Last week, I was challenged to think about what “health” means to me.  That’s a funny thing to think about for me, because my definition has evolved drastically over the last few years.  In the past, I would have most likely considered “health” to be the absence of sickness.

In fact, I would have considered myself extremely healthy all throughout my childhood.  Despite my obvious awkwardness (school pictures are the worst!), I was in shape, active, and had plenty of energy.  Even though I never truly loved sports, I played soccer, I was a cheerleader, and I danced in high school.  I was rarely treated for sickness, though I took the occasional round of antibiotics.  I did suffer from seasonal allergies, but taking prescription meds cured that issue.  I also had high cholesterol off and on, but no one was overly concerned because I was healthy otherwise.

Even though I lived in a household where regular family dinners were valued, I did not have good eating habits.  I didn’t enjoy every meal because I was an incredibly picky eater.  If it was considered healthy, I was almost guaranteed to not like it.  I even remember the weekly dinner schedule my Daddy would type up and stick to the refrigerator.  He put forth so much effort at trying to provide delicious meals for us.  Of all the options, do you know what my favorite meal was?  Tuna Noodle Casserole.  Oh, soooooo yummy.  Made with ooey, gooey Velveeta cheese and delicious, fluffy egg noodles.  Of all the options, yes, that was my favorite.

My Daddy actually cooked and baked quite a lot.  He is definitely the one who gave me a love of baking.  I remember being the envy of my friends because I brought homemade brownies to school, not just the boxed variety.  To this day, I’m still extremely picky about brownies and all baked goods!  He made homemade breads, biscuits, waffles, cookies, etc., and they were always the best.  He’d experiment with each recipe, altering it slightly each time, until he got it just right.  He was well known for his baking and kitchen skills.  It’s still one of the things about him that I remember with sweetness.

While growing up, I ate a ton of white flour and pasta.  I loved it and would chow down at every opportunity.  I also loved sweets.  I remember buying a Hershey’s chocolate bar from the snack counter almost every day of high school.  In addition to homemade baked goods at home, we had every kind of sweet you can imagine.  Oreos, Swiss Cake Rolls, Oatmeal Cream Pies, Lucky Charms, Little Debbie cakes … we had all the stuff.  Likewise, I loved to eat chips, hot dogs, and soda.  I ate lots of packaged foods.  I was a true child of the 80’s.  And the 90’s.  If it was a carb, I most likely wanted to eat it.

I rarely remember eating fresh vegetables.  I’m sure they were served at family meals, but I don’t remember them.  Or I refused to eat them.  Or both.  I do remember being turned off to the stringiness of canned asparagus and the smell of boiling brussels sprouts.  I was so picky though, I imagine I probably didn’t give most veggies an honest try.  Fortunately I’ve since seen the light, and love almost all fresh veggies.

I don’t write all of this to poke fun at my food choices.  I do write them to set the stage and share the lifetime of eating habits that led up to my holistic health journey.  I was eating what many people were eating.  Convenience food and snacks were completely normal and expected.  Carb and sugar overload were commonplace.  At least for me.  The problem was that I ate way too much of both.

And yes, by all accounts at that time, I was a pretty healthy kid.  I grew up to be a fairly healthy young woman, too.  Though I wasn’t providing my body with many nutrients, I had such a fast metabolism that I could eat as much of whatever I wanted.  Or, so I thought.  That translated to eating all of the delicious, “well-balanced” food option at the college cafeteria, as well as all the packaged foods I could buy from the Super Walmart to microwave in my dorm room.  In fact, microwaving boxed mac & cheese (before it was  available in individual cups) was a science that I had fully perfected.  What I didn’t realize back then was that being a carboholic would eventually catch up with me and start causing trouble not far into my adulthood.

READ PART II HERE