Rain starts to fall gently outside.
And I sigh.
Some days feel heavier than they should.
Not because anything big happened.
Just… everything at once.
The kind of day where the world keeps asking,
and you have nothing left to give.
So I don’t.
I don’t answer.
I don’t explain.
I don’t show up in the way I usually do.
I step back.
Quietly.
And I eat.
Once upon a time, food was a source of fear for me.
It stopped nourishing me and became my enemy.
I was so terrified to eat because of the reaction it gave me that I dropped to 70 pounds.
But I healed.
And food has become not only a source of nourishment, but comfort.
A friend I can count on to make my body heal…
as well as my heart.
And on days I feel the urge to disappear -
Not in a dramatic way.
Just be me for a while.
Not be mom, wife, and all the other crowns I wear.
Just me.
Not thinking about a million things an hour.
Just returning to now.
My now.
My moment.
My here and now.
I eat.
But not in a way that feels like effort.
No fixing.
No trying to make things look better than they are.
Just something simple.
Something that stays close.
A spoon in the container.
Cold. Soft. Familiar.
I don’t transfer it to a bowl.
I don’t dress it up.
I just sit with it.
One tiny spoonful.
Then another.
Slow.
Until my body says, “we’re good.”
Sometimes it’s noodles.
Eaten straight from the cup.
Warm. Salty. Enough.
No table.
No setup.
Just me, and something steady in my hands.
It’s not about indulgence.
It’s not about escape.
It’s not about eating through my emotions.
Because I know restraint.
It’s about reducing everything
to something I can actually hold.
Something that doesn’t ask anything from me.
When I don’t want to be seen,
I don’t stop feeding myself.
I just choose food that lets me stay quiet.
Food that doesn’t perform.
Food that understands.
And maybe that’s enough for now.
Not to disappear completely…
but to soften the edges
until I’m ready to come back.
--
Lady E
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