Some random Sunday morning, some time ago, I was walking around a small park with my dog. She was smelling the trees and trying to scare some pigeons when an off leash dog came to greet us. My guess is that this other dog was maybe some kind of pit bull as it was quite wide, although not tall at all. Anyways, they were both pretty happy until the other dog's owner started shouting at it. She wasn't calling her dog, just shouting. I tried to remove us from the situation but the other dog, still trying to play, kept following us. We were finally almost out of the park when the owner got to the dog and started hitting it. My heart shrank, even though it was an absolute unit of a dog and it didn't seem hurt at all. I knew the owner was being violent towards the poor thing and I could only imagine how she acted when not in a public setting. I was thinking about that when I heard my own dog barking. She was getting mad at the other owner. She wasn't liking the situation and sure enough she was giving us a piece of her mind about it. I thought she was losing it because she'd never gone mad at anyone like that. I also thought that she didn't realize that that attitude could make some of that violence get redirected towards us. I'd always thought she was a clever dog and I was now doubting it. Until it came down on me: she didn't think we could be in danger because my dog had never (and has never) known violence. All my dog knows is eating raw meat, sharing my bed and having more toys than she could keep track of.

It may seem silly now but this was a huge breakthrough for me. For the longest time I'd be trying to explain some things to my partner only to end things with a stern "you don't understand because your family loves you". It was thanks to this incident with my dog that I understood it wasn't about love; it was about violence. It's not that I was raised without love but I also took my fair share of beatings, most of them due to some undesirable personality traits like being stubborn. Even today (many, many years later) some people still defend that they were deserved. Let me be clear about this: if you think that there's absolutely anything that a 3 years old kid can do to deserve being held by the throat under an ice cold shower you need to take a good look at yourself. On the other hand and partly thanks to my recent diagnosis I know now that most of those undesirable personality traits are actually related to autism. 

The thing about violence is that it can take so many shapes. It can happen around food too. The violence of uncertainty or not knowing when your next meal will be or if it'll happen at all. Even though I've never gone hungry, I've also felt that kind of violence. There are many things that can and will change our relationship with food, some for better and some for worse. Recognizing them is a step in the right direction. We can't be successful in our journey if we don't know what's holding us back. In my case, all these things have made anxiety take over my life and everything around me. I'm now in a place where finally every little step forward is rewarded with a move in the right direction (does this make sense? Because for the longest time I've been trying to take steps forward but still felt like I was moving backwards).

This week was a little harsh on me but I kept to my diet the best I could and I lost 0.7kg. I know this is a good number even if I don't feel like it is because of my roaring success during previous weeks. At least now I can say that I managed to stay on track even during bad times.

As always, thanks for reading.