When Others Don’t Get (or approve of) Our Food Choices
/Weight Loss Fluctuations (3.10.2025 to 3.16.2025)
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Have you ever welcomed unsolicited advice from family, friends, co-workers, or tertiary-level acquaintances about how you decorate your living room, do your laundry, or grow your garden? Do you enjoy being told that saxophone lessons are a waste of time for your child and that being on a soccer team is the way to go, or that your dog doesn't belong on your sofa? Methinks you do not. I don't and never have. I don't invite one if I haven't asked for an opinion. And although I am by nature a bit of a contrarian, you may feel as I do, even if you're a lot nicer than I.
If so, are other people allowed to opine on our food choices?
Have you noticed that when someone around us hears that we're laying off carbs, they seem compelled—and entitled—to counsel us that we're on a wacky and dangerous path? And that it's not sustainable, that we're sure to keel over from any one of a smorgasbord (you should pardon the expression) of health problems. What's more surprising than others offering up opinions on a topic that is patently none of their beeswax is that many of us give more credence to those uninvited views than to what know to our bones works for us.
What's up with that?
Food is ubiquitous in modern Western culture. So are recommendations about how much and what to eat, what to avoid, and what to eat plenty of. For some reason, we've become conditioned to accept that there is a sole framework for everyone. Talk about wacky.
So what is one to do when buttinskies do their thing? Is it better to pretend to agree with them to avoid an awkward conversation? Do we blush and say something like, "Yeh, I was just to giving it a try. You're right. Pass the pretzels, please." Or is getting one's back up, bristling at being lectured on something as personal as food choices, and adopting a 'back off, boogaloo' posture a better response when boundaries have been breached? You know, like the meme reads: When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you.
There's no one correct answer, just as there's no one correct way for every person to eat. Me? When someone pierces the invisible but obvious social no-no of chiming in on another person's druthers, I give people three at-bats to take no for an answer, and the third strike means out.
Such was the case at a cocktail party when a friend of a friend shook a bowl of Chex Mix under my nose. I had lost about forty pounds then and was happily laying off the carbs.
"I'm reintroducing carbs into your life," they said.
"Ah, thanks, but none for me," says I, the very image of social politeness.
[shake, shake, shake of the bowl]
"C'mon. Life's too short to deprive yourself."
"Again, I'm good. Fortunately, I don't feel deprived. Thanks, though," I replied, still smiling and polite.
[more bowl jiggling]
"You must eat carbs for brain function."
"Listen. I'm not going to eat that. Period." No smile. Less polite.
I wanted to tell them that if eating bowls of zero-nutrient party foods helped brain function, why were they having so much trouble understanding the words that were coming out of my mouth? I kept that insulting nugget to myself. But they removed the stuff from in front of me and retreated to the opposite corner of the room from where I stood, avoiding me for the rest of the evening. (Not listening to them anymore was another thing about which I did not feel deprived.)
The moral of the story is that no one ... no one ... gets a vote on what we eat; not dear Aunt Ada, who delights in seeing people eat her pecan pies, nor the co-worker who wants an eating buddy in the break room; not a spouse, a kid, a parent; not so-called influencers. And not me.
We need to determine the best way to navigate our unique situations on a case-by-case basis. If you're a people pleaser, that's a good thing to be. But remember that you are a person and deserve to please yourself. If you're concerned about losing a friend if they disagree with your eating habits, it might be time to consider the meaning of the word 'friend.' And if you're like me—polite followed by still polite followed by blunt—that's ok, too. Just leave the sarcastic barbs in your mind, far from your mouth, where they may not enhance the situation.
I continue to work on that last bit.
Disclaimer: I’m not a medical doctor, researcher, or Ph.D., but instead, I’ve been fortunate to have had the time and resources to research the ketogenic diet, also known as LCHF (low carb/high fat). The information I share is based solely on my understanding of that research. We are all responsible for our own choices, including what we put in our mouths, and there’s no substitute for each of us checking things out ourselves. And I’m not a medical professional in any way. Go Keto With Casey is not a medical site. “Duh,” you might say. But best to make it clear to all. I welcome questions, comments, and even civil criticism. I’m still learning. So, if you have something to add, go for it. Links in this post and all others may direct you to affiliate links, where I will receive a small amount of the purchase price of any items you buy through those links. Thanks!
