Perhaps it is a coincidence, perhaps it is because I called my mother, Ma, but the first two letters of the month reminds me that MAy brings us Mother’s Day.  Despite the fact that some folks tout this as a shameless commercial “Hallmark” opportunity for selling cards and gifts, others experience it as a more poignant day; ripe with meaning and fertile ground for insight and expression.  For people working on issues related to food and body image, the connections between mothering, nourishment, nurturing and the female body are easily accessible during this time.  You don’t have to be Freud or even Freudian to understand that looking at our earliest associations with food, love, and self-soothing MAY provide us with valuable information about our current relationship with food and our bodies.

Our mothers are frequently the first reflection we have about the importance and meaning of food and our bodies.  Powerful role models, we choose to either emulate them or rebel, consciously or unconsciously.  How we integrate the messages we received from our moms impacts our behaviors and self-image long after we have left the nest.  Last year, for Mother’s Day, I wrote a piece about how my mom’s hatred for her body shaped my feelings about my body shape. (Here’s the link if you would like to read that post).  But this year I would like to write about a different aspect of mothering.

Whether or not we have any kids of our own, we are all still mothers to ourselves each and every day.  As adults, we have the honor, challenge, and awesome responsibility of taking care of ourselves and must learn how to discern between the positive mothering skills we learned from our mothers and those less beneficial to our physical and emotional health.  This MAY be an opportunity to do some spring cleaning and discard some less healthful behaviors, beliefs, or habits while showing gratitude for the ones that are enriching our lives. This isn’t always easy to do, especially if prone to guilt. 

“How can I reject my mother???”  “If I do it differently from my mother what does that say about how I feel about my mother?”  “I would like to take three giant steps please!  Ack!  I didn’t say, “Mother may I?* I have to go back to the starting line!”

*(For those of you too young to remember this game it was similar to Simon Says, in that you had to ask permission to move forward.  And if you got almost all the way to the finish line and forgot to ask, “Mother may I?” you had to go all the way back to the starting line.  Kind of like having to start back on Level one in Welder.** No room for error. All or nothing.)

**(For those of you too old to know Welder, it is …ah, never mind!)

But remember, there are numerous mothering styles, ranging from overly detached (othering) to overly enmeshed or (smothering). Consciously choosing a different style than our mothers used when we were growing up is not necessarily disrespectful nor does it diminish the loving intentions that hopefully accompanied their actions. We MAY choose to let go of some aspects of how we were mothered and keep others. (I will resist all temptation to make a pun about being my mother’s keeper.)

In thinking about my mom, there is no doubt that food was a large part of how she mothered me.  Her hands patting my head were indistinguishable from the sweet creamy farina I was eating when home from school with a fever.  Her arms around my waist held me like the cone held the ice cream I was lapping away at, as I snuggled on her lap and celebrated my birthday.  Food was an extension of her love and a language she was fluent in.  Was she the perfect mother?  No.  Was she the worst?  No.  Did I learn from my experience?

No doubt.

I have learned that it is never too late to learn how to be a good mom to myself and learn positive ways to take care of my body, mind, and spirit.

I have learned that in order to be a good mom to myself it is imperative to provide a supportive, nurturing and accepting environment for growth and sustenance.

I have learned that one of the negative outcomes of our diet obsessed culture is what a bad rap emotional eating has gotten from the dieting industry.  In the spirit of restriction and in the name of health and self-control, we are told that if we EVER eat when we are NOT hungry and eat to self sooth or celebrate, that somehow we have failed in our quests to attain the perfect body and achieve that coveted, detached and apathetic relationship with food.  But we are human.  And from the very start our experiences with food are intertwined with love and emotions, sad and joyous occasions.  To place a completely negative value judgment on eating for those emotional reasons is cognitively dissonant from what we have grown up with.

