Breakup Sandwich: Emotional Eating & Grief

Recently, I was asked to be a panelist for an emotional eating webinar my company was hosting. I was flattered to be asked to speak on a topic I was so passionate about.

I’ve come to know emotional eating well, both personally and professionally.

For many years I was trapped in the emotional eating cycle. After much personal work and therapy, I was able to break out of it… for the most part.

Like many people, recently I had been turning to food to squelch the COVID quarantine boredom, but otherwise I felt pretty in control of my food intake, and I was much more aware of how eating correlated with my emotions. At the time I was asked to speak on the webinar, I wasn’t actively struggling with it, and therefore worried I might have to dig through the vault to find good personal examples to share with our listeners.

But as luck would have it, a few days later, I found myself eating a breakup sandwich.

You know what I’m talking about. You won’t find this sandwich as a menu item at a diner, or even at a trendy vegan sandwich shop in the most pretentious Brooklyn neighborhood. A breakup sandwich is only something you can make, only something you can eat.

There I was, sobbing into a piece of bread, which I had slathered with spaghetti sauce and one slice of turkey, chewing furiously as I also shoveled plantain chips from my other hand into my mouth. Ugh, nothing’s worse than soggy bread. Maybe wet socks?

I was eating a breakup sandwich (which by the way, tastes like shit, in case you were wondering) because I was grieving. Like any “death,” whether it be a relationship ending, a loved one passing, or any other significant deficit, it was painful to endure.

After eating my breakup sandwich, I went for a walk and found myself on a park bench, letting my face soak in the tears. They were uncontrollable. Why fight it? Like farts—better out than in. It was the emotional equivalent of food poisoning: streams of salty fluid gushing out my eyes with no end in sight. I had to just let it happen, feel it, and let it pass through me. While I sat there crying, watching strangers pass by, I realized, it had been a long time since I cried. I mean, since I REALLY cried. I was long overdue.

The bright side was at least I had some material to talk about on this emotional eating webinar.

As a health coach, there is often a fear of having to be perfect, 100% healed, or completely knowledgeable on any given health subject in order to coach others. But part of what makes coaching so successful is being able to say, “I've been there, and I’m still there sometimes, but I know how to get through it.”

I was sincerely (and foolishly) hoping that with this one good cry, my mourning period would be over. Silly, Heather. You know better. While crying is much like riding a bike (you never really forget how), the healing effects come about slowly over time with regular practice. And I was out of practice. Letting go is a practice, as is accepting, as is crying, as is grieving. Just like one great workout will not yield six-pack abs, one good cry is just the start. 

Looking back, I’m glad I cried into my sandwich. I’m glad I still occasionally reach for food when I’m bored or anxious or sad. I’m glad because it’s human, and no longer something I worry will become out of control. I no longer am oblivious to the behavior of using food as a coping mechanism, as I was years ago. Rather, I’m very aware of what I’m doing and what the emotions are that are driving it. These moments allow me to practice feeling my feelings, instead of feeding them. And of course, they give me relatable material to pull from when talking about emotional eating with clients or others.

I’d love to live in a boredom-free world, or a world without anxiety provocation or heartbreak. A world where physical hunger comes on slow, and subsides with a wholesome meal. A world where food plays no other role other than nourishment. If you happen to discover such a world, by all means, give me the address. But for now, I live here, among the humans, amidst the feelings, and the various coping mechanisms we all turn to, including overindulging in the occasional spaghetti sauce sandwich. 

And here I thought avocado toast was all the rage.