A Break from the Breakfast Brunch Buffet

Unlike Aunt Bessie, my parents are much more sympathetic to my compulsive overeating and have taken steps to alleviate my holiday food-related stress. Opting for a more healthy Christmas day brunch, my mother decided to forego our traditional breakfast biscuit and gravy buffet and instead cooked a small amount food and offered healthy options like veggies and fruits. The desserts were gone and so were all the starchy, high fat foods.

We had a small, and I mean small, prime rib roast, a small amount of broiled pork filet and sliced turkey breast. All of which only filled up three paper plates. We had veggies, fruits, and salad. That’s it. No desserts no dips, no high sugar foods. I don’t think anyone missed a thing. If they did, they didn’t say anything. Now my mother called everyone ahead of time and told them what she was doing and why. I didn’t know she did that until later, but I don’t mind. She told me that I didn’t have to worry about Christmas brunch and so I didn’t. She took care of it. I’m pretty open about my weight issues and don’t mind if people know.

Honestly, I didn’t feel like I was missing out at all. I had second helpings on the salad (and a touch of the meat) and then stopped. I did not feel the least bit cheated, I was not over full, and my gi tract was thankful that I didn’t eat biscuits and gravy. I love them, but they do not love me. Christmas at Mom and Dad’s house was nice and I didn’t overeat the entire time I was there. I ate healthy because there were only healthy choices available. The only desserts in the house were small, individual cups of ice cream (which I did not have nor want) and sugar free Klondike bars (of which I ate two over the course of four days.) Now that is love. It is that kind of support that will help me make it through my journey of a healthy lifestyle.

The Cookie Rapist

I decided I wasn’t going to Aunt Bessie’s Christmas party because of all the food, and I told her so. I’ve received support for that decision. In the end, however, I backed out. Not because of lack of resolve or fears of Aunt Bessie’s wrath. Nor did I do it out of respect for her feelings. I agreed to go for two reasons: Aunt Bessie agreed not to serve the traditional buffet and my parents asked me to.

I told Aunt Bessie, during a Sunday meal at Ruby Tuesday, that I wasn’t coming because there was too much food and it is too hard. She says she doesn’t understand what I mean when I say it’s “too hard”. I think she’s full of crap. She understands it exactly; she doesn’t agree with it. She would rather me come and refrain from her constant barrage of stumbling blocks that she seems to enjoy throwing my way. It’s a game of some sort. Anyway, she was very unhappy that I was not coming. At first she tried to negotiate a way for my daughter to still be able to come. I will have none of that. Call it what you will, I am spending Christmas with my daughter and I will not subject her to that which I am unwilling to endure. I am the only thing standing between Aunt Bessie and my daughter and if you think she enjoys stuffing food down my gullet, she enjoys doing it to my daughter as well. I do not allow that.

Since that didn’t work she switched tactics. She unselfishly announced that she was changing the entire menu just for me. We talked about what that meant exactly: no buffet lines, small amounts of food, no dips and junk, and forgoing the desserts. I know my Aunt Bessie too well and I knew that this was an empty promise – a ruse –engineered in order to manipulate me to come to her party. She was not going to serve only turkey, salad and green beans. My upbringing dictates my behavior and I cannot bring myself to accuse her of such a deceptive plan. After all, as everyone points out, I just have to learn not to eat so much. That phrase is starting to piss me off a bit. I am not at the point where I can attend events where my drug is readily available and sitting out, and not partake in it. Maybe someday, but not right now. First I have to learn why I overeat, how to overcome it in my everyday life, and then attempt the big holiday parties.

