Donuts for dinner
The Naughty and Nice season of eating
I had two donuts for dinner the other day.
In the car.
With black coffee.
At 4:30pm.
Is this normal for me?
Nope!
Is it okay to do sometimes?
Yep!
Is this post about what I eat or don’t eat—when, where, or how?
Not at all!
Here’s the full donuts-for-dinner story.
I was between appointments one late afternoon recently and hadn’t fed myself very well that day. By 4:30 pm, I was unusually hungry. There was also anxiety involved—one appointment was with a therapist, the other was with a challenging patient.
So when I drove past Jolly Donuts, I impulsively pulled into the parking lot.
I walked into a shop I’d never been to before and ordered two different donuts I had never tried. The side order of black coffee? That was a no-brainer. I needed something to wash the lumps of dough down!
The woman behind the counter could not have been sweeter. She was attentive, called me “honey,” and went beyond what was required. She bagged the first donut, then took down the entire basket of the second kind so she could see them better.
“I want to get you the biggest one,” she said, carefully searching for the largest donut (frosted buttermilk, if you were curious).
“Oh—actually,” I said gently, “could you find the smallest one for me?”
I knew full well that the second donut was completely impulsive and totally unnecessary. But the order had already been placed, she was in the middle of it. Donuts for dinner was about to happen.
“Is it for you?” she asked. “If so, you don’t have to worry about a thing, honey. You look great. You could have four donuts if you wanted!”
I received her comment as the compliment it was, then mumbled a response—mostly to validate my request—even though she’d already walked far enough away that she probably didn’t hear me.
“It’s not about the looks. It’s about the feels. Donuts tend to sit in my belly for a long time, and today, I don’t really want that feeling.”
THIS is the part of the story that matters.
The donuts weren’t the problem. They weren’t a “bad choice,” a lack of discipline, or a moral failure disguised as “dinner.”
They were simply information I needed to pay attention to.
I was under-fed and under prepared.
I was anxious and unsettled.
I was moving fast between emotional and professional containers.
Of course donuts made sense in that moment. Not one, but two!
I coached myself through the moment of truth: when eating well is important to you, it isn’t about eating perfectly. It’s about responding honestly.
Sometimes honesty looks like a nourishing meal with all the colors of the rainbow, at a table.
Sometimes it looks like donuts in a car with coffee.
Both can be true.
What was interesting was the moment I asked for the smaller donut.
Not because I was trying to restrict.
Not because I thought I shouldn’t have it.
But because I know my body and how certain foods land in me. I knew I still had a long evening ahead—two appointments, emotions to hold, energy to sustain.
That request wasn’t about control.
It was about the relationship I had—with myself, my body, and my future self.
I’m telling you this story now because we’re heading into the season when these moments naturally multiply. After all, ‘tis the season of eating, connection, and indulgence.
Holiday eating can be challenging for a lot of us: more food, more sugar, more gatherings, more emotions, less routine.
When old diet mentality sneaks back in, it often sounds like:
“I’ll be good later.”
“I’ve already blown it, so what’s the point?”
“This is a special occasion.”
“I don’t want to disappoint the host.”
This kind of all-or-nothing thinking is often the spark that turns one moment into an eating landslide, self sabotage, the downward spiral.
One way to prevent the spiral is surprisingly simple: give yourself permission.
Permission to eat the “forbidden” foods.
Permission to enjoy them.
Permission to be naughty—AND nice.
Naughty, in the sense that you don’t need to follow food rules or earn your pleasure.
Nice, in the sense that you stay in respectful conversation with your body and your future self.
Not the punitive future self who says,
“See? You shouldn’t have eaten that.”
But the caring one who asks,
“How do I want to feel in an hour? Tomorrow? A week from now?”
That’s both how to feel about yourself, and how to feel in yourself.
Respecting your body doesn’t mean saying no to donuts—or holiday cookies, pie, or stuffing.
It means saying yes with presence and intention.
Yes, I can have this.
Yes, I get to enjoy it.
And yes, I can choose an amount that supports how I want to feel next.
That’s not restriction. That’s attunement. That’s self-respect.
And yes, as corny as it sounds, it is a form of SELF LOVE from SELF AWARENESS.
The freedom isn’t in eating everything without awareness.
The freedom is in trusting yourself enough to choose—again and again—without shame, without rules, and without abandoning your body or your future self in the process.
Sometimes that’s two donuts for dinner.
Sometimes it IS the biggest one.
Sometimes it’s something else entirely.
Promise me this:
When it comes to eating, prioritize how you want to feel physically and emotionally—not just in the moment, but later, too.
The “Food Police” inside your head does not get a vote.
The “Eating Coach” inside your head does.
And she’s all in on you!
With love and gratitude,
xoxo
Kit