But unlike my mom, I consider myself bilingual in the language of food and love.  I have adopted a more mindful relationship with eating that helps me understand the difference between hunger, appetite and satiety and doesn’t exclude any one category out of fear. I have taught myself that self-acceptance, health, and self-worth are NOT based on being thin enough, or weighing a certain amount or using our body as a way to garner acceptance and approval from others.   It hasn’t been easy but I have had to learn how to trust myself with food instead of adopting punitive restrictive diet plans and extreme doctrines that call for an all or nothing approach.  These interventions inevitably set us up for bingeing and self loathing.  Our bodies and brains become the arena for the war between the “loving mom” who gives us permission to eat our fill and the nagging punitive mom hollering, “YOU DIDN’T SAY MOTHER MAY I!!!!”

I am not sure what my son, now in his 20’s, would say about my mothering skills.  He doesn’t read my blog.  I will guilt trip him about that later.  But I try my best to be a good mom to him and to me and that means putting my beliefs of what makes a good mom into action.

I believe a good mom:

• Accepts their child for who they are.  They reinforce the strengths of the child, teach them how to be safe, and try to reshape and dissuade them from self-destructive or hurtful habits and behaviors.
• Teaches and role models tolerance and acceptance of diversity in others.
• Realizes that a child must be nurtured, nourished, loved and taught how to love and nourish themselves in the absence of the mom.
• Realizes that there is a middle ground.  That no one is all good or all bad. And if you make a mistake you don’t have to go all the way back to level one.

Hallmark Opportunity???  Maybe.  But if that is what it takes to honor ourselves with a Mother’s Day gift of self-care, self-acceptance and gratitude for what good moms we are and are becoming then Happy Mother’s Day!!!

And yes, you may take as many steps as you’d like!

I won’t give my power over to the scale.

I won’t give my power over to the fashion magazines.

I won’t give my power over to bullies.

I won’t give my power over to my upcoming high school reunion…well you get the idea.

Changing patterns that have been ingrained and reinforced for years often entails looking back and assessing the habits, routines and assumptions that have accompanied us throughout our lives.  This can be painful as we review times we may not want to remember or remember times that we thought were long forgotten.  It may trigger feelings of remorse about what we perceive as regrettable decisions or missed opportunities.  And it certainly can re-activate feelings of self blame and self doubt.

When I think back on when I first started hating my body and turned to dieting as the only way I would ever be considered good enough, I want to apologize to the 9 year old Deah in the photograph quizzically asking, “You thought I was fat???”  And she is right.  I wasn’t fat.  How many of us look back at old photographs and wistfully say, “I wish I looked like that now,” or regret that when we were thin we didn’t enjoy it because we were too busy trying to get thinner?

Well even in those remarks, we are not embracing ourselves as we are now.   We are replicating the same attitudinal pattern we are examining as being unhealthy.  And if history is a good indicator and attitudinal changes are not made, ten years from now I will feel sad that I wasn’t appreciating myself for who I am today!

“If I had just kept exercising, if I had just stayed on that diet, if I had just…” All of those thoughts take us out of appreciating and acknowledging who we are now and how much we are doing towards establishing and maintaining physical and emotional healthy life choices.

I look at my old photos now and wonder what if I had told that young girl she was fine the way she was and directed my anger towards the people who were bullying her for not being model material for the cover of Seventeen Magazine?  But even in that reaction there is self blame.  I am blaming myself for internalizing the words and opinions of others and not being savvy enough to fight back.  I am blaming myself for not doing something that I was too young to know I could do.  I am reproaching myself for being too young to believe that my opinion mattered more than those of the authority figures that were giving me those messages.

I knew their words hurt; I didn’t know they were wrong.

I knew their words hurt; I assumed I was wrong.

Please, read those statements again.

I knew their words hurt; I didn’t know they were wrong.

I knew their words hurt; I assumed I was wrong.

