Chocolate Purgatory
Who is the real boss of me?
I gave up eating chocolate for a whole year — twice.
Both times, I genuinely believed I was doing it for health and discipline. I also wanted to believe I was creating a better — maybe even best — version of myself.
Like most experiences around “quitting” something that brings both joy and guilty pleasure, the first few days were the hardest. I had to be super intentional about every food choice. There was the great chocolate purge from the kitchen, of course. Journal entries filled with motivational mantras. A few public declarations — to friends, family, and followers — for accountability.
Meanwhile, I missed the simple routines: a square or two of dark chocolate after meals. Chocolate muffins and chocolate chip cookies as afternoon treats. No more chocolate-covered raisins. No hot cocoa. No chocolate pudding or brownies. I even had to forgo mole at Mexican restaurants.
Life felt colorless without the brown stuff.
As hard as it was, it felt like I was in control — which my mind equates with being good, healthy, and disciplined.
Isn’t that what we’re supposed to aim for?
But looking back, something else had control over me.
I had handed my power over to something neutral, inanimate, and edible.
I let chocolate become the boss of me.
What I didn’t realize then was that the restriction wasn’t coming from wisdom or my body — it was coming from my inner critic and inner food police, both steeped in diet culture and perfectionism.
They made chocolate the culprit. Deprivation was cleverly disguised as a challenge (which made my Double Virgo, Double Scorpio self VERY intrigued).
No matter how “successfully” I survived the year-long restriction, each time I came out of chocolate purgatory, I spent weeks eating all things chocolate.
Forget feeling in control. The cat came out of the bag — in droves.
This is the classic restriction–binge cycle.
Whatever “discipline” or “health” I thought I had created evaporated quickly. What’s more, I became a lesser version of myself — not the better (or best) one I was chasing. The inner critic got louder. The food police doubled down.
Instead of feeling in control, I felt the most out of control after those restrictive chapters. Because I allowed something else to have power over me, I became powerless.
The wilder part I discovered?
We don’t just do this with food — even though food feels like a socially acceptable place to practice control.
We do it with people. With relationships. With experiences.
We can easily give away our power and let something — or someone — determine our sense of safety, worth, and wellbeing. We outsource the love and connection that already live inside us.
Once you see this, you can’t unsee it.
If you’re still reading, and you resonate with my chocolate story, let’s make a different promise to ourselves.
Let’s stop giving our power away — to food, to people, to systems that require us to abandon ourselves in order to feel worthy of love and belonging.
Let’s stop using restriction and deprivation as a path to control.
Let’s stop outsourcing our sense of enoughness.
Let’s reject diet culture or any relationship, with food or otherwise, that leaves you feeling inadequate, rejected, abandoned, or dismissed.
Instead, embrace your inner knowing. Your inner foodie. Your sovereignty.
When in doubt, come back to this simple food mantra:
Eat foods— not too much, not too little — mostly what satisfies you.
Chocolate included. Always included.
With love and gratitude,
xoxo
Kit