Sugar: My Kryptonite

Powdered sugar might as well have been my heroin. One of my most distinct memories is climbing up onto the kitchen counter to reach the powdered sugar container and filling a glass. I snuck it up to my bedroom with a spoon and sat in the corner of my closet eating it. I blinked, and it was gone. This wasn’t something you did in front of others. I was embarrassed and ashamed – without understanding why those feelings were coming up – but I couldn’t stop myself. I don’t think at eight years old I could have articulated or comprehended the concept of addiction, but I was living it.

We didn’t have sugary cereal at home. Dessert was occasional, but as a general rule, we didn’t have junk food or sugary snacks. We didn’t have the money for it. In high school, access to sugar was still limited – candy bars at school sporting events or the occasional soda from a vending machine bought with babysitting money. In college, that changed. I had unlimited access to fountain soda and juices in the campus cafeteria, so I got to mainline sugar at least three times a day.

After college, I went to Overeaters Anonymous for a while. That’s when I realized this was really a sugar problem – not just an overeating problem, although there was some of that too. I tried repeatedly to stop eating sugar and experienced brief moments of success. The presence of other people embarrassed me enough to keep me from completely bingeing when sweets were around. When I did binge, it was when I thought no one was watching. There was nothing enjoyable about it – only soul-crushing embarrassment and a feeling of powerlessness.

The momentary brain euphoria of a dopamine hit disappears in a nanosecond. Dopamine is a reward response meant for survival – it just happens to light up the same parts of our brain when we use certain drugs or eat sugar. Some of us react more strongly than others.

When did rewards and treats become so tightly associated with sugary foods? How did our reward system get so fucked up? Treats used to be for special occasions. Now I see full-size candy bars handed to six-year-old soccer players – with a can of soda – as a reward for practice. Please understand how serious this is: when you soothe and reward children with sugar, there can be consequences.

I have a problem with sugar. It’s embarrassing to admit this publicly, but I know I’m not alone. I’ve met others with similar stories. For some of us, “just stop eating it” or “why can’t you control yourself?” isn’t a solution. It’s like asking a heroin addict to stop shooting up while the drug surrounds them daily.

Growing up, there was no active dialogue preparing me to make decisions about my health and well-being. I knew all the things I wasn’t supposed to do—they were drilled into my head. But the good? That was vague. “Eat a balanced diet.” What the fuck does that even mean? A plate broken into colored sections – of what food, exactly? How much of each? How often? Why weren’t those the things emblazoned into my memory?

As an adult, I now know refined sugar is my kryptonite. When I choose to ignore that and indulge anyway, there are consequences: inflammation, headaches, bloating, cravings that don’t quit – you name it.

I wish I’d had conversations growing up that helped me understand how to avoid feeding my beast. I lost so much time in bed recovering from debilitating migraines. I struggled with focus in school. My brain and body had trouble functioning because I was essentially fueling them with sugar – my drug – at every opportunity.

I’m not sure adolescents or young adults are equipped to fully understand cause and effect when it comes to how we feed our bodies. As adults, we have a better grasp, but our daily lives are heavily influenced by time, our partners and families, and whatever feels like the easiest choice.

I’ve chosen to remove refined sugar from my immediate access. Don’t get me wrong – coconut sugar, maple syrup, and dates still trigger me. But dramatically cutting the amounts in recipes helps. A lot.

My rule now is simple: if I eat something that makes me think about it afterward, I need to stay away from it.

I designed Electric Beets with my addiction in mind. I don’t want to live my life feeling constantly tempted. It sucks to feel like you’re about to do something you’ll regret – or worse, beat yourself up over later.

These are the things that help when I think I need sugar:

• Drink water

• Drink more water

• Cut up an apple and sprinkle cinnamon on it

• Ask myself: have I had any leafy greens today? If not, why not – and can I change that?

• Meditate

• Exercise

I do my best and treat every day as a clean slate. Some days I feel stronger than others. It helps to surround myself with love and to talk about it – with friends, family, and anyone willing to listen. Awareness, understanding, and communication are essential to building a support network. At the end of the day, I’m still the one who has to make the choices about what I eat.