Satisfaction is considered the hub of the wheel in intuitive eating, but what does that mean? For those of us with a history of disordered eating, the concept of eating what you want, in the amount that you want, when you want (while paying heed to hunger and fullness cues) can feel like a tall order. When your food choices have largely been determined by extrinsic values, like a points system, carb counts, or weight goals rather than intrinsic ones, ordering a burger and fries (with a Coke, #pleaseandthanks) can feel equal parts daunting and ridiculous.

Let’s break it down.

Satisfaction isn’t (only) about eating “forbidden” foods.

In my dieting days, I thought the only foods that were truly delicious were “forbidden” foods like salt-and-vinegar chips, pizza, and sour gummy candy. While I enjoyed salads, I never thought of them as crave-worthy. Perhaps you feel similarly?

While pleasure is central to the intuitive eating process, safety is an important consideration. It’s tough to derive pleasure from foods we don’t feel safe around. You can work toward a more relaxed relationship with food while working through your restrictions in the present moment. It takes time to neutralize the morality our culture attaches to food (see “sinful” or “guilt-inducing”), shelve the weight loss goals, and to integrate true unconditional permission.

Satisfaction can mean eating cheeseburgers and fries, if you like, but you may prefer or need to start with more manageable steps, like eating safe foods to satisfying amounts (rather than measuring), playing with condiments (like rooted garlic mayonnaise and cheesy dips), and broadening the variety you currently consume before moving on to more challenging meals.

Satisfaction is fluid.

“Nothing’s certain in life but death and taxes.” Surely you’ve heard that adage, too? Satisfaction follows suit. The foods you found satisfying in childhood (like Mom’s tuna casserole) may no longer appeal to your adult self, in the same way that what you enjoy now may not be as enjoyable even ten months from now.

Intuitive eating has genuinely taught me that our desires are flexible; in the winter, I may crave heartier meals and more complex flavour profiles, while in mid-July, I may be perfectly content with a simple egg sandwich. My palette is constantly expanding in response to new recipe attempts, travel, restaurant meals, and interactions with people whose food interests may differ from my own.

The foods you find satisfying at the beginning of your intuitive eating journey may not be the same foods you derive satisfaction from several months in.

Satisfaction is context-dependent.

What passes for a satisfying breakfast on a weekday morning may look vastly different from the satisfying 3-course meal you enjoy on a European vacation. Not every meal is going to be gourmet. There’s nothing wrong with starting your day with a simple bowl of oatmeal or ending it with some scrambled eggs and toast. The most important thing, always, is adequate, regular, and consistent intake, and it’s okay if that happens to also mean boring, economical, or quick.

At the same time, you’re welcome to cook a more elaborate meal if you enjoy it or have some extra time and want to cook something special.

And while we’re on it, satisfaction isn’t limited to pizza and pasta, either. Many outsiders commonly (and falsely) believe intuitive eating is anti-health. While you may crave more fun foods at the beginning of the workday and eat disproportionately more cookies than celery, a salad with chicken or a vegan burrito bowl loaded with vegetables may also be satisfying. Intuitive eating, after all, isn’t about the food, but about the mindset you carry about nutrition.

Satisfaction is a sign of privilege.

Even though satisfaction may be an intuitive eating principle held near and dear to many folks, what it means to you depends mainly on your privilege. Some of us can afford to eat the take-out we like, eat at nice restaurants, and make balanced meals on the regular. For many others, satisfying may mean sating our hunger at the fundamental level.

You may not always have access to the foods you prefer, particularly if you are travelling to different countries, experiencing changes to your income, or, hey, in the midst of a natural disaster. Years ago, when I lived in Tallahassee with my then-partner, we lived on corn tortillas, ham, grits, cheese, pasta, yogurt, cereal, strawberries, big bags of grapefruit, and vegetables we stocked up on for cheap at a produce stand on the outskirts of Plant City.

When I moved to Toronto, my grocery staples included cartons of eggs bought for two dollars at my local drugstore, discounted produce, rice, and many, many legumes. I couldn’t afford meat, cheeses, and more expensive ingredients that I now gratefully enjoy.

Satisfaction may become more nuanced in time.

Intuitive eating is a practice, not a one-hit-wonder diet. It takes time to incorporate the principles and unlearn the lessons of diet culture. As you move through the process, you may find within you a growing curiosity about different ingredients, recipes, and cooking styles. I’m always excited to see how my interest in food changes from week to week: sometimes I’m all about chicken fajitas and burrito bowls, while the next I may crave steak and mashed potatoes or a Greek salad with shrimp skewers and lemon potatoes. Sometimes I only want to snack on chips, while other times I enjoy charcuterie plates or crackers and hummus. Give yourself space and permission to discover, learn, and grow.

That’s always been the most satisfying part of the process for me.

Sarah Berneche