‘Finish your dinner or no dessert.’ I think I heard that every night as a kid growing up. It was supposed to be stick and carrot but I think it was stick and stick. I just didn’t need the calories being forced into me. Forced may be too strong; encouraged, perhaps.
Either way, it developed a poor relationship with food that dominated for the next 30 plus years. I’m not blaming those who raised me. I didn’t pop out of my mother with an instruction manual.
But the lesson I slowly learned that leaving food on the plate was not rude or insulting to those who slaved to prepare my meals. Or the burger flipper who couldn’t care less what happened to his product. Because excess calories only go one place; my waist.
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