After doing some reflection on the roots of this blog and where to go forward with it, I’ve decided to start a series about my food struggles titled, “Guilty w/Food.”
Is it too personal? Maybe.
Should I do it? Questionable.
As scary it is to admit to having struggles with food (hopefully my parents never get a hold of this) I think it will help with holding myself accountable in a semi-tangible form, as well as be a progress archive to look back on in the future.
Since the end of my freshman year, it seems like any time I am going through a particularly difficult or emotional period, that I find myself at Korea House, a restaurant on Hilyard.
Regardless of where I’ve lived, I would either be on campus or purposely make the trek there. I’d agonizingly go over the menu, weighing the value to price with each dish but always ending up getting their soft tofu hot pot or their kimchi udon (I would recommend their soft tofu hot pot more than their kimchi udon, to be honest). I think even at this point in time the owners and their son vaguely recognize me…
The epiphany occurred to me a couple weeks ago, when I was eating dinner at said restaurant with my friend. She was in the middle of laughing at me visibly at my wit’s end about how much stress I was under. I looked into the plate of kimchi udon I was eating and thought of the last time I had eaten there.
During the middle of fall term, I remember the day had been particularly difficult; so I splurged on getting two dishes, instead of my normal budget of one dish. I ordered one of their noodle dishes that used those instant ramen noodles, plus an order of their seafood pancake.
The evening was really busy so I had to take the last open two-person table. I remember being so gleeful in the occasion to just pig out, and in retrospect this was where the intersection of I hadn’t really been eating well and consistently met my downfall of eating too much.
It’s wild to remember the state I was in, because I remember getting looks for having so much food as just one person. Looking back, I feel almost sick thinking about how easy it was to shovel so much food into my mouth and remembering I was thinking, “you’re not going to get another chance to eat like this since it’s so unhealthy.”
Side note: I continued to eat unhealthy for most of the rest of term.
I even remember eating here for the first time and being really pleased that I had found such a great spot for Korean food – albeit further away from where I lived, at the time. Although I don’t believe this is the best Korean food in Eugene – I think that title belongs to Cafe Seoul on the opposite side of campus – but it has some great staples to soak your sadness in.
I love their Banchan, seafood pancake, tofu stew and Joppchae. If you’re ever in the mood for some moody Korean food, this is your place. Honestly, the place is great. I ever ate there again this last Wednesday, where the food doesn’t disappoint.
The point of this kind of post is to give a perspective on unhealthy eating. I think a lot about how eating disorders are so quick to become monsters a lot of us keep under our beds, that maybe sharing mine would help. Don’t be alarmed if I say we should get Korean food – only be concerned if I am insistent on going to Korea House.
I won’t ask what your personal food monsters are – that’s a lot for the Internet. I’ve honestly been sitting on this post and others similar for a long time because it never seemed good to be so… vulnerable. But here I am, bearing all.
What do you think of your monsters? How have you overcame them, if you have, or what are your thoughts on the complex relationship with yourself and food? I’d love to know whatever thoughts you’re open to sharing.