Food Freedom: Or, How I Stopped Letting Ice Cream Bully Me
A few years ago, if you had opened the pantry or freezer, you would’ve thought I hated fun. No chips, no ice cream, nothing “dangerous.” Not because I didn’t like them — please. I loved them. Loved them in the way that, if they ever entered the house, I’d eat them faster than you can say “family-sized bag.”
The ice cream tub and I - not a healthy pairing. I’d eat until I felt sick, then keep going — because apparently “too much” wasn’t enough. Afterwards, I’d sit there in my food coma, promising myself that next time I’d have more self control. Spoiler: That never happened. That meant that those foods were off limits and I couldn’t buy them, because obviously I would have to eat the whole thing in one or two sittings. I truly could not even fathom that there was a way to not do that. And hearing about people who would only eat one serving of something and then they felt like that was enough? That didn’t make sense. There was probably something wrong with them (or me?) because that was absolutely not something that I could ever do.
With that said, it meant I had to avoid buying foods I couldn’t control myself around. Absolutely not, they could not come in the house because I knew what would happen. And yet… I’d always cave. Or someone would bring chips over (honestly, rude), and suddenly it meant it was time for the inevitable free-for-all. My logic went something like: This is my one and only chance to eat this EVER AGAIN. Better eat enough to last me through the apocalypse. Shockingly, this strategy never worked. Instead, cue the stomach ache, the guilt, and the eternal vow to “start fresh tomorrow.”
Looking back, the problem wasn’t the food. The problem was the drama I’d attached to it. Tell yourself you “can’t” have something, and suddenly your brain turns into a rebellious teenager sneaking out of the house. You didn’t even want it five minutes ago, but now? Now it’s all you can think about. Food works exactly like that “Do Not Touch” button. And if you’re me, not only do you touch the button, you slam it repeatedly.
These days, I don’t bother calling food “good” or “bad.” Food is just… food. Some things make me feel energized and healthy, others make me feel warm and happy (hello, nachos). Both matter. The way I broke the binge cycle wasn’t by having more rules — it was by ditching them.
I love baking, but it used to be anxiety inducing because I knew I’d make myself sick binge eating whatever I made.
Being able to make things without stress has been a huge win!
At first, keeping “forbidden” foods in the house felt like walking around with a live grenade in my pantry. And to be honest, it wasn’t a choice I made. When I moved in with my partner (who always has snacks around) I found my stress around food went way up, because the off limits foods were always there, and always very accessible. I suspect if we hadn’t started living together, I would probably still be abiding by the same food rules and binge-restrict cycle as before, because I never believed that was something that could change. And I will admit, in the first few months I ate wayyyy more of those foods than usual, and often way more than what felt good. In my mind they were still novel, and one day wouldn’t be there when I got my way and convinced him to stop buying them.
I learned that you in fact cannot cannot separate a man from his chips, and interestingly, little by little, the novelty wore off. The ‘bad; snacks stopped feeling like contraband and started feeling like… food. I could have a scoop of ice cream and then go about my day. I could eat chips with a sandwich and then — brace yourself — actually put the bag away.
Once foods were no longer good or bad, or allowed vs not allowed, the power they held wore off. Do I still sometimes have a snack binge and feel not great after? Yeah, of course. But more often than not, I can take a handful of chips or a mug of ice cream (if you eat ice cream out of a bowl try using a mug - I swear its better) and feel completely satisfied with that. Honestly so weird, but so nice.
Food freedom doesn’t mean living on chips and ice cream 24/7 (though some nights, no regrets). It doesn’t mean ignoring nutrition. It means you can actually trust yourself around food — no more guilt, no more panic, no more weird mental gymnastics every time you walk past the snack aisle.
Here’s what helped me get there (besides sheer stubbornness and lots of trial and error):
I ditched the food labels. No “good” or “bad.” Just how does this make me feel?
I gave myself full permission to eat the foods I’d always restricted. It absolutely is scary, but it takes away the need to eat as much as possible when these foods are available. I kept them around until they stopped feeling like forbidden treasure.
I reminded myself that food isn’t just fuel — it’s comfort, connection, joy, and culture.
I ate when I was hungry. Sure, avoiding meals because you are busy feels like a great idea (you’ll eat fewer calories during the day, perfect right?), but it rarely works. It’ll just end with excess hunger in the evening, the type that is hard to control and tells you that you need a ton of snack foods, and often results in overeating and discomfort.
I paid attention to how I felt when I ate - at what point was I no longer hungry? Did I actually want to keep eating, or was I just eating because it was there? Did I feel bloated and uncomfy after, or satisfied and energized?
I remembered that food is food. One good or bad meal or day does not make a difference, its the average of what we do long term. I stopped beating myself up over ‘bad’ foods, and this helped reduce the urge to binge because ‘I had already ruined the day, so might as well start again tomorrow.’
It took time, and a lot of unlearning, but eventually I got to the point where ice cream stopped bullying me. Now I get to enjoy it because I want it, not because it’s my “one last chance.”
That’s food freedom: peace, not perfection.
And honestly? It tastes even better than ice cream. (Okay… almost.)