If we replaced the topic of those thoughts with any other type of criticism or degrading behavior other than being told I was fat, there would be an outcry and charges of abuse  and bullying.  But in the arena of fat there is still a tendency to blame the victim and not reprimand the bully.  Some of it is excused by concern for the child’s health and comes accompanied by a doctor’s note warning us of the childhood obesity crisis, other times it is ignored because of a deeply rooted stigma and prejudice directed towards fat people in our society.  Those are now active arenas for the size activist and Health at Every Size® movements and becoming active in fighting discrimination can be quite empowering.  But not all of us are cut out to be social activists and that is okay.   We are, however, able to be self-activists and tackle the power struggle going on in our own internal world.  The one arena where we can make change and have total control is in our own self-worth and self-acceptance.  We don’t have to wait for anyone’s permission to forgive ourselves for what we did or didn’t do in the past.  We can start today to appreciate who we are and value the body we have.  We can help our kids to accept and appreciate body diversity in themselves and others.  It’s a whole different kind of power trip and I for one am enjoying the ride. 

Did you know that Dr. Deah’s Tasty Morsels was acknowledged for being number 4 in the top 50 self acceptance bloggers? 

Thanks to all of my readers for your support and input!

I’ve written about it several times, my favorite renditions being Please Hold which gives a glimpse into my experience with learning to manage my wait.  And again in Spare Change where I discuss a former a patient’s “aha” moment of leaving the waiting room and moving forward with her life.

But as a baby boomer, I have become acutely aware of my aging process.  This has been a slow revelation because there seems to be a glitch in the time space continuum.  I can’t explain it, but I know it is there.  For some inexplicable reason, (where is Carl Sagan when you need him?) the generation ahead of me and the one behind me are all getting older.  In my son’s case, like some real life version of the song Circle Game, the years have indeed flown by and now MY boy is twenty. My dad is firmly planted in his 80’s and I haven’t aged a day since college.  Unfortunately my body doesn’t always agree with my perception and has ways of telling me that I am not getting or staying any younger and that time, indeed, waits for no one. Well, if time isn’t waiting for me, then I am no longer willing to squander this opportunity to live my life fully and without apology.

Clearly, I need to lose some wait.

I know I am not writing about anything ground breaking or especially profound but I feel compelled to remind people that it is time to take your wait problem seriously.

Why now?

Frequently we establish these waiting patterns early in our lives when we are more impressionable to other’s feedback and more invested in pleasing those around us.  If we get the message that we don’t look good enough or are too fat to go swimming, scuba dive, dance, date, and travel or express our sexuality then frequently we begin our “bucket” list of what we will do when we are acceptable and are given permission to dive into new experiences.  Even if we were daring non-conformists in our youth, we may have been chastised for our audacity leaving us embarrassed and resulting in squelching any future attempts to try new things until we are certain no one will laugh at us or admonish us for crossing the line.

But as we grow older we tend to let go of some of our concerns about how others see us and we also suspect that even if we manage to attain that perfect size or number on the scale we will never look like the models in the magazines who by now are half our age.  There is a freedom in aging that many people write about and that I didn’t believe until I turned 50 and my motto was , “f*#k you I’m 50!”  I mean really, does someone have the power to dictate what I can or cannot do because of what I look like? More importantly, why do I give others that much power over what I do and how I feel about my body? I know this sounds easy, and it isn’t.  It takes practice, it takes courage, and it takes WILL power.

Why now?

Why not now?  Seriously, when was the last time you took an inventory of your belief system?  How much of the waiting is habitual at this point?  What would happen if you took a quiet moment to reflect on the things you have wanted to do in your life that you wouldn’t let yourself do because of your negative body image and see if they still interest you?  Some may be old and no longer seductive, others may be newer additions that just fell into the instinctual knee- (or no) jerk reaction.  As you review your waiting list, consider whose voice it is telling you that those things are off-limits.  Look at the situation from the present moment; in the here and now.  Are the risks still as scary as they once were?  Are you still willing to deprive yourself? I found that the voice telling me to wait had no real power over whether or not I chose to listen to the other voice that was beseeching me to stop waiting for a time that may never present itself.

