What Happens When We Stop and Listen

I lecture to middle school and high school girls all over NYC. I have the chance to talk about eating, body image, and all things food-related to the generation of girls who are living it in real time.

As I was preparing for my most recent talk, I was looking at the content of my slides, and I realized I wanted to do things differently. The night before, I had been awake in the middle of the night. 

I literally rolled over and thought:

these girls must be so sick and tired of people telling them what to do.

They must be so done with hearing about what is good for them or bad for them and what they should do more of or less of.

They have to be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of advice they are administered and directions they are given.

But- what about them?

What is the most important information they need to feel better and be better equipped to make decisions in their lives and for themselves?

So I walked into my lecture and said; I don’t think it’s helpful for me to tell you what you should think and feel about your bodies. I bet you are over people telling you what is real and what isn’t and how you should think and feel.

Can we use this time for you to ask me questions about what you are really thinking and feeling?

Ask me about food and bodies- what is the most relevant for you and what is really on your mind, and let’s take it from there?

I had everyone write down, anonymously, every question they have ever had about food and bodies. I didn’t care what it was. And I would do my best to answer every single one.

Truthfully, I had no idea what I was going to get. But guess what?

They all answered. Profoundly.

By turning the tables and asking them, I was able to tap into their lived experiences, hearing the pressures they feel and the societal expectations that influence their relationships with food.

When given the opportunity to express themselves anonymously, these girls shared their fears, insecurities, and questions in a very specific and unique way. 

As I listened to these earnest, raw, and truthful voices, I remembered in my bones what it was like to be an 11-year-old girl. Brand new to the experience of self-consciousness and second-guessing ourselves.

We forget, as grown-ups, what those first moments of becoming inhibited were like, how disorienting it is to suddenly not want to eat in front of boys or never eat more than other girls.

I drilled down on their questions.

• I asked them to try to articulate what exactly they were afraid of.

• What did eating more than anyone else mean to them?

• How did it make them feel?

• Even- where do they think this comes from?

I pushed them- do they remember not so long ago, when they didn’t think about it at all? 

I responded to their questions with my own questions, and they stayed with me.

Allowing themselves to see that they all felt this intense pressure to fit in, and they were also able to see that they were not alone with all of these feelings.

At one point, I told them to look around because the entire room was nodding and agreeing with the passion and intensity that is so special and so specific to teenage girls. 

The one theme that came up, in a variety of ways that I am left sitting with was several of the girls reflected on what I call “food morality.”  This is the concept of foods being deemed “good” or “bad.” 

I said they were right; it makes no sense when people say things like, “I was good today, so I can have dessert” or “I have been so bad this week, I have to eat a small dinner.”

They laughed and agreed that when adults talk about food, it just doesn’t make any sense. Why does being good or bad have anything to do with having a burger or a salad?

Pointedly, some of the girls voiced that they also felt that they had to be “good” with food and felt guilty when they were bad. Some of them asked what they should say in those moments when they want to be bad and just eat freely, without guilt and self-consciousness. 

I said to them that food should not make us feel self-conscious and guilty. We do not have to give food all of this power. Food freedom is something that society has hijacked from us. 

I said to them that when they start to feel all of these confusing feelings, they need to say to themselves, and to the grown-ups that love them- you know what, I am just a kid. I do not want all of these complicated feelings with food and bodies. Please, just let me be a kid.

I also think, in the spirit of learning from the voices of these incredibly astute soon-to-be women, grown-ups can also choose to take away this power from food.

We do not need to feel shame or moral conviction based on what and how we eat.

Let’s learn from our younger selves- they have a lot to teach us.