From Control to Freedom: My Healing Journey with Food

My relationship with food hasn’t always been this peaceful.
For many years, it was filled with guilt, pressure, and the constant feeling that I was not good enough.

This is the story of how I went from emotional eating and orthorexia to food freedom.

Childhood Curiosity and a Love for Taste

My earliest memories around food are beautiful.
I loved trying new dishes, and I appreciated good food, even as a little girl.
One of my childhood friends had Turkish roots. I still remember walking into her home, the unfamiliar spices and the magic of a different world. I was fascinated.

That probably played a role in shaping my love of travelling. Even today, I can spend hours leafing through international cookbooks.

One of the best gifts as a child was an invitation to a fine dining restaurant.

When Hormones Changed Everything

At age 14, when I got my period and due to a disease (thrombocytopenia), I had to start taking the birth control pill.
In just a few months, my body changed drastically. I gained weight. I remember my sister calling my butt fat.
I laughed it off. But little comments like this made me self-conscious.

I became more aware of how my body was perceived. Compliments were given to the skinny girls, which made me start comparing and doubting.

During my first trip to the USA, where I stayed for three months, I gained about eight kilos. A result of eating out often, irregular meal times, too little veggies, and too much refined sugar, oil, and processed food. People commented on my weight gain when I was back. They meant well, but when someone comments on weight changes, it’s rarely new information. The person already knows. It often adds shame. A sense of being judged.

A boy once told me: “You’ll become like your mum when you’re older.”
My mother may not fit today’s ideal, but she was not overweight. She’s soft, as my dad lovingly says. Most of the time, she felt comfortable in her body. Yet, there were phases when I could sense her discomfort. Times when she ate less or tried liquid diets.
A part of me internalised: “I don’t want to become like her.”

She managed her weight because she knew that above a certain point, it could affect her health. She did it out of care, not as punishment.

She, but also my dad always enjoyed food with genuine pleasure, and I know I have learned that love and appreciation for good food from them.

The Hidden Struggles

When I moved out during my studies, I entered a new phase: One of restriction, overachievement, and emotional eating.
I never skipped meals, but I started to eat less.
A relationship I had, deepened the belief I already carried: “I’m not good enough.”

At that time, I didn’t have much knowledge about nutrition.
I once read somewhere that if you want to lose weight, you shouldn’t eat more than five nuts a day.
I also thought it would be healthy to eat a big salad for dinner. Not a Buddha bowl, but the green, iceberg kind of salad. Sometimes I went to bed still hungry.
Low-fat milk for my coffee. A piece of bread dipped in yoghurt for lunch. Not much variety.

I wanted to stay the way I was and managed. But that was a silent struggle no one could see from the outside.

I always made sure I had my period, since it’s one of the first signs your body can give you when it’s out of balance or lacking nutrients.

I was running five times a week. Doing HIIT. Yoga. Swimming.
So much time went into sports.
Next to my studies, I had five different jobs, a very active social life, and travelled on every occasion.
Rest felt like a guilty pleasure I had to earn.

My emotional eating got worse. I turned to chocolate when I felt sad or overwhelmed.
And a few times, I made myself throw up because I was so nauseous.
I remember thinking: If I continue this way, I will have a binge eating disorder and it would destroy my teeth.
Plus, I would no longer be the perfect daughter. The one who excelled at school, behaved, and made no trouble.
So, after an emotional eating attack, I just waited until the nausea went away.
But I felt bad. And guilty.

When “Healthy” Becomes Harmful

At some point, I started eating vegan. And for the first time, I researched nutrition.
A newfound passion of mine.
I wanted to stay “healthy” and feared not getting all the nutrients I needed.

To my surprise, I realised how poorly I had been eating before, how little I knew about protein, healthy fats, and gut health. I was shocked.

At the same time, my emotional eating didn’t magically disappear.
But dealing with the root cause of it and learning that sugar stimulates the same receptors in the brain as cocaine, helped a lot.

From One Extreme to the Opposite

Later, I entered a relationship with someone who was excessively preoccupied with eating “healthy.”
He would tense up when food wasn’t healthy enough and point out what was unhealthy about a certain meal.
He didn’t share my enthusiasm for exploring new foods. He would have been perfectly content with a tube containing all essential nutrients.

I see now that I internalised some of his beliefs about food and health, letting them shape my own relationship with eating for a while.
Food became stressful. It became something to manage, control, and nourish the body, but not the soul.
This is called Orthorexia: Obsessively avoiding “unhealthy” foods.

After our breakup, I re-learned how to eat without stress.

My next partner helped me soften again. He loved eating.
When he ate something super delicious, he always wanted to share it with me.
We had a couple of fights about this. Because what he wanted to share was not vegan.
In the beginning of our relationship, I made a few exceptions and would take a bite, just to make him happy.
But even that small bite would leave me feeling bad. On the days I refused, he would get upset.

One day, he said: “You can’t say you eat vegan if you sometimes eat cheese or eggs.”
That stung.

It was only after I broke up with him and began to unpack our relationship piece by piece that I understood what had happened there.

• He insisted on sharing food as a form of connection, even when I clearly communicated that eating animal products didn’t feel good for me. → boundary-pushing, lack of respect
• He got upset when I prioritised my values, making me feel like I had to choose between his happiness and my own. → controlling
• He used my moments of flexibility against me. → manipulative

But I am grateful to him for helping me find my joy for food again.

Letting Go and Finding Balance Through Knowledge and Self-Compassion

Over the years, I learned to release any worries concerning food.
I now understand that stress about food is more harmful for my health than the food itself.
That the body has incredible self-healing power if we nourish it, listen to it, and allow it to rest.

As I learned more about nutrition, food combining, gut health, and Ayurveda, I reached a point where I could simply eat as much as I felt like without overeating or undereating.
I trust my body and choose foods that make me feel nourished and energised. And I enjoy everything I eat without guilt.

And to me, that feels like true freedom.

Today, I love not just who I am, but my body too.
And I know I am enough.

What I Wish I Had Known Sooner

• Labels can help communicate, but they shouldn’t define you.
• Learn about food. Not to eat less, but to eat smarter.
• It’s okay to ask for support.
• Elevated cortisol levels prevent weight loss. Especially around the belly.
• It’s not just what you eat. It’s when, how, and how you feel about it.
• You are not what you eat. You are how you treat yourself.
• There is no nutrition that works for everyone.

🔍 Your Personal Relationship with Food