It’s too bad in some ways that it took me as long as it did and I’m certainly not going to beat myself up for not having done this sooner.  I wish things in our culture were less stigmatizing and shaming towards those who do not fit into the narrow definition of beauty.  There would be so many juicier lives being led and fewer people obsessing about their weight and dieting.  But whatever age you may be, I ask you to consider walking out of the waiting room and making arrangements to fulfill some of your dreams, wishes, and goals.  If it’s too scary to go it alone, there may be someone who has been waiting to find someone else who was ready to stop waiting!  You never know…the important point is that you get moving…now.  Small mindful steps are better than no steps. And remember that you, not Jenny Craig or Jean Nidetch are in charge of your wait management.

So…what are you waiting for? 

This year’s theme is Everybody knows Somebody and today’s thought of the day is:

You can be comfortable in your genes!!

UPDATE: Disney has closed the attraction as of 2/25 “until further notice.” Rumors suggest the attraction will be reworked, but at this time there is no scheduled reopening date.

When we wrote our write-up about the new Habit Heroes mini-attraction in Epcot’s Innoventions we had a feeling something wasn’t quite right in it’s message. Now health care professionals are calling for it to be closed.

“It’s so dumbfounding it’s unreal,” says Dr. Yoni Freedhoff, an assistant professor of family medicine at the University of Ottawa. “I just can’t believe somebody out there thought it was a good idea to pick up where the school bullies left off and shame kids on their vacation.

“Rebecca Scritchfield, an adjunct professor at George Washington University, said she was “disgusted” by the exhibit’s implication that weight is indicative of health, writing: “I would love to know what sickos thought this up.” Read more: Calgary Herald

Happily Ever After!!!

“When you wish upon a star makes no difference who you are…anything your heart desires will come to you.”

I grew up watching the Wonderful World of Disney.  It was a Sunday evening ritual in my family, gathering around the T.V. and singing along with Jiminy Cricket.  Most of the stories were tales of justice with the good guy winning and the bad guy being punished.  Most of the stories showed people overcoming adversity with an arsenal of little more than a good heart and an honest soul.  And most of the stories did end Happily Ever After.

Of course when I was older, I realized that not everything was so wonderful in the world of Disney.  Most of the stories had children with no mother, or an evil step-mother, or who experience the traumatic loss of a father.  On closer inspection, the characters reinforced certain negative cultural stereo types, ethnic, ageist, sexist, and of course, size-ist.

I spent most of my childhood being jealous of the itty bitty waistlines of Disney princesses and I wish that Dr. Peggy Orenstein author of the wonderful book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter, had been around back then to offer me an alternative way of thinking.  Unfortunately when it comes to wishing, I learned at a very young age that all of the star wishing in the world would NEVER bring me thinness or the attention of Ronnie W, the cute boy sitting in front of me in class.  In my world, the only aspect of Fairy Tales that ever came true was my mom dying when I was thirteen and the challenge of integrating a step-mother into my grief-stricken adolescent world.

But now Disney has crossed a line from fantasy-land into the real world, and what they are doing, I feel, demands attention and action.

In an article by Dr. Yoni Freedhoff ,   we are introduced to a new anti-childhood obesity exhibit at Disney’s Epcot Center where the villains are the bad habits that supposedly lead to childhood obesity and are anthropomorphized into animated fat people who are depicted as lazy, gluttonous, and evil.

In another article published in the Orlando Sentinel, the exhibit is described rather benignly as a collaboration between a well-known giant health insurance company and Disney in an effort to curtail childhood obesity by arming kids with healthy foods to fight junk food wars, and to dance their way to health by getting off their lead bottoms and playing Disney Dance Dance Revolution.   These interventions alone are not particularly problematic and I would be hard pressed to find anyone in the size acceptance or health at every size ® movement who would not agree that kids should engage in fun physical exercise, establish a healthy relationship with food, and eat well.  And in the spirit of full disclosure,  I have not been to the exhibit yet, (if someone would like to sponsor me to check it out as a research mission, I’d be happy to indulge you) but based on the articles I have read about Disney’s Healthy Habit Exhibit, it shamefully stigmatizes and stereotypes fat people as lazy, gluttonous, and like Ursula the fat, evil sea witch, should all be banished from the kingdom!

