A Bite of France, A Lifetime of Healing

It is safe to assume that a simple pain au chocolat will bring me right back to this moment in France months or years from now. 

It’s fascinating how food has the power to transport us. One bite, one smell, one familiar flavor, and suddenly we're reliving a memory we thought we'd forgotten. Food is so much more than nutrients.

For a long time, though, I fought hard to believe otherwise. During my weight loss and bodybuilding journey, I repeated the phrase, food is fuel, over and over. It became my mantra. Looking back, I think I needed to believe that because acknowledging food was more than fuel felt dangerous. If food represented comfort, celebration, culture, or connection, then it also held power over me.

The truth is, food is culture. It's comfort. It's joy. It brings people together around tables and creates memories that last for decades. But for many of us, food can also bring anxiety. Guilt. Even helplessness.

For years, I thought my relationship with food was broken. I share much of that journey in my book, Strong Enough to Endure. But with time, I've realized it may not have been my relationship with food at all. It was my relationship with my body. It was the lifestyle I had built—one that prioritized convenience over intention and lacked movement. It was also the absence of real nutrition education.

Today, one of my favorite parts of coaching is teaching clients about nutrition. Ironically, one of the most challenging parts is that many people don't actually want to learn. They want the solution. The meal plan. The list of foods to eat and foods to avoid.

But lasting solutions are often hidden in understanding.

Restriction was how I coped with uncertainty. Restriction gave me a sense of control. The desire to look a certain way invited rigid rules, and rigid rules temporarily quieted my anxiety.

Recently, I spent time with someone who lives by an extensive list of nutrition restrictions. It unexpectedly transported me back to the version of myself who measured worth by food rules and believed control equaled success. It reminded me of the anxiety I carried every day—and it also gave me a front-row seat to something else.

Gratitude.

Gratitude for the growth I've experienced. Gratitude that healing is possible. A quiet reminder of just how far I've come.

Today, I don't have a list of foods I "can't" eat. An invitation centered around food doesn't fill me with anxiety. I can confidently say, "No thank you," because I don't like something, don't want it, or simply am not hungry—not because I'm afraid of it. I eat when I'm hungry. I stop when I am full. Food no longer controls my thoughts.

And maybe that's what true freedom looks like.

I no longer believe food is only fuel.

Yes, food nourishes our bodies. But it also nourishes our lives. It tells stories, preserves traditions, celebrates milestones, and creates moments we'll carry forever.

Sometimes, all it takes is a single bite of pain au chocolat to remind us exactly where we've been—and just how far we've come.