My Love Affair with Food

I can't say when it started, really.

I mean, it's pretty much always been there. I've never been one to say, "No," to food.

Food is delicious. Food feeds the soul. Food feeds the belly.

I've always said that I'd never been able to have an eating disorder. At least of the restriction type. I love food too much. And even if I don't love my body, I do love my food. I don't mean to make light of people with eating disorders, but it's just something I don't understand how people do that to themselves.

Considering that I start to get irritable and ornery when I get hungry, I don't see myself getting past the point where I just didn't eat. My husband knows that if he senses angry undertones in my demeanor, he should probably get some food in me. STAT.

Maybe it was because everything my mom cooked for us growing up was delicious. Maybe it was because she never forced us to eat vegetables and provided ample starches. Maybe it was just the fact that eating is an enjoyable activity and filling my belly with goodies is a fun past time.

Whatever the reason, I've had a love affair with food for most of my life.

I'm a bonafide member of the Clean Plate Club. I don't believe in wasting food. If you can't finish it, ask for a doggie bag.

When I go to a restaurant, it sickens me when I see food wasted by other patrons. At least take it home! Or, if you really hated it, send it back and order something else.

Growing up, I often found myself going for seconds, and if it was really good, thirds.

I love sweet baked goods. If there was a birthday in the house, I'd usually eat leftover cake for breakfast. My kind of breakfast of champions.

I know what I like, and my palate is extra fond of red meat, potatoes, fried things, and dessert. No wonder I'm overweight, right?

I love food, and I'm not a afraid to admit it.

But I just need to turn down my love for the bad stuff and turn up my love for the better stuff. You know vegetables and other fibrous things.

So let's do this in 2011.