Our relationship with food is a quirky thing. Some people eat to live while others live to eat. Personally I eat to live.

I’m sure you know people who as soon as the subject of food comes up they are all-in talking about their favorite restaurants, what they ate there, why it’s the best, how they can’t wait to go back again. They can go on forever and ever, in my opinion.

And I’m also sure you know people who once the meal is in front of them they devour it like it might disappear if they don’t gobble it down quickly. You wouldn’t dare try to steal away their plate. Surely they aren’t even tasting the food.

There is a school of thought that if you eat more slowly, your stomach will feel full well before you have stuffed it to overflowing. Also eating mindfully, that is not while scrolling on your phone, watching TV, and any other number of distracting activities that take you away from really tasting and enjoying your food, is the way we all should be eating to get not only the physical benefits but the emotional benefits.

This is a perfect spot to jump to the heart of this article. Now, I’m not a psychologist, nutritionist, or even life coach but I did take a course many years ago that was all about the psychology of eating.

It was a truly eye-opening course that delved into our earliest relationships with nutrition, that is how our mother’s fed us. Were we breastfed or bottle fed? How was that experience for not only the baby but the mother? Was there stress? Was the environment loving? We may not recollect the experience but its imprint is left with us and does have an effect on our relationship with nourishing ourselves both with nutrition and with emotions.

We explored the dynamics of the family dinner table. The experiences of the students in the class were varied. Some variations had to do with culture. Certain cultures place a great importance on meals being a time for family to come together and share. Depending on the culture the family could be large including grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc. Just think how different the dynamics are when an extended family eats together compared to a single mom. This is not a critique of the extended family being “better”, but more an observation of how the experience of a meal changes depending on the makeup of who’s at the table.

For many, meal time as they grew up was a time when children should be seen and not heard, where “Dad had a bad day” so the meal became overshadowed by the stress brought to the table by both mom and dad.

We looked at how our food had been prepared when we were children and subsequently how we, as adults, make our meals. Is food prepared in a rush with little attention to who will consume it, how it will taste, and just as a means to an end? Or is it made with intent, with love for those who will eat it, with a positive attitude, and with being fully present? It does make a difference as you will see below.

When as children we were made to eat everything on our plate, eat things we really didn’t like, or, for some, experienced a complete lack of food, our relationship with food as adults had imprints of these experiences.

If you take a minute to think back, what was your experience with food and eating growing up? It may not be something you have ever thought of, or even realized the effects it has on your adult relationship with it.

The neatest part of this course was the final class. We were to share a meal together, not just an ordinary end-of-class potluck but one where we were to prepare our contribution with love, with being present, with intent; and once we came into class for the meal, we were to go about setting the table and then eating in complete silence. Now for a class of all women you had to know this was going to be difficult for many if not all of us.

The experience of preparing my contribution while keeping my classmates in mind and the upcoming meal, was a totally wonderful experience. I had to put aside all the other things that I had to do that day, focus on each step of the recipe and visualize the pleasure I was hoping I would bring to my class.

We all knew what our role was in setting up the table and what each of us had brought prior to coming into class so there really was no need to talk. Some couldn’t help themselves and would blurt out a word or two before remembering the rule, which would make the rest of us chuckle—it felt so good—it was truly bonding.

The most extraordinary thing was just how amazing the food tasted when all you had to focus on was the taste and sensation of it. And then communicating silently with the creator of the dish just how wonderful her food was. It made you realize just how mechanical our eating habits have become. How today eating, in many ways, has lost one of its core values, to nourish not only our bodies but our spirits.