--- title: "Paris Breakdown" url: https://noti.group/paris-breakdown/ language: en publisher: "Noti Group" section: "Lifestyle" published: 2026-10-03T12:00:59.000Z updated: 2026-10-03T13:48:52.412Z id: a7d99cbe-f5b6-4944-998f-95033ecd7cbe source: "The Guardian Life and Style https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/ng-interactive/2026/oct/03/food-diet-weight-hunting" attribution: "Link to https://noti.group/paris-breakdown/ and name Noti Group when you quote or summarize this story." --- # Paris Breakdown A 19-year-old woman breaks down in tears in front of a mirror during a family vacation in Paris, overwhelmed by frustration and despair about her body. A life-changing experience took place on a family vacation in Paris when I was just 19 years old. The emotional turmoil I had been trying to keep hidden finally boiled over and I broke down in tears, unable to contain my feelings of frustration and despair about my body. I remember standing in front of the full-length mirror in our small apartment, feeling like I was at war with myself. Every step echoed through the thin walls as I sobbed uncontrollably, trying not to disturb my family who were just a room away. It was a desperate moment, one that I wish I could erase from memory. The pain and self-loathing had been building for years, fueled by unrealistic expectations about food and my body. In high school, I had become obsessed with the idea of burning belly fat through cold green tea, drinking 32 ounces every morning in the hope it would deliver on its promises. As I navigated adulthood, my relationship with food only became more complicated. Working at a deli one summer taught me to be mindful of portion sizes, but even that was not enough. Friends would point out when I overindulged and I felt ashamed, so I resorted to extreme measures like forcing myself to eat a can of tuna before early morning weightlifting sessions. The obsession with food and my body continued into my early 20s, with me experimenting with intermittent fasting as a way to gain control. The rules were strict: no food from 8pm until noon the next day. But even that was not enough to bring me peace, and I felt trapped in a cycle of guilt and self-loathing. The turning point came when I took part in a hunting trip and killed my own deer for the first time. It marked a shift in my perspective on food and my body, but it would take more than just this experience to heal the deep-seated issues that had been plaguing me for so long. Sitting down at my dinner table in Belgrade, Montana, I savored a piece of venison from a white-tailed deer I had hunted myself. This experience was a turning point, one that would shatter the complicated emotions I'd long associated with eating. Growing up, I was accustomed to consuming venison and elk thanks to my father's annual hunting trips out west. He would return home with a bounty of meat to fill our freezer, providing for our family throughout the year. At 24, I took a job with MeatEater, a media brand built around Steven Rinella's television show that premiered on the Sportsman channel in 2012. MeatEater found new success when it transitioned to Netflix in 2018, attracting a broader audience during the pandemic. This shift drew in viewers from diverse backgrounds, including those who followed an ethical vegan lifestyle and others newly interested in outdoor pursuits. The show also appealed to suburban parents concerned about rising meat prices. The cost of ground beef skyrocketed during this period, increasing from $3.88 per pound in March 2020 to $4.74 by June 2020. Today, the same pound costs a staggering $6.92, representing an 78% price hike compared to pre-pandemic levels. As I delved deeper into hunting and conservation, I found personal significance in this pursuit. In the fall of 2021, I hunted with my father for the first time in Wyoming, targeting white-tailed deer with a tag. Their abundance can have far-reaching consequences, impacting ecosystem health and other competing big game species like mule deer. White-tailed deer are ubiquitous across many parts of the country, but their overpopulation poses challenges to local ecosystems. This issue is particularly pressing for iconic western species like mule deer, which struggle to adapt to changing environmental conditions compared to white-tailed deer. Hunting these deer was not only a means to provide for myself and my family but also an opportunity to contribute to conservation efforts. By actively managing deer populations, we can help maintain the delicate balance of our ecosystems. As I knelt next to the deer's lifeless body, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions - shock, guilt, and even a hint of sadness. My guide began to teach me how to field-dress her, explaining each step with precision and care. The doe was packed with fat, which encased her kidneys and provided a cushion for her belly. As the cold air set in, the fat began to congeal, taking on a strange, soap-like appearance. It dawned on me that this deer had been preparing for a long winter, one where food would be scarce. In that moment, I couldn't help but draw comparisons between the doe's physique and my own. I've been working out and dieting to achieve a certain ideal, one that values less body fat over more. The irony wasn't lost on me - in our culture, being in "great shape is often equated with having less body fat. Dr Hannah Carl, a psychologist specializing in eating disorders, has observed a similar phenomenon in her patients. She believes that part of the discomfort surrounding food stems from a fractured relationship with its