I enjoy food, but I rarely yearn for specific items. Typically, I lean towards savory rather than sweet, often opting for protein-rich choices like cheese, meat, eggs, or nuts. Sure, I can devour several slices of pizza when the mood strikes, and I could easily polish off a pan of brownies in one sitting. However, I’ve become attuned to my body’s reactions, and my eating habits have always followed a certain predictability.
This predictability stems partly from routine—thanks, OCD!—and partly from learning which foods leave me feeling energized versus those that make me sluggish. For instance, too much sugar or refined carbs tends to give me headaches and a general sense of irritability. Recently, though, my usual eating patterns have gone off course. My go-to snacks have lost their appeal, while I find myself indulging in chocolate and enriched bread more than ever before. Although I strive to listen to my body, my eating habits are far from typical—yours might be too. Don’t beat yourself up or chalk it up to a lack of willpower; our cravings are rooted in science. If you’re yearning for comfort food, you’re definitely not alone.
Right now, I’m indulging in cake—after all, I just had a birthday, and I can’t let that chocolate cake linger into next week! I’m reaching for Cheez-Its, spoonfuls of Nutella, chips, and sugary cereals. While these foods aren’t inherently “bad,” they’re not part of my usual diet, and my intake has skyrocketed.
Initially, I felt frustration. My heart—or rather, my stomach—was demanding what it desired, yet I found myself chastising my habits, influenced by diet culture and constant ads for weight loss and fitness, which flooded my feeds. I felt a strange shame for not adhering to a “clean” diet. Not only was I struggling with my food choices, but I also felt unbalanced and out of control. I craved sugar, but it left me feeling worse. What was going on?
Like everyone, I’m navigating unemployment, homeschooling my kids, a pandemic, and the uncertainty that comes with it all. Taking a moment to reflect, I recognized the multitude of stressors at play and reminded myself to practice self-kindness. It’s not just about what I’m eating; my brain is responding to a high-stress environment.
In essence, we’re amidst a global crisis, and my brain is urging me to engage in rewarding behaviors. My body seeks comfort food because I’m feeling incredibly uncomfortable right now.
Stress has a peculiar impact on our appetite. In moments of high tension—like before an important meeting or presentation—we often lose our appetite as adrenaline courses through our veins, conserving energy for survival. However, prolonged stress, such as what we’re experiencing now, triggers the release of cortisol, which ramps up our hunger signals and our urge to eat. But when we’re riding the cortisol wave, we’re unlikely to crave healthy options like salads or cheese sticks; instead, we lean towards sugary treats like cookies and cake—foods that break down into sugar quickly and prompt a dopamine release in our brains, the “happy hormone” we’re all chasing right now.
Dopamine motivates us to seek out what brings us joy—whether that’s a favorite song, a workout, or a slice of pizza. While it’s a feel-good chemical, it can also lead to patterns of addiction. As someone recovering from alcohol dependency, I understand how substances can escalate over time to achieve the same dopamine response. I’m not implying that your desire for baked goods or carbs stems from addiction, but it’s worth considering if you have a predisposition to such challenges. (If you’re concerned about how the pandemic is affecting your mental health and your coping mechanisms are feeling out of control, please seek help.)
Stress can also disrupt our sleep, leading to increased hunger. During sleep deprivation, ghrelin levels rise while leptin levels drop, heightening our desire to eat. Plus, when we’re not getting adequate rest, a lipid called endocannabinoid increases in our bloodstream, acting similarly to marijuana on the brain, making eating feel more pleasurable, especially at night. That’s why we might find ourselves reaching for ice cream instead of a protein shake.
It’s perfectly fine to allow your comfort food cravings to take the lead without letting diet culture or societal norms stigmatize those needs. We’re navigating uncharted waters, and we don’t need to add more pressure by punishing ourselves for our eating habits. Do what brings you comfort. If food doesn’t provide relief, that’s okay too—there are other sources of dopamine, such as exercise, meditation, sleep, music, and laughter.
We’re living in a topsy-turvy world, and if your eating habits feel off-kilter yet provide solace, that’s completely understandable. We all need a little relief during these trying times. For more insights on coping mechanisms and self-care, check out this blog post and consider resources like Make a Mom for further guidance on fertility and well-being, or WebMD for an excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
During challenging times, many people find themselves gravitating towards comfort food as a means of coping with stress. As we navigate uncertainties, it’s important to be kind to ourselves and recognize that our cravings are often rooted in biological responses to stress. Whether you’re reaching for cake or chips, it’s crucial to understand that these behaviors are common and part of our efforts to find comfort in an uncomfortable world.