Recalibrating: One Bite, One Breath, One Step

A slow and snack-sized approach to regulating your nervous system and building self-trust again

🪄 The Myth of the Big Fix

Perfectionism. All or nothing. Black and white thinking. These are the titans of change, productivity, healing, and creativity that I’ve been battling for decades. Couple that with my (apparently?) deep well of self-hatred (see previous blog post) and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

It’s the perfect combo for self-sabotage: high expectations with little faith in my own abilities = repeated failures that feel like proof I’m just fundamentally broken. Why even start unless it’ll be perfect? Mistakes? We don’t do those. Want to live a healthier life? Great! You must now do everything—flawlessly—every single day.

Or else the day is ruined. Might as well start over tomorrow. Or next week. Or maybe never.

Has that ever worked? Has that kind of shame-fueled thinking ever worked for anyone?

In recovery, I heard “progress over perfection” a thousand times. I even believed it. But I wasn’t living it. Not really. Maybe I’m still not—but I’m closer. I’ve noticed something new: a growing willingness to keep going. To get back up. To forgive the small hiccups. The crumbs on the counter. The toast that burned.

For the first time, I’m making real change—without intensive therapy. WHO EVEN AM I?

Apparently, I’m the Heather who’s learning to be gentler with herself. Who finally understands the (almost insultingly simple) truth: tiny, boring, consistent choices = real, sustainable change.

It’s not motivation—it’s momentum. And I’m finally done chasing the blaze of perfectionist glory. Instead, I’m recalibrating.

One bite. One breath. One step.

✨ The Plan (That Isn’t Really a Plan)

The plan is simple: live with a little more intention. Pay attention. Take everything one tiny bit at a time. I’m starting with the building blocks of a more balanced me.

🥪 One Bite at a Time

First, I’m teaching my body to trust that I’ll feed it regularly. That alone is huge.

Just because I don’t binge anymore doesn’t mean food isn’t still tangled up in shame. Binge eating disorder doesn’t live in a vacuum—it’s often paired with food restriction, moralizing, and a heaping scoop of guilt.

So now, I’m working on:

• Starting the day with breakfast within an hour or two of waking up

• Eating something every 3–4 hours

• Making thoughtful, nourishing choices—without obsession

• Checking in with hunger and fullness cues, and actually honoring them

• Allowing “easy” foods, not just “ideal” ones

• And reminding myself (again and again) that food doesn’t have moral value—and neither do I, based on what I eat

🌬 One Breath at a Time

I’m also working on regulating my nervous system—because wow, is it tired. I can’t handle conflict. My brain doesn’t know the difference between a life-threatening tiger and my husband asking why I moved something in the kitchen.

Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fawn? I’m the group chat admin. My sympathetic nervous system has been running the show, and I need a new director.

Right now, I’m practicing:

• Mindful breathing

• Vagal nerve stimulation (more on that soon)

• Singing my heart out in the car

• Crying when I need to (often also in the car)

• Taking a pause before reacting—breathe and receive

It’s not fancy. It’s not perfect. But it’s a start.

🐾 One Step at a Time

I’m also learning to rethink movement—not as punishment, but as reconnection.

I don’t like sweating. I don’t like feeling watched. And as a fat person, I’ve never felt safe moving my body publicly. Even as a kid, when I was smaller and stronger, gym class felt like an emotional ambush.

Movement made me feel my body. And that didn’t feel safe. So I avoided it—unless it was joyful: swimming, roller skating, biking, horseback riding.

Now, I’m starting with:

• Short daily walks with Jose

• Moving more around the house

• Getting up regularly from my desk at work

• Maybe (eventually) reincorporating joyful movement

But for now? We walk. Slowly. Daily-ish. Imperfectly.

✨ What’s Helping (and What’s Not)

📚 Books

These are the books that helped me lower the bar (in a good way) and start treating myself like a person—not a project.

• Atomic Habits by James Clear
  Tiny changes, big impact. Ideal for nervous system-friendly routines and breaking shame-based cycles.
  → [Bookshop.org link]

• How to Manage Your Home Without Losing Your Mind by Dana K. White
  For when cleaning feels impossible and you’re one pile away from losing it. This book constantly reminds me it’s okay to start messy.
  → [Bookshop.org link]

• Self-Compassion by Kristin Neff
  A research-backed guide to being less of a jerk to yourself. Not fluff—real strategies that are helping rewire my inner critic.
  → [Bookshop.org link]

• Emotional Agility by Susan David, PhD
  Learn to feel your feelings without getting stuck in them. Especially helpful if you’ve been living in autopilot, perfectionism, or avoidance.
  → [Bookshop.org link]

🛠 Tools

• My marble jar progress tracker (more on this soon)

• The Finch app (cute birb, virtual friends, and self-care quests? Yes, please.)

• Grounding practices

💭 What I’ve Let Go Of

(…or am still un-gripping with claw marks, depending on the day.)

• All-or-nothing thinking
  Healing doesn’t happen in clean lines. Halfway is still forward.

• Aesthetic morning routines
  I’m not trying to be that girl. I’m just trying to take my meds and not hate the morning.

• Shame spirals
  They still show up, but I don’t hand them the mic anymore. Sometimes I even laugh instead of unravel.

• The idea that healing has to look good
  Spoiler: It doesn’t. It looks like crying after work and then writing about it.

• The belief that I have to earn rest
  I’m learning to sit down before I collapse. Still working on the “without guilt” part.

🌿 Wrap-Up Thought

This isn’t a glow-up.

It’s me, lying on the floor, eating string cheese, and trying not to spiral—one regulated breath and begrudging sip of water at a time. Reassuring Goblin that Mom’s okay and does not, in fact, need a tiny dog nurse.

I’m not chasing better.

I’m chasing okay-er. More often. In ways that don’t set my nervous system on fire.

And honestly? That’s enough for now.

🍽️ Leftovers from the Shame Buffet: Journal Prompt

Because we all have emotional leftovers we didn’t ask for.

What would “halfway healed” look like for me today?

Not perfect. Not fixed. Just slightly more okay than I was before.

Write freely. No filters, no grammar police, no pressure to make it profound.

You’re allowed to be messy. You’re allowed to be mid-process. That’s still healing.

🍫 Emergency Snack Pack: Grounding Visualization

For when your brain is spiraling and you need to teleport out of panic.

✨ The Safe Snack Spot

Close your eyes and imagine a small, cozy room—or maybe a blanket fort—stocked with all your favorite snacks, calming sounds, and safe feelings.

There’s warm lighting. A soft chair or couch. The perfect beverage. No expectations. No pressure. Just comfort.

Now imagine:

• You sit down. The seat hugs your body.

• You can hear something gentle—crackling fire, lo-fi beats, or silence.

• You reach for your favorite snack, and it tastes exactly right.

• Nothing is urgent. You are allowed to be here.

Linger in this space for 60 seconds or more. Then open your eyes. Move one part of your body. Say (out loud or in your head):

“I can come back to this space any time.”