Years ago, I sat across the table from a registered dietitian and explained something I already understood about myself.
I told her that if I made my plate in the kitchen, then put everything away before I sat down to eat, I was fine. I didn’t overeat. I enjoyed my meal and moved on. But if I left the food out or brought the serving bowl to the table, I’d almost always eat more than I intended.
She gave me a look that landed wrong. Maybe she didn’t mean it, but I felt stupid. Then she said, “Don’t you realize you’re actually deciding to overeat when you don’t make the plate and put the rest away?”
Two things were true:
- One: her delivery was off.
- Two: the insight was real.
All these years later, I still think about it.
Recently, I was traveling and came home with thirteen extra pounds. I knew it was mostly water weight. I hadn’t been drinking enough, I’d overeaten, and I didn’t move much. My body was holding onto everything it could.
Since I got home, I’ve been back on track. I’ve been eating healthfully, sticking to my plan, and have been losing weight again at a calm, steady pace. I’m back to being careful with what I bring into the house. I have bought treats, but they’ve all been pre-portioned and fit into my plan just fine.
That is, until yesterday. Yesterday, I decided to buy a fall treat that appears only for a couple of months each year. It came as a big loaf, six servings. I’d done my research and knew I could portion it out, freeze it, and enjoy it in six lovely little moments.
So I bought it. I sliced it. I put most of it away. And then I ate my planned slice with dinner. All good.
Except… I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was a real obsession that even my very best self-talk couldn’t overcome. So I took the rest of the package into the living room with me.
That was the moment I made my real decision – not when I ate it, not when I sliced it, and not when I bought it.
The moment I took the whole package into the living room, I knew I was going to eat the entire thing. If I truly wanted just one extra slice, I would have brought one slice. But I didn’t. I brought it all, and I ate it all. Eighteen hundred calories of “this tastes amazing” followed by “oy! My stomach!”
The next morning, the scale was up a pound. Logically, I know that one pound of fat is not gained from eighteen hundred calories. But the number was still higher, and my stomach was still unhappy, so it stung.
So, what’s the lesson? I’ve been thinking about it, and here’s where I landed. I didn’t mess up. I ran a science experiment.
I re-tested a pattern I already knew applied to me. I confirmed that when I take the whole package of something into the living room, the choice is already made. My environment decides the outcome long before my willpower ever enters the chat.
It’s not a moral failure. It’s just how my brain works. And here’s the real win, the part I’m proud of:
- I owned it.
- I didn’t spiral.
- I didn’t turn it into a lost week.
- I didn’t avoid the scale.
- I didn’t pretend it didn’t happen.
- I simply started fresh this morning.
That’s growth.
The old me would’ve been off the rails for days. The current me is building trust with myself. I’m learning that success isn’t about perfection. It’s about understanding my patterns and adjusting my environment to support me.
If the treat comes home already portioned, great. If the treat needs slicing and freezing, fine. But the treat absolutely cannot join me in the living room or any other room in its original packaging.
That’s the real lesson. It isn’t punishment or judgment, it’s just clarity.
I didn’t fail. I learned something about myself again. And every time I re-learn this lesson, I understand it a little better. This time, I moved forward without letting one night rewrite the entire story.
That’s progress I can feel proud of.