The Binge Eating Disorders Association (BEDA) has initiated a Call To Action to inform Disney that this exhibit is inappropriate and hurtful and that this kind of shaming and stigmatization frequently leads to eating disorders.  There are many ways you can jump on board.

• If you are a Tweeter type person:  Use Your Voice Against Stigmatization of Children #constantcontact conta.cc/wHYYz3
• If you are a Facebook type person: Go to:  fb.me/1IpTvqDqG
• If you are an email type person:  Email Disney’s Communications Dept: TWDC.Corp.Communications@disney.com
• If you are a snail mail type person:  Write Disney Corporate Headquarters: Attention: Kristin Nolt Wingard Senior VP of Public Affairs 1375 Buena Vista Drive Lake Buena Vista, Florida 32830
• If you are a blogger person, blog about it or share my blog or Dr. Yoni Freedhoff’s blog or Kelly Bliss’s blog.
• If you are a petition person, go to this link and sign the NAAFA petition:  http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/stop-Disneys-war-on-fat-kids/

Here is the email that I sent to Disney and to the Orlando Sentinel.  Please feel free to plagiarize it and tweak it and send it as well.

 “RE:  the new Healthy Habits exhibit at the Epcott Center:  This exhibit, while I am sure has the best of intentions, unfortunately misses the mark. Not all fat kids are fat because they are lazy and living on junk food. And not all thin kids are healthy, abstain from junk food, and engage in exercise. By targeting fat as the “wicked witch” and fat kids as the gang of evil thieves from Aladdin, the message of health for everyone is eclipsed. Many of the kids I work with are fat because of medication or other genetic/chromosomal conditions, and the children I work with who have anorexia or bulimia (eating disorders) look thin, thus pass for healthy, when they may, in fact, be using laxatives and throwing up after meals. This exhibit is shaming and ineffective. If Disney wants to help kids be healthier, how about making the rides at their theme parks more physically interactive and offering less junk food at the concession stands? And please stop characterizing fat people as evil, gluttonous, and lazy, it’s inaccurate and just mean.”

Whatever you choose to do, please choose at least one thing TO do.  It matters!

 “I didn’t know.  I should have known, I didn’t understand.  I had no idea.”

These are phrases spoken frequently during the new documentary, Someday Melissa.  This documentary, proficiently crafted by a talented filmmaker, Jeffrey Cobelli, underscores how easy it is for loving involved families to miss the warning signs of Bulimia.  Melissa is presented as a bright, creative, and sassy girl whose self-esteem became completely hinged to her body and her quest for perfection.   Her friends, family members, and clinicians speak frankly about their Should Haves and the impact of Melissa’s death on her loved ones, is apparent.  Also apparent was the connection the audience felt with Melissa as we watched her pass through her developmental stages of latency and adolescence.  By allowing the audience to read Melissa’s journals and view the videos she made, we experienced from her point of view, the heart breaking, and I don’t use that phrase lightly, highs and lows that are  typical of the up and down course that those suffering from Eating Disorders frequently follow. By the end of the film, the audience is also grieving the loss of such a lovely, young, promising, and spirited girl.

In the discussion that followed the screening, led by Judy Avrin, Melissa’s mother, the audience commented on her much they had learned from the film.  Many voiced their understanding that early intervention is essential, while others commented on how long term treatment based on meaningful treatment goals, and NOT brief hospitalizations where inpatient stays are terminated based on lab results, is vital for recovery.  We learned that there is no quick fix for this diagnosis and the statistics of mortality rates that are presented in the film will shock most people into taking the problem of insurance companies discharging patients prematurely much more seriously.  But despite the sadness and heaviness of the material, the audience appeared to leave the theater energized and determined to tell the world how crucial it is to educate people about Eating Disorders. I know I left the theater hoping that Someday Melissa could find its way into Junior High School and High School Health Classes and PTA meetings, especially in Middle to Upper Middle Class affluent Caucasian communities, where Melissa’s story is replicated over and over and The Should Haves is an epidemic in its own right.

