At work the other day one of my favorite staff members alerted me to a box of doughnuts down the hall next to the kitchen area. It was about ten in the morning and I had eaten breakfast and done yoga already. I had a cup of coffee that I was nursing as I worked, and the thought of dunking an old fashioned glazed doughnut began to consume me. I quickly decided against eating it because, after all, I already had a delicious breakfast, and I wasn’t hungry. If only that had been then end of my doughnut dilemma.

Instead, I debated with myself. My inner-rebel began to sweet talk me. I debated with myself about weather or not I should go down the hall and treat myself. Finally, after a ten-fifteen minute negotiation with myself I decided to see if my favorite kind was in the box. I had convinced myself that the battle would be worth having if my favorite kind was there. The things we tell ourselves…

So, I make my first trip down the hall to check out the doughnuts. There are about eight to ten doughnuts in the traditional pink box. There is one glazed old fashioned. ugh… I take a deep breath. Rebel me says, “Sweet! There is one! I LOVE those! Where are the napkins?”

I plead to my rebel self, “I don’t want it… I really don’t. I made us a delicious breakfast. Wasn’t it delicious? Remember? Poached egg, whole grain toast, and berries? Please don’t do this to me. I really want to lose weight.”

Rebel me says, “One doughnut isn’t going to make us gain weight! You’re making a big deal out of this. Seriously… it’s ONE doughnut.”

I breathe deeply not wanting to comply. I begin to feel like a nutcase and walk back to my desk. I sit at the computer and focus on my work. I tell my rebel to chill out for a few minutes and see if the compulsion passes.

Fifteen minutes later my rebel says, “I’m hungry. Don’t you feel that little pang in our stomach? It’s there. I feel it.”

I say, “No I don’t. You’re hungry for what? You can’t actually be hungry for a doughnut. You know this is about something else. We’ve had this conversation so many times.”

My coworkers near me hear me sigh but that’s all.

Inside my rebel says, Seriously, I just want a doughnut. It’s not that deep.” To which I reply, “Yes it is. I know you’re uncomfortable about something. Is it that you don’t want to be here working? What is it?” Rebel me is silent. Childlike. Angry. I breathe deeply. I don’t have time to sit and figure out why I want this doughnut so badly. I finish my coffee to the disappointment of my rebel. I tell her I can always go get another cup if I decide to have the doughnut. I start to feel embarrassed that I’m obsessing about this doughnut. I walk back down the hall to pretending that I just wanted to refill my water bottle but secretly I am checking if the old fashioned is still available for consumption.

I walk up and down that hallway every fifteen to twenty minutes, having a circular conversation with myself about weather to have, or not have, that doughnut for my entire four hour work session. I go through the whole gamut of excuses: the politics of fat and feminism, the ugliness of commercialism, the exercise-it-off debate, the count it on my weight watchers plan debate, and the just allow myself to have it so it won’t bother me debate (because clearly after several hours I still want it). I avoid it for four hours.

At 2pm it is time for me to leave. I take a final walk down the hall thinking I might bring the doughnut home and eat it when I am hungry. This is my final and seemingly most viable option to take the best care of myself. I would both, eat when I was actually hungry and have the doughnut. I get down to the box and stare at the doughnut.

I think, I have been in a knock-down drag-out fight with myself all morning about this little old fashioned doughnut. As I am looking for a napkin to take the doughnut with, I feel like I might cry. I am angry with myself. I am embarrassed that I have this compulsion. I feel sorry for myself. I decided to get off the pity pot right then and there. I turn to face my fats… I tell myself to be aware of the ground beneath my feet. I take a drink of water. I take my umpteenth deep breath and I ask myself for the deep-down truth. It comes… I don’t want it. In my disappointment I realize… I really want a nap, a good night’s sleep, a big hug from a friend, to not procrastinate on my dissertation writing today, to perform in a play, to be cast as a thin “regular-sized” woman, to not have the predictable health problems later in life, to lose weight and feel super sexy …and this freaking doughnut is not helping me! My rebel was right about all of her objections. All of the things she uses to rationalize with me are viable. I hear her, and I know she is me. She is the part of me that needs compassion and comfort who has practiced doing that with food her whole life.

I do not take the doughnut. I walk out to my car and I call a friend and tell her about the silliness that just ensued. We laugh about the trials of weight loss.

I get home and realize that I am now feeling an overwhelming compulsion to eat something else. I realize that making fun of my dilemma actually made it worse. I denied my rebel her rebellion and she is now raging. Not only that but I’m actually physically hungry for lunch!

I resolve to sit with her at home for ten minutes. I put my relaxation CD on and I tell her too feel anyway she wants and to just let me know what I can do to help her. I cry. I don’t know why. I cry hard. Then I feel better and laugh. I feel her and the compulsion relax. I promise to go to bed early and get a good night’s sleep. She is subsided and I am free of compulsion for the rest of the day. I eat a satisfying lunch and I feel successful.

That doughnut dilemma was just another part of the day. Don’t think it would have been any better if I had just eaten it. It simply would have been a different difficult conversation; the one where I beat myself up for not taking care of myself, or the one where I tell myself that I’m okay with it and I’ll run it off tomorrow. I am proud of how I dealt with it that day. Not because I didn’t eat the doughnut, though that is part of it, but because I decided to face the fats and just let myself be uncomfortable. I am proud because I breathed through the fear. These dilemmas happen to me almost daily. This was a particularly long one but still typical in it’s nature. It is sneaky, slick, and unrelenting. The more I practice dealing with them the better I get at understanding them. Slow and steady wins the race I suppose.