To be a diplomat starts with being honest with myself

by danica drezner

Trigger warning: This article you are about to read reflects on sensitive mental health subjects such as grief, eating disorders, and alcoholism/addiction. Read when you are in a safe mental space.

I have been experiencing extreme writer’s block as I stare at my screen attempting to define what it means to be a “diplomat.” Sure, I have plenty of scribbled drafts that lay out the idea of a diplomat in the context of human diplomacy, but my time as an International Relations student is not what inspired Food Diplomat. It is not at the heart of how this project came into being. 

Since the beginning, I have said that to be a “diplomat” (in the context of human diplomacy) starts with oneself. It starts with the evolutionary journey we each set out on when we decide to let go of the past and learn who we are as an individual through exploring ourselves and others. However, I honestly have not fully understood exactly how to apply the mix of diplomatic ideas swirling in my head. 

Three years later, and I realize I’ve been ignoring a key component to this idea. It is not only about evolving oneself to become a diplomat, but it is also about learning how to become a diplomat to oneself. It is about being honest to oneself by not hiding from one’s story. Travel and enjoying food with people around the world is a wonderful thing, but at the end of the day, it has been escapism from the story that made me, me. The true story that I live in each day, but I subconsciously choose to hide from.

While nothing I have shared thus far has been a lie, it has only been the sweet stuff on the surface. I stand by my belief that immersing into new places through conversation is powerful, however, I believe what is more powerful is the story within that is begging to be let out. 

So now, as we go on this journey with the Food Diplomat Diaries, I will begin with myself. I’m not quite sure where this will go, and I know I will probably hurt some feelings along the way, but I can no longer hide. 

Here we go…

Tragedy struck with the sudden death of my Aunt when I was five years old. I remember the last time I saw her, walking out of a restaurant and saying goodbye, not knowing it would be the last opportunity I had to give her a hug. I try my best not to forget about her, closing my eyes to go back to those times we spent dancing and laughing at Elmo’s World on Sesame Street. All of the Christmases spent wearing a smile that an obnoxious dress and uncomfortable tights could not wipe off my face. She died in a car accident coming home from the bar, and when she died, so did the glue that once held my family together. 

I was young and could barely understand what was happening. I remember my cousin handing me tissues as I balled my eyes out in the Catholic church where I last saw her face before the burial. So, at the very least, I must have understood I would not get to see her again. Yet, what I did not understand was the crumbling of those I loved. My mother, my grandmother… My parents when they divorced shortly after. Life hit a wall, and I’m still processing this.

During this time, food is where I began to find peace within myself. It was the activity that bonded me to my grandmother when my mother felt distant. We spent many days together baking cookies off the recipe of a giant bag of Ghiradelli chocolate chips. Eventually, as she gained confidence that I would not burn the house down, I was passed the apron to make cookies while she was out delivering mail for the Post Office.

I fell in love with baking and cooking because of the joy it brought to the world around me during dark times. A warm, fresh-out-of-the-oven, cookie never failed to bring a smile to the faces of the people I loved and desperately wanted to feel love from. I suppose it was my way of begging for attention at the time. Yet, once I found how food was associated with happiness, I began to abuse it. I ate to numb myself in an attempt to feel something. I was essentially trying to fill myself up when what I was hungry for was not actually a cookie. I was hungry for love, attention, and affection. 

As I continued to numb myself mentally, it began to show physically. I gained weight and felt different from the other kids as well as the people I looked up to on television and magazines. I was ashamed and I punished myself with the self-attacking thoughts that I would never belong unless I looked like the other girls. I thought I would not be attractive to boys, and therefore the ripple permeated to feeling like I would not belong to love. 

I felt like a disappointment to my mother who was (and still is) a gorgeous, ultra-fit, bartender. My mother coped with her feelings through alcohol and exercise while I turned to food. As she battled alcoholism, she once confirmed the very thoughts I was hiding within myself. It was Christmas Day and my father dropped me off at her house where she was drunk and had friends over in an attempt to have a holiday where we had a “big family.” I remember crying in my room where she knocked on the door to sit down and talk. I was mortified she was drunk, and as she began to talk about how I needed to lose weight, I became even more mortified. I was ten years old and I felt awful about myself. This is around the age my binge eating turned into something even more… Something I will talk more about in the articles to come. 

As I continue my journey with Food Diplomat, I do so with the utmost transparency to my relationship with food and the wisdom I have unearthed from the experiences that taught me the importance of being a diplomat to myself. It is not about living in my past, but of letting it go so I can move forward and be the woman I aspire to be. Thank you for reading and thank you for being a part of this journey, I look forward to bringing you along. 

My mother has been five years sober and I could not be more proud and inspired by her strength. If you or a family member are experiencing alcohol/drug addiction, know there are resources available to you.

Eating disorders are more common than you may realize, so please know you are not alone if you are experiencing difficulties with body image and food. If you are searching for help, please check out this amazing resource guide made by nalgonapositivitypride.com. (@nalgonapositivitypride)

If you have a loved one experiencing an eating disorder, learn how to have a conversation through this fantastic article made by Gina Susanna and Haley Kennedy for iweighcommunity.com. (@i_weigh)

I will be working to compile more resources over time. However, please comment with any resources you’d like to share. Let’s heal together.