If you are interested in helping to spread the word about this important film, visit the Someday Melissa website and please don’t wait until someday.

National Eating Disorders Awareness Week starts on February 26^.

 “I didn’t know.  I didn’t understand.  I had no idea.”

These are phrases often spoken after the fact, looking back with 20 /20 hindsight.  These are the heart wrenching phrases, hand wringing phrases, and the verbal symptoms of a bad case of The Should Haves.

Feb 26, 2012, is the first day of National Eating Disorders Awareness Week.   For those of us struggling with an eating disorder, or treating clients with an E.D. or who have a family member or close friend/colleague with an E.D. the truth is that EVERY week is Eating Disorders Awareness Week. (E.D.A.W.).  In fact, EVERY DAY is E.D.A.D. and EVERY MINUTE is E.D.A.M.  (Not to be confused with the cheese). 

But WE are not the intended audience for NEDAW.  The purpose of declaring a week for awareness is to increase the awareness of those who may not be as intimate with the details, repercussions, and scope of this extremely debilitating disorder and to hopefully raise money along with awareness for treatment and proactive interventions.  The theme this year is, Everybody knows Somebody, which tacitly implies that we may not know that we know somebody, so let’s learn more about E.D. so we can recognize that somebody in our lives and help them.

“I had no idea. I never expected this.  You like me?”

These are phrases often spoken after receiving an Oscar from The Academy.

February 26, 2012, also happens to be the Academy Awards (A.A.) or as Bob Hope used to say,

“Welcome to the Academy Awards, or, as it’s known at my house, Pass-over.”

All self-deprecating Jewish Humor Jokes That I Totally Love aside, the irony that the Academy Awards show is being aired on the first day of NEDAW is not lost on me…the Mayor of Dr. Deah’s Hollywood.  While it may seem like old news by now, some of my readers may remember last year’s Tasty Morsels blog, Friendly Fire, which discussed Portia Di Rossi’s E. D. and the deleterious effects that the pressures of Hollywood have on an actor’s body image.

More recently, those of us who watched the Grammy Awards (G.A.) will remember the derisive comments by Karl Lagerfeld about Adele’s body even though the singer walked away with an armful of the coveted gramophone statues.  More importantly, I hope we remember her fantastic response to Lagerfeld, chastising him for focusing on something that she didn’t consider a problem, and was irrelevant in re: to her music.  It is difficult to ignore the fact that so much of the pre and post Grammy hoopla focuses more on the musician’s body (especially the women) and their fashion choices than on their talents.  Hearing performers like Adele and Kelly Clarkson reject the industry’s paradigm is a relief and hopefully other talented performers will follow suit.

Another beacon of hope that emerged during the Grammy frenzy, if you can call someone coming out as Bulimic a beacon of hope, was Lady Gaga’s announcement that she struggled with an Eating Disorder in her teenage years and continues to struggle with body image issues.  She is quoted in an article in Jezebel,

“It (the purging) made my voice bad, so I had to stop,” she said. “The acid on your vocal cords — it’s very bad.  But for those of you who don’t sing, you maybe don’t have that excuse until it’s too late. It’s very dangerous.”

“Weight is still a struggle,” she said. “Every video I’m in, every magazine cover, they stretch you. — They make you perfect. It’s not real life … I’m gonna say this about girls: The dieting wars have got to stop. Everyone just knock it off. Because at the end of the day, it’s affecting kids your age. And it’s making girls sick.”

