Why Emotional Eating Is Bad For You And What You Can Do About It
We’re physiologically built to get pleasure from eating food. And yet too easily, our desire to self-soothe can tip into something that’s not good for us at all
Lately, I’ve developed a habit of eating dessert in bed. I scoop ice-cream in a little mug (you know, for portion control) and sneak upstairs for a few moments of blissful alone time in my busy house. I watch a show on my phone (Parks & Recreation, in case you’re wondering) and I scoff my treat. “This is self-care,” I tell myself, but I know better. Of course, I recognise that this is quite different to a more self-destructive sort of secret eating that is the hallmark of a disordered relationship with food.
Still, it’s a small red flag, because I know there are better ways to cope. Oftentimes, I’ll look down and the ice-cream is not there anymore. This is mindless eating. And it’s just one of the ways I use food to bring comfort.
We’ve all been there. At least that’s what statistics tell me: emotional eating affects 83 percent of people who struggle with their weight, Australian studies have found. Also this: female (mice) are more likely than male (mice) to reach for junk food when they experience negative emotions. And for once it’s not our hormones, which is what I have always thought fuelled my less controlled eating moments.
Researchers from The Florey Institute of Neuroscience and Mental Health in Melbourne believe the female brain is more susceptible to emotional triggers that lead to overeating. Of course, any woman who lives with a male partner with a more linear relationship to food could have told them that. Pleasure principle I still remember, with clarity, a conversation with my husband a few years ago. He bravely questioned my spike in chocolate consumption (a dangerous thing to do at the best of times).
“I guess I’m comforting myself,” I said, not thinking he would take long to connect the dots between self-soothing and my (very) recent redundancy. The look on his face was one of utter confusion. “What?” he asked, as if I was speaking to him in a foreign language. “You know…when you eat things to feel better,” I explained. Blank. Nothing about this resonated. And it occurred to me then that he’d only ever eaten because he felt hungry. Oh, how I envied him for that.
Of course, there’s a reason I reach for ice-cream or chocolate – not the healthier foods I love, like spinach, kale and quinoa –when the chips are down. Sugar stimulates the reward system in our brains and produces dopamine, the feel-good brain chemical.
“Our body is designed to get pleasure from food,” says Sarah McMahon, a psychologist and director of BodyMatters Australasia. More specifically, high glycaemic foods. However, along with the mood boost comes more intense feelings of hunger, an impairment of our self-control, and a greater addictive drive in the brain. All of which means that what may start out as an act of self-soothing can quickly become a habit that’s hard to kick.
From an evolutionary point of view, early humans needed this stimulus to lead them to calorie-rich foods in order to survive. But in modern-day life, this primitive drive is one of the things researchers believe is contributing to an epidemic of overeating and obesity.
One of the main reasons for non-hungry eating, as Sarah calls it, is stress. A study published in The American Journal of Clinical Nutrition found that women suffering from work-related stress were more likely to eat when feeling anxious or depressed. “When we don’t feel safe and well, we’re often conditioned to believe food will help us,” says Sarah.
Our body’s physical stress response could also have something to do with it, according to research. Studies show that the stress hormone cortisol triggers insulin production, which can ultimately impact food selection. Surprise surprise: The foods we are most likely to then crave are carbohydrates or high in fat, which helps shut down the stress response.
Most of us know an occasional splurge is fine. Still, there is shame and guilt, which can cause us to spiral further, says Sarah. That’s why it’s important that we start to recognise what stress is doing to us. “Observing how your behaviour changes when you’re stressed is the first step in maybe reaching out for a different coping mechanism,” says Sarah, who notes that one of the best circuit breakers when it comes to emotional eating is time.
“Before you reach for food, perhaps walk around the block, which may alleviate the stress you were about to treat with food,” she says, noting that it’s also crucial we don’t place pressure on ourselves by worrying about what we’re consuming. “Moving away from a dieting mindset is part of what will really help you reconnect with your appetite,” she says.
Oftentimes, when we are caught in a cycle of emotional eating, there’s a tendency for consumption to become erratic. “One way to start eating more intuitively is regulating meals so you have more opportunity to respond to cues like hunger and feeling satisfied,” explains Sarah.
Add to that: sit at a table and eat on a plate. As someone who loves to dip into the Nutella jar while standing in the pantry, I understand where she’s coming from. This is more effective, she says, than controlling your environment by removing trigger foods. “I hear all the time the extreme combination of food people will eat if their food of choice isn’t available,” says Sarah.
And there’s something so simple it seems almost obvious, except to many of us, it’s not. “I’m always cautious with techniques to short-circuit emotional or stress eating because they will often sound familiar to dieting techniques, although the intention behind them is completely different,” she says.
“One is about denial; the other is about being tuned in to your body and mindful of what you’re eating.” Still, when pushed, she reveals perhaps the most powerful tool that any of us have: the ability to ask ourselves, “What am I hungry for at the moment? Is it food, or is there something else that will meet my needs?”
More often than not, when I do this, I realise what I need more than (insert comfort food here) is some personal space or fresh air or to connect with a friend. And so I release the pressure valve another way… and I find that if I’m still hungry after that, my choices are altogether different and ultimately more satisfying.
Text: bauersyndication.com.au