My parents and wife agreed to help me at Aunt Bessie’s party, which is a huge help. I went, but rather than spending time in the kitchen, as we always do, we all hung out in her den, playing with the kids and talking. Aunt Bessie was not too happy about that because we were not eating the food, which was the point. I kept a glass of water with me to help satisfy my desire to eat. When it came time to eat, I had turkey, salad and green beans. I ate nothing else, but it was very stressful and difficult. I was exhausted after the ordeal. There was much more to the feast:

• Turkey
• Dressing
• Green Beans
• Chicken Stew
• 4-5 dozen Crescent Rolls
• Olives
• Pickles
• Crackers
• Chips
• Dips
• Mushrooms
• Cheese
• Canned Cheese
• Nuts
• Pumpkin Pie
• Cheesecake
• Angel Food Cake
• Cookies
• Peanut Brittle

I know that Christmas is a time for family and big parties are common. I understand that and I accept that. I don’t ask anyone to change their parties, and I didn’t ask Aunt Bessie to change hers. I change my behaviors, not those of other people. If I cannot attend a party because of the food, then I do not go. Aunt Bessie would have no part of that and agreed to have only turkey, salad and soup in order that I could attend. It was her idea to change things and to hear her tell it she was already planning on changing the menu all along.

I was fully prepared for the buffet. To her credit, it was better than usual. There weren’t mashed potatoes or sweet potato casserole, but there was dressing (a dish I love). She said it was okay because she made it with sage and I don’t like it with sage. That is true, I prefer it without sage. But that doesn’t mean I won’t eat it. If I can’t get real heroine, then I will take her lying and serving it anyway. Besides everyone was watching. There is something to be said about anger and its use to help one overcome and succeed. Truth be told, I really didn’t need all of that food that day.

I was strong and being watched, so I stayed in the den and my family stayed with me. We played cards and talked and had fun. Every little bit Aunt Bessie would bring food from the kitchen to the den and pass it around. My wife and parents, supporting me, always politely declined. Then Aunt Bessie would make her way to me and entice me to take the food. I always declined graciously, to which she would ask again.

Once she brought me the guacamole and asked me to try it. I just stared at her, letting her know that she was crossing the line. She didn’t care. She stayed the course. So she asked again and again. She knows that I love guacamole. It’s one of my favorites. After watching this for as long as she could stand it, my wife chimed in and politely mentioned that I didn’t want it and I didn’t need it. Aunt Bessie swatted her hand at my charming wife and asked me again to try it, saying that it was vegetables so I could have it. I stayed firm and just continued my stare.

Then she says to me: “I’m not trying to get you to eat it; I just want you to try it.”

I really don’t know what on Earth that is supposed to mean. To try a food is to eat a food and it baffles me why she would insist that I eat something I don’t want to eat considering I am struggling with my weight. We had just eaten dinner for crying out loud. If I wanted any food I would have gotten up and helped myself to the abundant buffet. I take that back; it doesn’t baffle me, really. I know what this is and it is about power and control.

She did the same with the pies and cakes. She asked me several times to eat the desserts she prepared. I didn’t want to eat them because I was full and I was trying to be healthy. That didn’t make her happy so she took every opportunity to get me to eat them.

The last straw, and you’d think I would have hit this point a long time ago, was when we were getting ready to leave. She pulled me aside, away from my supporters, and waved cookies right under my nose. She quietly begged me to eat them, stating that they would not hurt me. I did nothing. I stood there in horror, trembling with anger, and I realized that she does not care for my health. I looked into this woman’s eyes and understood that she does not care a thing about how I feel. Telling her “no” is nothing more than a double dog dare and she will do anything to win, even if that entails guilt, pain and lies. Her desire to exert control over the family is overwhelming. It is about power and control for her. In a weird way it is a form a rape. The more I say “no” the harder she pushes the food into my mouth. Cookies and cakes, peanut brittle and pecan pie are her penises. She is my food rapist and I am tired of having to endure her constant raping of my stomach and soul. God love her, I’m tired of it.

