Becoming a Peaceful Eater, Body Image & Self-Compassion:

The Hair We’re Not Supposed to Have

The Hair We're Not Supposed to Have

My mother is 89 and has dementia. For much of her life, she cared about her appearance. Her hair mattered. The way she presented herself mattered. Like many women of her generation, grooming was part of how she moved through the world. Now, some of those things have faded from her awareness. She...

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Becoming a Peaceful Eater, Escaping the Dieting Trap, Health Beyond Weight:

What Changed for Me About Summer Holidays

What Changed for Me About Summer Holidays

For years my calendar was marked by periods of bingeing and restricting. We had Christmas, then the months after Christmas were spent repairing the "damage" of Christmas bingeing and unattuned eating, which really just meant getting the number on the scale back down to where I could tolerate it. Then...

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Becoming a Peaceful Eater, Escaping the Dieting Trap, Food Freedom & Trust:

Permission Slips

Permission Slips

A couple of days ago my grocery delivery was over an hour late. When the driver finally arrived, I asked how he was doing. It was brutal out there even at 10 am, and they were running significantly behind after a warehouse fridge breakdown knocked everything out of kilter.. He said his office had...

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Becoming a Peaceful Eater:

My Dad left us this week

I want to update you, because many of you wrote to me after the last post about the cookies and the hospital bed and the fall. So many of you related, not only to the part about the cookies, but to the part about ageing, dying parents, the strange guises of dementia and the messiness of it all. It was...

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Becoming a Peaceful Eater:

Yesterday I ate 4 big chocolate chip cookies in the car on the way home from a god-awful day.

Yesterday I ate 4 big chocolate chip cookies in the car on the way home from a god-awful day.

Yesterday I ate 4 big chocolate chip cookies in the car on the way home from a god-awful day. My Dad is at the end of his life. Last weekend the hospital bed arrived, and my siblings and I rearranged their whole flat so that my parents could still be together. Our mother has dementia. My Dad has been...

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