I still remember sitting in my college dorm room with a giant bag of peanut M&M’s perched on my desk. I had told myself I’d only eat a handful while I studied, but before I knew it, my hand kept reaching back into the bag. You know how it goes, over and over until I’d eaten most of it without really noticing until it was too late! I can recall the familiar mix of satisfaction and shame that washed over me! Ugh!
At times, that feeling has followed me into adulthood in different ways. Most recently, it showed up in the form of those heart-shaped marshmellows from a nearby candy store. I don’t even really eat candy except I bought them on a whim. I found myself sneaking into the bowl to grab a few more, and then a few more again. It wasn’t like I was even especially hungry or even craving them. But, there was something about the texture, taste and sweet smell that pulled me toward them.If I’m honest, it felt a little like being addicted.
For years, I believed that was the truth: that certain foods had a kind of power over me. M&M’s, twizlers, crunchy granola. I’d laugh to myself that I couldn’t be trusted around them. Diet culture reinforced that story, too. If I couldn’t “control” myself, it must mean those foods were dangerous and needed to be “off limits”. So I’d swing between two extremes: total avoidance (keeping them out of the house) or all-out indulgence.
I knew that this wasn’t “healthy” and it wasn’t until I started practicing intuitive eating that I began to see things differently. What I had labeled as “addiction” was really deprivation in disguise. When foods are restricted—whether physically (not allowing myself to eat them) or mentally (telling myself I “shouldn’t” eat them)—they become louder, shinier, more urgent. It’s not addiction, it’s survival. My body and brain were trying to protect me from scarcity.
When I started allowing those foods without conditions, things slowly shifted. At first, I was skeptical. If I gave myself permission to eat M&M’s or heart gummies whenever I wanted, wouldn’t I just live on candy? But with time, the urgency began to soften. Knowing I could have them tomorrow, or the next day, meant I didn’t have to eat them all right now. Sometimes I still wanted a handful, and sometimes I didn’t. The food stopped feeling so powerful. And that felt good!
These days, when I notice that magnetic pull toward certain foods, I try to pause and ask myself: What’s really going on here? Sometimes it’s simple hunger. Sometimes it’s stress, fatigue, or the need for comfort. And sometimes it’s just that the candy is delicious and I genuinely want it. And that’s okay, too.
What I’ve learned is that I’m not actually addicted to food. I’m human. I’m learning to trust myself. And little by little, those once “forbidden” foods are just foods again—sweet, crunchy, chewy reminders that no single bite can define me.
But that’s my story. What about you? Have you ever felt that pull toward certain foods—the kind that makes you think, I can’t trust myself around this? How did it feel for you? I’d love to hear your stories, whether it’s about candy, chips, bread, or anything else. Share them with me—I promise, you’re not alone. As a licensed Clinical Behavioral Therapist and Intuitive Eating Counselor, I’m here to support you. If you’d like to explore working together, feel free to reach out at rachel@livehealthynyc.com.