She has some kind of mind control over this family and enjoys seeing people suffer at her hands. For some unknown reason my family continues to put up with it. Years ago we traveled the state of Missouri going to Aunt Bessie’s on Christmas Eve, then on to see the extended family an hour away, and finally to my maternal grandmother’s home two hours away, where we spent the night and celebrated Christmas that next morning. We have Christmas at our only at our house now, because years ago my family said they wanted to be home for Christmas. That is, except for Aunt Bessie. We still do her little ditty even though no one wants to. Well I for one am done with it. She lied to me about the menu and then tried to rape me with her cookies, cake, and guacamole. I am drawing the line and I will not attend that party next year. I am done and there will be no backing out of it, come what may.

I have finally had my fill.

What To Do; What To Do

The holiday buffets of butter are a compulsive overeater’s deathtrap. A food addict, especially a new one, just cannot handle or tolerate a smorgasbord of croissant-wrapped smokies, bacon greased green bean casserole, and pecan pie. Judas Priest!

I have several of these parties that I am obligated to go to during the holiday season. They are all the same hog trough of goodies and delights. Some things have changed this year. My family and friends are changing their parties to have more healthy food choices. Some are even getting rid of the buffet altogether. The truth is, I never thought anyone would change their traditions for me, so I never bothered asking. They took it upon themselves to make changes and to tell me about it ahead of time in order to relieve my stress.

My friends Paul and Linda are having a healthy vegetarian buffet.
My parents are discontinuing the famous breakfast buffet entirely.

Aunt Bessie is a different story. She is worried that we won’t have dressing and dips for her party. My parents and I talked to her about this party. I didn’t ask her to change her party, but I did say that I would not attend. It’s a daylong buffet event with all the traditional Christmas dinner and appetizers to boot. Here’s a sample menu:

1. Turkey
2. Ham
3. Dressing
4. Turkey gravy
5. Mashed potatoes with cream
6. Sweet potato casserole with glazed pecans
7. Green beans
8. Salad
9. Corn
10. Corn casserole
11. Pecan Pie
12. Pumpkin Pie
13. Cheesecake
14. Peanut brittle
15. Sugar cookies
16. Croissants
17. Chips and salsa
18. Crackers and cream cheese dip
19. Vegetable dip
20. Vegetables
21. Nacho dip with chips

All of this food is out and about all day for a mere eight adults, one teenage girl, and three children. I think my Aunt Bessie is a bit obsessed with food. It’s been this way every year since before I was born. It is another tradition to take that food and make us take it home so we can continue to stuff our gullet. It’s just too much. So I told her that I could not attend these types of parties anymore. I offered to stay at my parents’ home and relax. I really don’t mind doing that. The idea of attending this event is terrifying to me. I have explained (and explained and explained) that these appetizers and other traditional foods are death to me. I literally eat all day long, even after I am stuffed to the gills. I just can’t help myself.

Well she’s decided that she will change her party, a very gracious thing to do. She will have turkey, salad and green beans. She even agreed to leave off the pies, cookies and dips. I couldn’t believe and I didn’t’ believe it. I know my Aunt Bessie and she will say one thing and then do another. That is proving true. She’s decided that we must have dressing and she let is slip that she already made the pecan pie and is making a cheesecake. The cheesecake you see will have Splenda in it and that I should just not eat the crust. Well, I can’t just not eat the crust. It doesn’t work that way for me. Then she announced that she is working on a healthy dip for me. If she were doing it for me, then she wouldn’t do it at all. She keeps saying that she is worried that we will not have enough food to eat. Mind you, no one wants that much food. They have said as much. It’s not really for us; it’s for Aunt Bessie.

We won’t just have turkey and salad and green beans. We will have croissants and pies and dressing and there will be cookies because Heaven knows that the kids need cookies. My Mother already told her that if she makes all that stuff, then it would be the last time Aunt Bessie gets to host the event. I have to say, I kind of like it when other folks stick up for me. It makes me feel loved. I do not like causing controversy with Aunt Bessie. She’s in her late 80’s and I don’t want to upset her, but her food – her love – is killing me and she refuses to stop. I wish all of this didn’t have to revolve around food so much. I wish we could just be together and enjoy one another’s company rather than the food. Company is love. I like that much better.