Film Critic, Jan Wahl

Why didn’t they run that clip over and over and over on the red carpet???  And now with one week to go until the Big Cheese (no still not Edam) of award ceremonies hits our living rooms,  I urge all of you to hold on to your Jan Wahl Hats because, “It’s gonna be a bumpy ride!”  The Grammys were just an “amuse bouche” compared to the Main Course Super Size Portion of Insanity served up by the Academy Awards and the emphasis they place on form over film.  It is time to steel ourselves and get ready for the onslaught of media mania that will sadly plant seeds of discontent in many a viewer about their own body as commentators dissect each star who walks the carpet under the search lights.

But wait…let’s do a fade out…

Fade in…We find ourselves in Dr. Deah’s Hollywood.  A saner place where we can take a moment and capitalize on the perfect timing of the confluence of NEADW and The AA by introducing you to a film that fits the bill for raising the awareness of E.D.’s and satisfies the requirement of Good Cinema.

 “I didn’t know.  I didn’t understand.  I had no idea.”

These are phrases spoken frequently during the new documentary, Someday Melissa.  This documentary, proficiently crafted by a talented filmmaker, Jeffrey Cobelli, underscores how easy it is for loving involved families to miss the warning signs of Bulimia.  Melissa is presented as a bright, creative, and sassy girl whose self-esteem became completely hinged to her body and her quest for perfection.   Her friends, family members, and clinicians speak frankly about their Should Haves and the impact of Melissa’s death on those who loved her, is apparent.  Also apparent was the connection the audience felt with Melissa as we watched her pass through her developmental stages of latency and adolescence.  By allowing the audience to read Melissa’s journals and view the videos she made, we experienced from her point of view, the heart breaking, and I don’t use that phrase lightly, highs and lows that are  typical of the up and down course that those suffering from Eating Disorders frequently follow. (It is why, by the way, our theater piece Leftovers is subtitled, The Ups and Downs of a Compulsive Eater).  At the end of the film, the audience also grieved the loss of such a lovely, young, promising, and spirited girl.

In the discussion that followed the screening, it was clear that many of us were convinced that early intervention is essential, and long term treatment based on meaningful treatment goals NOT lab results is vital for recovery.  We learned that there is no quick fix for this diagnosis and the statistics of mortality rates that are presented in the film will shock most people into taking the problem of insurance companies discharging patients prematurely much more seriously.  But despite the sadness and heaviness of the material, the audience appeared to leave the theater energized and determined to tell the world how imperative it is to educate people about Eating Disorders. I know I left the theater hoping that Someday Melissa could find its way into Junior High School and High School Health Classes and PTA meetings, especially in Middle to Upper Middle Class affluent Caucasian communities, where Melissa’s story is replicated over and over and The Should Haves is an epidemic in its own right.

Similar to two other films that I have written about, Miss Representation and America the Beautiful 2, Someday Melissa also draws a direct line from the pressures of The Media and Hollywood to the onset of body dissatisfaction and subsequent Eating Disorders.  If ever there was a cause that the Academy should take under its wing, it is this one.  Can you imagine the impact if each actor who receives an Oscar this year, stepped up to the podium and said something to increase Eating Disorder Awareness?   Remember the coverage that anti-war statements received when they were voiced at the Oscars?  What if each winner admonished the media for writing headlines such as, “Academy Award Nominee Still Hasn’t Lost Her Baby Fat” or,  “Oscar winner looked frightfully thin in her Michael Kors.”

In that case the winner would be…

Everybody

That’s how I feel about Valentine’s Day.  Like a can of mixed nuts.  Remember those cans of Mr. Peanut Planter’s mixed nuts that would magically appear once or twice a year in the living room?  At first glance they looked like the regular dark blue can of roasted salted peanuts, easy for me to ignore, peanuts were never my “fave.”  Why I love peanut butter but can live in the same house with a can of roasted salted peanuts without any temptation for noshing on them still mystifies me.  But this can, upon closer inspection, was the bonus can of “Mixed Nuts.”  If I was lucky to get to the can before my dad, there may be some filberts left.  I LOVED the filberts.  If I got there before my sister, I could still “score” some pecans.  But the true treasures for me were the cashews.  Even rarer was finding a cashew in its entirety and not just a chip of the crescent or a split half; but the full cashew.

