Bone Broth is *NOT* Soup

So, you may have seen the video of a certain Goop Heiress discussing her so-called “Wellness Routine” wherein she describes HIGHLY DISORDERED eating. I’m not going to link the video, it’s harmful, but I am going to say this.

Bone broth is NOT soup.
Vegetables are NOT a meal.

I’ve been writing in my recovery journal and found a note from a few months ago that said “A banana is NOT a meal. A banana is a snack.”

Under that I asked myself, “What IS a meal?” (These are some humbling and embarrassing questions at 40). Well, a MEAL involves multiple food groups, I told myself. Traditionally a protein, a grain, produce, and some fat.

Soup could be considered a meal if it has those things in it. Broth is a MF’ing ingredient. Not soup. Not a meal.

That video fucked me up. As you may know, I’m mid-recovery and while the spiky, cheeky, determined-to-recover part of me rages against the video, the latent, nefarious, disordered part of me keeps whispering “SEE.”

“See– it’s possible to need LESS.”
“See- LESS is more.”
“See- she’s being celebrated for this.”
“See- the interviewer isn’t challenging her.”
“See- it’s part of WELLNESS.”

Intermittent fasting has long been a dog whistle for disordered eating, because the intermittent fast is what naturally happens after dinner, before breakfast. Break (the) fast.

I’m gonna keep climbing out of this rabbit hole. Even though I’m tempted to crawl back down. I know what’s down there. It’s familiar, it seems safe, but it’s trying to kill me. It wants me so small I disappear entirely and you know what?

I am TIRED of making less of myself.
I crave SOFTNESS. I yearn for gentleness.

I’ve spent decades trying to get a “hard body”, but I don’t want to be hard. I am not stone. I am not a machine. I am a human.

So if you find yourself tempted back into the darkness, if your issues got reactivated recently… just know that you are not alone. Know that you deserve freedom. We both do. We all do.

I’m angry at Goopeth, but I’m also really fucking sad for her. I’m more angry at all the enablers and the interviewers and those who normalize this type of self harm.

I haven’t eaten yet. So I’m off to chew something. You chew too.

You are loved. By me and others. Take up space. We are no better or worse than most other humans.

xox