All my life, I’ve been called a slow eater. Mainly, this came from my dad and brother who were annoyed at having to sit through meal after meal with me.

A week ago, I was at dinner with Bri. I ordered mac and cheese and Brussels sprouts (#balanced) and ate maybe half of each. She asked if I didn’t like my meal and I said I liked it just fine, but that I had eaten as much as I wanted and I was finished. She commended me, saying how she’ll just eat and eat until she’s too full to move. And for the first time, I didn’t feel shame about my weird eating habits.

I am a super slow eater and I rarely eat big portions. When I eat, I will take a bite of food, put down my utensil, and then fully chew and swallow my food before I pick up my fork or spoon again. I’m not saying this to brag because it’s a fully subconscious activity on my part. I don’t think about it. It’s just the way I eat. Maybe it’s due to having a small mouth and an intense gag reflex—I have to eat smaller portions to make sure I don’t gag on my food. (Am I a baby?!) But it also means I am being more cognizant of my fullness levels, and when I reach it, I am done. And that means I am never a member of the “clean your plate” club.

You’d think this would be a good thing, but it actually makes me feel very self-conscious. I hate when a waiter asks if I didn’t enjoy a meal because I didn’t eat the whole thing or even most of the whole thing. And then when they ask if I want a box, I’ll always say yes even if I know I will be throwing that box right in the trash when I get home. (#enneagram9 behavior) I want to be someone who enjoys food as much as the people around me, but I typically eat enough to feel satisfied that I’ve nourished myself and then I’m done.

And I’m not even one of those “food is fuel” sorts of people. I enjoy food. I think about it constantly. I look forward to a good meal. I just eat less of it than other people for the most part.

I’ve always hated eating with other people. Part of it is that I’m an extremely picky eater and I’m always worried that I won’t be able to find something to eat at a particular restaurant or someone will offer to make dinner and they’ll make something I can’t eat. The other part is that I don’t eat a lot in one sitting. (I feel the need to keep stressing that I’m not bragging about this; it feels more like a curse than a blessing. As you can plainly tell from this post, I wish I was someone who could eat a lot!) So then I feel bad that I didn’t eat as much as I “should” have if someone made me dinner, or that I’m wasting their money if they have offered to pick up the tab. (If I’m paying for my own meal, I don’t care if I’m leaving most of the meal on my plate, but I feel terrible if someone else is paying.)

You’d think that someone who isn’t a foodie and doesn’t eat large portions of food would be straight-sized, wouldn’t you? I think there are a few reasons why I’ve still managed to gain weight even with my slow-eating tendencies:

1. I’m not eating nourishing foods. I’m eating pizza many times a week. I’m consuming lots of sugar and soda and fried foods. I may not eat big portions of them, but it means I’m taking in less fruits and vegetables.
2. I have tried to become someone who isn’t a slow eater. I feel self-conscious about it so I pretend that I want to clean my whole plate and eat far beyond what’s comfortable to me.
3. My eyes are always bigger than my stomach. If a friend suggests ice cream, I will always say yes and then get a big scoop that is way too much for me, but I’ll finish it because I don’t want to a) make a friend feel weird about eating their entire portion and b) encourage lots of questions as to why I’m not finishing my food.

I also realize that the way we eat can be a very fraught topic because of eating disorders. We all bring our own biases into food—those who have struggled with eating disorders may just want to ensure I am not engaging in disordered eating patterns. Those who are trying to heal from disordered eating may feel self-conscious about their eating habits for an entirely different reason. I think the point I’m trying to make here is not that we should never make comments on the way people are eating, especially if it’s coming from a place of concern, but to a) never do it in a group setting at a dinner table and b) recognize that we all have different eating preferences and it’s okay if my way is much different than yours.

Ever since Bri mentioned how great it is to eat the way I do, I’ve been thinking about what it could mean to fully immerse myself in being a slow eater. Instead of feeling self-conscious about the way I eat, I can just accept that this is my preference. I’ve always gotten comments on my eating habits, which is always interesting because I don’t think we make the same comments when straight-size people eat big portions (or even small portions). But people do seem to feel like commenting on the way fat people eat is fair game. But that’s why I will keep eating or will order that dessert even when I’m full because I don’t want comments aimed in my direction. And maybe it’s time to finally meet those comments head-on. (A very scary thing for this non-confrontational gal to do.)

There is freedom, though, in eating the way you want to eat. No matter what that looks like or what other people will think of you. I found that freedom when I stopped dieting and now, again, when I realized that eating the way I eat (very slowly, being a picky eater, and eating half of what’s on my plate) is okay.

Are you a slow eater?