I believe my earliest experience in mindful eating came the first time I ate a cashew.  It was the perfect combination of salt, crunch, flavor and texture.  Sweet and salty at the same time and rich with a smoothness of oily munchy goodness.  YUM.  But mostly, the can of mixed nuts was stuffed with peanuts, and someone else always seemed to get the cashews and I was left feeling somewhat…empty…disappointed…and craving something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Valentine’s Day over the years has meant many things to me.  Before I went to school, it was an art project that my mom and I did together, cutting out lacey doilies and scribbling over the textured paper with red waxy crayons to see what shapes came out on the white paper beneath it.  Then my mom would do the most amazing thing.  She would fold the piece of paper in half and cut the paper and when she was finished; she would reveal a heart, filled with my scribbles.  I couldn’t understand how she could cut a piece of paper and still have it come out as a full piece and not split in half.

Valentine’s Day was about miracles with my mom and it was indeed a cashew.

Later on, once in school, Valentine’s Day was about bringing valentines to every kid in your class and your teacher.  The first year I remember diligently cutting out valentine after valentine, my mom having taught me the scissor trick and bringing them into school eager to hand them out.  To my horror, everyone else had brought in Snow White or Sleeping Beauty Valentines, glittery, each in their own perfect tiny envelope; except the one for the teacher which was much larger.

My valentines were the peanuts and I left school that day feeling somewhat…empty…disappointed…and craving something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

In Junior High, while the tradition continued to bring in the mass marketed valentines, now available in super heroes, Barbie, and Charlie Brown versions, what was written on the back of the valentine was the true valentine.  Most of them were just “peanuts” signed by the person who like me had used the class list and written name after name on each card, so as not to leave any one out or hurt someone’s feelings.  But once in a while, you would get a note on the back that was different.

“To the prettiest girl in Homeroom, Love, Gary”

Wow…that was a cashew, a filbert and pecan all rolled up in one!!!

Into adulthood and Valentine’s Day became about true love, romantic love, intimate sexy hot passionate love.  And of course if that was not in your life, it became about, why am I alone? Why don’t I have a valentine?  Where is my Gary now?  If I were thinner, I’d have a Valentine, I would think to myself as I mindlessly and angrily ate a piece of heart shaped candy that was given out at the hospital where I worked.  This whole February 14^th thing is just a Hallmark Opportunity to sell cards and make money.

NUTS!!!!

When my son was three, he and I sat at the kitchen table dutifully making valentines for all of the kids in his preschool.  Surrounded by doilies and red crayons and construction paper, we scribbled and cut and pasted enough valentines for each and every kid in his group and made special bigger ones for his teachers.  I showed him how to fold a piece of paper in half and cut it so it came out in ONE piece shaped like a heart.  His eyes were wide with wonder and glee.  We used glitter and stickers and he made one extra for himself.  I smiled when I saw that.  It had never occurred to me to make a valentine for myself, but somehow it felt right.

When I dropped him off the next morning, all of the other kids were marching in with their arms full of valentines.  Some were home made some store bought, I grinned.  I left feeling somewhat…full…hopeful…and satiated…as if I had had my fill of cashews.

Whatever Valentine’s Day means to you, whether we like it or not, we will be bombarded by the media’s message that it has to do with buying the right gift, and being loved or loveable enough.  I say, it is about connection.  And the most important connection we can make is with ourselves.  That is not selfish, that is not narcissistic, and that is not arrogance.  It is healthy.  The most important valentine we can receive is the one we give ourselves, from a place of self love.  Then we can open up to the love of others and be able to love others as well.

Imagine having enough cashews to go around??