One winter night, nine years ago, I was a few bites into a pad gra prow with crispy pork when I felt like I was full. It made no sense because I hadn’t eaten in several hours.
A part of me still felt very hungry. When I tried forcing the food down, a technique my daycare teachers enforced when I was a child, I felt like I would be sick. I ran to the bathroom but there was nothing.
The night passed, but these incidents with my stomach kept coming back every few days or so.
A month later, I attended a Christmas dinner where I—once again—ate a few bites of food. My family felt concerned. I finally accepted that it was a problem and went to a walk-in clinic on Boxing Day.
The doctor diagnosed me with gastritis, hypothesizing that the way I was living, eating, and drinking created the conditions for my stomach to create too much acid. The next steps were for me to take some medication—pantoprazole—which would tide me over while I made lifestyle changes. I would need to reduce stress, eat healthier, and be more mindful of drinking alcohol and caffeine.
I was in my mid-20s, and I felt shocked. It hadn’t crossed my mind how my diet could affect my stomach. My brain started connecting the dots; the time my stomach gave me trouble in Portugal, how queasy I felt after eating spicy food, and how hungry I felt every afternoon because I skipped breakfast to get more focused hours of work in.
From then, until now—as I’m entering my mid-30s—my stomach generally feels good. I also made a lot of changes, big and small. Some of the more significant ones:
I make breakfast first thing almost every morning.
Two or three times a week, I cook lunch and buy groceries immediately after breakfast. It’s the best time for me to cook, and I can work in the morning without worrying about lunch. I don’t feel like I’m running down the clock.
When I order food outside, I incline away from foods that are deep fried, saucy, buttery, oily, and spicy. I love them, they don’t love me. I’ve made my peace with that.
If I feel hungry at night, I eat a cucumber or a very basic greek salad. I like lentil soup as well. Whatever is easy for my stomach to digest.
I meditate and journal as often as possible, almost every day. I loosely maintain a gentle workout routine. When I experience stress or overwhelm, I take myself out for a walk.
If my stomach ever feels weird, I boil water and make chamomile tea. That helps a lot.
A lot of these changes were encouraged, or even initiated, by my partner, who is a very strong proponent of cooking and eating healthy. I learned from her that delicious food can also be incredibly healthy, and can be made with my own two hands.
There are lots of other little tweaks too, like eating without the TV on, intentionally not clearing the plate when I’m full, and doing my best to eat what I feel like. I try to carry a snack with me, like nuts or a protein bar, if I know I’m commuting somewhere far. I also try to stay hydrated. When I skimmed The Eating Instinct, I got a lot of really good ideas for adjustments.
Thankfully, I was relatively young when I experienced the first symptoms, and I made adjustments quickly. While I’m less young now, I’m much healthier and happier as a result.
Shifting my lifestyle choices to take better care of my stomach is an achievement I feel proud of. The saying goes, you take care of your stomach for the first 50 years of your life, and then it takes care of you. I feel like I’ve earned a bit of trust from my stomach.
That, to me, is how success feels like.