I live in a house full of boys, and I can confidently say that no one is paying much attention to what I eat. And for the most part, I’m not comparing my plate to theirs, either.
Although, I can remember times when I’ve noticed that I’m eating more than my husband and had a thought or two about that.
But there’s something about eating alongside other women that seems to invite a different kind of comparison. Perhaps it’s because, on some level, we assume their needs should be similar to ours. And when their plates look different from ours, the mind starts asking questions.
I remember what it was like to have roommates in college and grad school. To live with my sister in our teens. To sit down for a meal with other women and notice what was on their plates compared to mine.
And I’m certainly not immune to it now.
I can be out to dinner with girlfriends and notice that someone ordered a salad while I ordered something considerably more substantial.
And just like that, the mind has something to say.
She’s not eating very much.
Am I eating too much?
Maybe I didn’t need all of this.
I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit lately because of conversations I’ve had with several college athletes I work with.
These young women often live with roommates who play the same sport, train similar hours, and have relatively similar schedules.
Naturally, they eat together. And naturally, they notice what one another is eating.
One athlete recently described looking over at her roommate’s small bowl of cereal and then assessing her own.
Her roommate had maybe half a cup of cereal.
She had closer to two cups, along with granola, fruit, and soy milk. A meal we had created together to support her recovery from a period of inadequate fueling. Eating enough was an important part of getting her healthy and back to running.
Her breakfast was what her body needed.
But sitting across from her roommate, she told me she questioned:
How can she be performing so well while eating so little?
If I keep eating this much, am I going to gain more weight?
Maybe I don’t actually need all of this food.
And suddenly, breakfast wasn’t just breakfast anymore.
