It’s safe to eat // it’s safe to receive

showing my younger self safety through feeding my foster baby

Palm Springs, CA x Marielle Chua

Tune into the audio version of this essay here:

The other day I told our foster baby that she couldn’t have any more food. At dinner she ate a pile of chicken, vegetables, and an egg. I thought she’d had enough.

I stood up from my chair and turned down the hall. Nic called out from the table, Ashley, I know how much conditioning you have around eating. I really don’t want you to unconsciously pass that on to her.

My body froze in the hallway. After a couple of seconds I took a deep breath and turned around. There at our dining room table sat Nic and our children finishing up their meal, with our foster baby signing for more.

Next came a pang in the center of my chest. 

Growing up I received very confusing messaging about eating. I was told to finish everything on my plate but that being thin was ideal. I was instructed to eat small, slow bites like a proper lady, but not become so skinny my ribs poked out. I learned that it was shameful to ask for a second serving of dessert, but sneaking Snickers bars or Thinmints late at night when nobody could see was acceptable. 

I knew the exact experience Nic had in his mind when he called out for me to rethink my approach. Years ago while at Thanksgiving dinner back in my hometown, he was served a slice of pumpkin pie that was twice the size of mine. Nic turned to me with a surprised look on his face. He quickly scanned the dinner table clocking that all of the men had been served much larger slices of pie than the women. He was shocked, but I had already clocked and accepted the disparity. It felt normal.

You’re right babe, I responded to him as my shoulders rounded forward. It’s uncomfortable to get called out, even in a loving way.

I made my way back to the kitchen to get our foster baby something else to eat. She wanted more, so I gave her more. And whether it was because she was still hungry or needed some comfort from her tiny jaw that is currently ballooned with four new teeth coming in, it didn’t matter. I needed to give it to her. 

The truth is, for the last couple of weeks I have been secretly tracking how much she eats in ways I never have with our sons. When Sol and Zen were babies it was my personal mission to get them as big as possible. After all, fat babies are the healthiest, or so all the books about infant nutrition told me.

When she arrived with us at five weeks old she was severely underweight with blood in her stools. She was not given formula at night and was very sick from neglect. It became my personal mission to get her as fat and happy as possible, just like with Sol and Zen. But now, at fifteen months old, something is shifting that I haven’t been able to put my finger on until recently. All of the sudden, food stuff from my childhood is front and center.

Lately I’ve been considering that food is one of our most basic needs. From the time we are in utero, our food flows freely to us. If we are fortunate, our birth givers have adequate nutrition, support, and care, allowing our tiny bodies to develop without restriction to sustenance. If we remain fortunate, this feeding on demand continues through breast or bottle as our bodies learn to regulate nutrition input based on what’s needed to grow.

How we are fed in these critical days and months impacts our earliest beliefs about our needs, how consistently we can expect them to be met, and by whom. This can potentiate our physiology with a safety or fear imprint. A safety imprint leaves our nervous system open to receive while a fear imprint leaves our nervous system closed to receiving.

When I write it out it seems so simple, and in some ways it is, as long as we get what we need in our early months of development. Unfortunately, some of us had hiccups along the way, from malnutrition in utero or infancy to being put on strict feeding schedules to accommodate the lives and schedules of our caregivers. I am not here to pass judgment on parents who need to bottle feed or work, I’ve done both as a mother. I am also not here to pass judgment on birth givers who were unable to offer their children adequate nutrition¹.

What I am curious about is the connection between our first experiences with receiving and where we might have picked up the core messaging, it’s safe (or not) to receive. 

When any aspect of our environment is over-controlled, especially in regards to food (I say ‘over’ here because I am not speaking to necessary environmental controls, like keeping children away from a hot stove or not allowing them to eat ice cream for breakfast every day), it creates a space where it isn’t safe to receive. If you ever received a “you must eat everything on your plate” command, you have a sense of what I am talking about, especially if it meant eating past the point of being full to clear your plate or refusing to eat at all because it felt like too much pressure.

When we aren’t given opportunities to listen to our bodies as children around food or are being pressured to eat too much or not enough, it makes sense that we struggle later in life to understand our deeper needs and wants. In those early years, the implicit messages we get are that we cannot trust our bodies, we cannot trust ourselves. 

This doubt we carry can make our window of tolerance for receiving narrow. It can make it difficult, and in some cases scary to receive because we lack the trust that we can handle whatever we choose to let in. We feel as if we will be flooded or overwhelmed when we receive. We might also feel that as soon as we take something in, we must find a way to get rid of it as quickly as possible. This shows up like purging, deflecting compliments, or disassociation.

I am just beginning to unpack my programming around food thanks to our foster baby. I am also in the early months of diving deep into my programming around receiving. These days I am sitting with a deep curiosity, wondering how I can allow this conditioning to change. The guiding question I am asking each day is, if receiving is not what I think it is, what else would it be?

So far, I’ve been met with intense resistance to this inquiry. I’ve thrown up my hands in opposition more than once. I’ve told my therapist several times that I am utterly broken and probably incapable of receiving more than I am at this moment. She doesn’t believe me, which is at times frustrating and other times encouraging. 

But there are glimmers that tell me I’m on the right track. 

I notice my body softening when I feed our foster baby.
I notice less tension in my stomach when I ask Nic for a hug. 
I notice my jaw relax when a friend offers support.
I notice my ribs expand when I receive a fuller breath.

I am early in the change process of learning to receive. And, I know our foster baby won’t feel safe receiving in her own body unless I keep practicing feeling safe in mine. 

So, I will keep nourishing her. I will keep finding healing in her plump cheeks and happy giggles and requests for more. With every sign that she feels safe enough to receive, I will take it as a lesson to feel safe to give to her, and to receive safety for my younger self.

1. There are many systemic issues at play that prevent parents from accessing nutrient dense foods.