I do have new low-carb-legal foods at my disposal for momentary lapses in my fortitude.

As I rediscover lost health and well being while eating low carb, I find I am more at peace with myself – and subsequently – more at peace with the world.