origins. When food is always available and easily accessible, it can be difficult to view it as precious or worthy of enjoyment. The sterile environment of modern supermarkets can make it challenging for people to connect with their food on a deeper level. This disconnection can lead to a sense of discomfort and anxiety around eating. Dr Carl's insights shed light on the complex dynamics at play in our relationship with food. As I stood up, surveying the deer's lifeless body, I couldn't help but wonder if this experience would change my perspective on food forever. The memories of that moment - the shock, the guilt, and the sadness - lingered, a stark reminder of the impact that hunting can have on one's relationship with nature. The disconnection from where our food comes from is a stark reality for many of us. We often take for granted the journey that brings fresh produce to our plates, from farm to table. This detachment can be jarring when we're confronted with the harsh realities of the industrial food system. In some parts of the world, people struggle to access basic necessities like nutritious food. Meanwhile, in countries where food is abundant, there's a peculiar obsession with weight and body image. Social gatherings often revolve around indulging in guilty pleasures, only to later justify restraint as a virtue. The notion that we can simply balance calories consumed versus calories burned has been debunked by experts. In fact, Elise Loehnen, author of On Our Best Behavior: The Seven Deadly Sins and the Price Women Pay to Be Good, points out that diet remains one of the most misunderstood fields in medicine. Doctors and clinicians are still searching for answers on how our bodies respond to food, and the simplistic calories in vs calories out" equation has been proven inadequate. When women are told to follow this math, they know it doesn't hold true in reality. Nature provides a fascinating example of weight fluctuation as an essential survival mechanism. Many wild animals rely on storing fat during abundant seasons, only to draw upon these reserves during times of scarcity. This natural ebb and flow is crucial for their very existence. In the same way that deer adapt to seasonal changes, humans could learn from this intuitive understanding of body regulation. By embracing a more nuanced approach to food and weight, we might begin to break free from the restrictive and often damaging beauty standards that surround us. The pursuit of a healthier relationship with food is not just about individual choices; it's also about reevaluating our societal norms and expectations around nutrition and body image. By doing so, we can work towards a more compassionate understanding of what it means to be healthy and whole. Women are constantly being told that their bodies need to conform to a certain standard, one that is often unattainable and unrealistic. They're expected to maintain a perfect weight, neither too heavy nor too thin, at all times. This pressure can have severe consequences, as evident from a study cited by Loehnen. The study found that nearly half of the respondents would rather give up a year of their life than be considered categorically obese. Additionally, one in seven women would prefer to sacrifice a decade of their life for the same reason. The statistics are alarming and reflect the deep-seated societal issues surrounding body image. Women are made to feel like they're not good enough if they don't meet these unattainable standards. It's heartbreaking to think that this is how society views women, especially considering the impact it can have on their mental and physical health. A new phenomenon has emerged in recent times - the reluctance to express concern about someone's weight loss, even when it appears extreme. This hesitation stems from a fear of being accused of disrespect or judgmental behavior. However, by not speaking up, we may inadvertently make it harder for loved ones to seek help when they need it. The marketing of highly effective weight-loss drugs to women without medical needs has further exacerbated the issue. These medications are often pushed as a quick fix, rather than a solution to underlying health problems. This can lead to severe consequences, including damage to one's physical and mental well-being. When we view human bodies as capable of fluctuating with the seasons of life, we begin to see weight gain or loss in a different light. It becomes an indicator of health and abundance, rather than a sign of weakness or failure. Ultimately, it's time for society to reevaluate its relationship with food and body image. By doing so, we can create a more compassionate understanding of what it means to be healthy and whole. Hunting has had a profound impact on my life, extending far beyond the practical benefits of having a steady supply of fresh meat in the freezer. The memories of sharing meals with loved ones and spending quiet time outdoors have also been invaluable. However, it's the more introspective aspects of hunting that have truly helped me come to terms with my own mortality. Reflecting on the fact that one day I will be nothing more than a lifeless collection of proteins, fats, calcium, and water has given me a new perspective on life's fragility. By acknowledging this reality, I've gained a deeper appreciation for the simple things in life and a greater sense of gratitude for every moment I have. --- Source: [The Guardian Life and Style](https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/ng-interactive/2026/oct/03/food-diet-weight-hunting) Published by Noti Group: https://noti.group/paris-breakdown/