Food can be defined in so many ways: sustenance to live, a means of celebrating, fuel for the body, comfort for the mind, a creative outlet—just to name a few. One of the most typical questions I receive is whether or not food can or should be used as a reward.
“Can I give my child food when trying to soothe him?”
“Is a prize of food okay if I’m working on some type of behavioral change—like toilet training?”
“Can food be used as a motivator for listening in the classroom or finishing school work?”
My daughter hates getting shots. I mean how many kids—or even adults—feel absolutely fine when going to the doctor for a vaccine? I have always tried to do what is most recommended in terms of parenting advice: don’t spring a visit to the doctor on your child—tell them somewhat in advance about where they are going and what to expect. Perhaps even model it when they’re toddlers.
But no matter how many conversations we’ve had, she still does not want to go to an appointment where she anticipates pain. And it’s very tempting to simply say, “If you go to the doctor, you’ll get a lollipop!” to help motivate her. And the sentiment there is absolutely fine,but we need to be clear on the messaging and intention.
If I were to offer my daughter a lollipop after the doctor it would not be from a place of “earning” a food that some people consider taboo; lollipops are fine. Yes, we should be mindful of dental health and sure, it may not be a filling snack when our bellies are empty. But really, lollipops are not the enemy.
If I were to offer one to her, it would be from a place of recognizing how certain foods can give us comfort. It would not be, “You did this hard thing, so now you can have candy!” Instead I’d say, “I know shots make you nervous and can hurt for a moment, but what do you think might feel nice afterwards?” First and foremost, I’d ask her. She might want to bring a stuffed animal or even just to sit on my lap. I let her brainstorm an idea. If I did want to offer food as a comfort, I could simply say this: “ Is there a food that might feel nice to have afterwards? Sometimes food gives us comfort too!”
Because food can indeed be comforting. We eat emotionally at times because of an association with a certain food or its taste. That is okay! Of course, it should not be our only means of comforting ourselves just as no coping skill should be the sole way we self-soothe. Teaching one’s child this lesson can allow her/him to recognize the comfort food often provides without putting much emphasis on food as a whole.
Food can be used to celebrate and is a wonderful means of bringing people together! Finishing a unit at school? Celebrate with a pizza party! But the language should not be, “If you just listen, you’ll get a special snack” or “You’re going to lose out on our Shabbat party if you don’t behave!” Food should not become something conditional based on behavior. The best language to use is, “Food is such an awesome way to celebrate; let’s plan a celebration in honor of X together.” We serve cake or cupcakes at birthdays as a means of celebrating another year of life. We have traditional foods for certain holidays that go beyond religious law (think cheesecake on Shavuot rather than matzah on Pesach.)
Food can be joyful or comforting, but it should not be earned. “Earning” food teaches children (and adults!) that we are undeserving of food just as we are. Many of us have internalized this—the idea that food can be “earned” only based on our exercise or other eating habits. So many individuals determine if they have “earned” food based on their weight or size. When we use this mindset, we place food on a pedestal which typically leads to an unhealthy relationship with it, causing restriction or compulsive eating cycles as well as a preoccupation with it. Our goal is that food can be enjoyable but it should remain neutral and not take up too much space in our minds.
I don’t want my daughter to think she has to earn a lollipop or obsess about when she can have one. I want it to be another food that she enjoys and that gives her comfort, without it relating in any way to her self-worth. You too—whether you are a parent or educator or simply looking to heal your own relationship with food—can move toward the goal of having food provide joy, celebration, fun or simply fuel. Start by removing the need for earning it.
Temimah Zucker, LCSW, works in New York and New Jersey with individuals ages 18 and older who are struggling with mental health concerns, and she specializes in working with those looking to heal their relationships between their bodies and souls. Zucker is an advocate and public speaker concerning eating disorder awareness and a metro New York consultant at Monte Nido. She is honored to now serve on the board of Atzmi. To learn more or to reach her, visit www.temimah.com.
