Have you ever caught yourself rationalizing bad food choices because of a “special occasion?” I definitely have. A friend’s birthday party, the Super Bowl, a long day at work – these are just a few of the “special occasions” I have celebrated. But the question begs to be asked:
is your “special Occasion” Actually Special?
Jack and I had the pleasure of attending my best friend’s wedding in Savannah, GA this weekend. The ceremony took place in Greene Square under the lush canopy of Spanish moss and after a short ride on historic trolley cars, the rooftop reception transported guests back to the roaring 1920’s where we enjoyed a romantic evening overlooking downtown Savannah.
When Jack and I visit new cities, we love discovering unique local restaurants to try and find great pleasure in letting our taste buds run wild. Despite the obligations I had to tend to being a bridesmaid, I knew this short trip would be no different. The week or so leading up to the festivities, I found myself becoming a bit stressed about the amount of calories I’d be consuming and the lack of exercise I would be participating in during the extended weekend. My cut had been going really well and I was seeing progress in the mirror and on the scale alike. I didn’t want to ruin any of the progress I had been making!
And then it dawned on me.
This is a special occasion.
In the past, I would use that term very loosely. Generally, it was a way of rationalizing any random opportunity to indulge – whether in the form of extra cheese, one more glass of wine, or a
second third helping of dessert. And so it became that every time I was with friends, I would deem it a “special occasion.” The worst of it all was that as the “special occasions” became more frequent, the ability to have control over my diet weakened. If only I had taken a step back to think in those moments, I would have realized that even though those occasions were special for someone else, nothing about those events were special for me.
Someone else’s birthday celebration wasn’t a special occasion for me. The Super Bowl (and all of it’s glorious tailgating snacks) wasn’t a special occasion for me. And a company happy hour after a long week of work, while probably much needed, was definitely not a special occasion for me.
As my past crept up on me leading to my best friend’s wedding, I took a moment to really think about the occasion.
Is this a special occasion for me?
The answer was yes.
This was the most important weekend of my best friend’s life and after all of the trials and tribulations we have been through together over the years, I was honored to stand beside her on her wedding day as she married the man of her dreams. I chose to focus my attention on celebrating her, enjoy the quality time I was able to spend with Jack, and allow myself the freedom to explore all Savannah had to offer without worrying about calories or exercise. I let myself eat intuitively, I implemented some of my favorite tips, and I might have even ordered a cheeky late-night pizza delivery.
And as Monday morning dawned, I went right back according to plan. The special occasion was over, but the memories I made will last me forever.
And that is the true meaning of a special occasion.