This post shall be entirely dedicated to full cream milk. You may find it a strange topic, but nevertheless it is quite relevent. Let me explain further.
I grew up in a household where we didn’t drink full cream milk. I’m not sure if it was intentional, but I never once saw a carton of the stuff in our house. It became pretty normal for me to go out for coffee with a friend and have “a cappuccino on skim milk thanks”. I ordered a coffee once on skim and the lady who took my order told me I didn’t need skim milk, that I probably wouldn’t taste the difference and she might mess with my head a little and put full cream milk in there. This implanted a small fear in me that people might actually do that – people might set out to make me have more fat or calories in my diet than I wanted or needed. It was one of those situations that perpetuated eating disordered thinking and behaviour.
Yesterday L and I went to Sydney for an open day at the college I intend on going to next year. Had a flat white from Campos and a pistachio and something or other macaron for morning tea- so delicious! And the coffee was on full cream milk. It’s the third one I’ve ever had in my life thus far, and I think it tastes a hell of a lot better! Lemme challenge you for a moment if you’re a no-fat-yoghurt-eater-lite-milk-drinker-99%-fat-free-cracker-eater-60%-less-saturated-fat-devourer: does it really matter? Does it really, honestly matter? Is your body shape going to change over night? Are you a better person because you have the “self-control” to eat frozen yoghurt instead of ice cream?
I agree that it’s all about balance – eating good and healthy food, with a few choccie bikkies here and there and a row of chocolate when you’ve had a bad day – but don’t go crazy. It’s not BAD to treat yourself every now and then. It’s actually perfectly healthy, and perfectly normal.
I’m discovering what my real values are – not the size of my hips or the circumference of my thighs or visible ribs – but meaningful relationships, contentment and aspirations. It’s being overwhelmingly thankful that I’m not so starved that I have to crawl up the stairs – that I can walk the dog every day and feel completely wonderful. It’s going out for coffee with a friend and not having to say “please make sure it has skim milk” because I don’t care if it does.
I value freedom – not numbers.