Beyond the Scales

Part 1 | When Food Has Been Your Friend.

What happens when we take away a coping mechanism without helping someone find another?

Food has been my friend.

Through some of the darkest periods of my life, food has been there. It has comforted me, distracted me, lifted my spirits and helped me get through days when getting through was quite enough.

I am not ashamed of that. In fact, in some ways, I am grateful.

Of course, that relationship came with consequences. I spent many years struggling with my weight, and eventually lost over eight stone. Looking back, I recognise that my relationship with food was never simply about what I was eating. It was about what food was doing for me.

That is something I have been thinking about a great deal recently.

When eating is about more than hunger

We live in a world where food is woven into almost every part of our emotional lives. We celebrate with it, commiserate with it and reward ourselves with it. We reach for it when we are bored, tired, stressed, lonely or overwhelmed.

Sometimes we eat because we are hungry. Sometimes we do not even allow ourselves to get hungry. We are constantly topping up. A little something here, a snack there. Something because it is available, because it looks appealing, because it is there.

Somewhere along the way, it can become difficult to distinguish between physical hunger, habit and emotional need.

For those of us who have struggled with our weight for many years, these patterns can become deeply familiar. We may not even recognise what is happening until we begin to explore our relationship with food.

A behaviour can be unhelpful in the long term while still serving a very real purpose in the moment. Food may not have been solving my problems, but sometimes it made them feel a little more bearable.

What happens when the food noise goes quiet?

The growing conversation around weight loss medication, particularly Mounjaro, has prompted me to reflect on this from a different perspective.

I welcome any medical developments that help people who need them, and we are already seeing the life-changing impact of these medications. They can reduce hunger, increase feelings of fullness and quieten the constant thoughts about food that so many people describe as food noise. For some, the relief can be extraordinary.

It also leaves me wondering about those of us for whom food has served a deeper emotional purpose.

What happens when the desire to eat reduces, but the feelings that led us towards food are still there? What happens when the food noise goes quiet, but the pain remains?

If I had been taking medication during some of my darkest days, what would I have turned to instead?

I genuinely do not know. Perhaps I would have found healthier ways to cope. Perhaps I would have reached out for support or discovered new skills sooner. Perhaps I would have searched for something else to provide the comfort that food had previously offered.

It is a question, not a prediction, but one I believe deserves attention.

We need to understand what food has been doing for us

When we help someone change a behaviour, there is a responsibility to understand what that behaviour has been doing for them.

Where food has been a source of comfort, what will provide comfort now? Where eating has been a way of managing stress, what other ways of managing stress are available? Where food has been a distraction from difficult feelings, how do we help someone navigate those feelings when the distraction is no longer there?

This is not about suggesting that everyone who struggles with their weight has unresolved emotional pain. We all have different experiences, circumstances and needs.

For some of us, however, our relationship with food has been built over many years, and changing it requires more than changing what is on our plates. It requires understanding ourselves, recognising our patterns and developing new skills.

Those skills need to be practised, strengthened and practised again until they become part of how we live.

What does success really look like?

Having worked in weight management for many years, I have celebrated thousands of moments of success. The pounds lost, the stones achieved, the clothes that fit again and the improvements in health. Those achievements matter enormously.

I have also witnessed transformations that cannot be measured on a set of scales.

Someone recognising an emotional eating pattern for the first time. Someone navigating a difficult week without automatically turning to food. Someone finding the confidence to ask for help.

Someone discovering that they can enjoy a celebration without food being the centre of it. Someone recognising that some occasions genuinely are about food, enjoying those special moments without guilt, and then returning to their usual way of eating.

Someone beginning to believe that they deserve to look after themselves.

These moments may never appear on a weight loss chart, but they can change the course of someone's life. Perhaps we need to give them just as much attention.

Learning to meet our needs differently

I have come to understand that changing our relationship with food is not about removing pleasure from eating. I still love food. I still enjoy celebrations, favourite meals and the comfort of something delicious.

The difference is learning that food does not have to carry the responsibility for making everything feel better.

We can develop other ways to comfort ourselves, manage difficult emotions, celebrate, connect and find enjoyment. For some people, that learning happens through group support. For others, coaching, counselling or other forms of professional support may be appropriate.

There is no single route, and medication and behaviour change are certainly not mutually exclusive. In fact, where medication creates the space for someone to explore their relationship with food and develop new skills, what a wonderful opportunity that could be.

My concern is that we do not allow that opportunity to be missed.

Whether someone is using medication or not, lasting improvements in wellbeing deserve more than a focus on weight alone.

Beyond the scales

My own weight loss changed my life. When I look at where I am today, however, the number on the scales is only a small part of the story.

The confidence I have developed, the opportunities I have embraced, the people I have connected with, the skills I have learned and the life I now participate in. Those are the things that make me emotional when I look back at how far I have come.

Perhaps that is why this conversation matters so much to me. I know what it feels like to need food for reasons that have very little to do with hunger. I know what it feels like when food has been your friend, and I know that learning to meet those needs differently can be about so much more than losing weight.

When we take away someone's coping mechanism, what are we putting in its place?

The need for comfort, reassurance or relief does not necessarily disappear simply because the behaviour changes. There is a responsibility to help people develop the skills and support they need to meet those needs differently.

Success is not simply about losing the weight. It is also about gaining the skills, confidence and support to live a life in which food can be enjoyed, without being expected to make everything better.

Perhaps, for some of us, that is where the real transformation begins.

Sarah Lawrence

Slimming World Consultant | Coach | Author