Even Vacations Became Stressful During Eating Disorder Recovery

"You have to wish me luck, guys," I said to my eating disorder group one evening in early December 2019. I was days away from my annual family trip. This time it would be a week at an all-inclusive resort in Mexico, including my ninety-one year old baby. My mother wanted her to be part of our plans off-screen – but very real – this would be our last opportunity for the five of us to be in one place – as time stood still in 1994 when my best friend had a baby's sister, and we had memories for a lifetime. One of those memories happened to be a trip to a popular spring break destination. I love an open bar as much as the others, but if it meant gaining weight I would have preferred to stay home with my cats.

"What's your game plan?" my father nudged me as we dragged our tired bodies to the Italian buffet an hour after landing in Cancun. A nice Russian family lit the Hanukkah candles at a table behind us, so that I felt at home. The familiarity of everything made the food seem less scary than if they weren't there.

"I'll probably only have the salad bar so I'm too busy to order from the menu," I said. I knew exactly what he meant by “game plan”.

As a food and nutrition writer for a health publication (oh, the irony), I know the lighter the product, the more antioxidants it contains. But I also know my dad lost 20 pounds this year from eating mostly fruits, vegetables, stale grains, and plant-based proteins – and weight loss is far more immediate, tangible, and sexy, a benefit I can enjoy than , say, to reduce my risk of cardiovascular disease and inflammation.

I've lavish so many vibrant colors on my plate that you don't even have to drop acid to stumble upon the premium in view. I looked back and forth to my father's plate to see if our meals looked similar. If so, I am sure I did something right.