Voices in Our Heads: Childhood Food Conditioning

Most of us still hear voices in our heads — often our mother’s well-meaning advice — guiding what we eat decades later. Those mental soundtracks can quietly sabotage healthy habits, even when we know better.

When I coach clients, I often hear the same old refrains looping in their minds, shaping their relationship with food. Much of that advice made sense in our parents’ day, before DoorDash and bottomless snack aisles existed. But in today’s world, those lessons can lead us astray.

“Don’t Waste Food”

This might be the most deeply ingrained message of all. “Waste not, want not,” I used to think came from the Bible. It’s actually a Victorian saying that became popular during the Great Depression, when wasting food was truly unthinkable.
My parents lived through those lean years, squeezing every drop from shampoo bottles and peanut-butter jars. I inherited that frugality, though it sometimes worked against me.
At school, the nuns warned that children were starving in Biafra, so cleaning our plates became a moral duty. Even as a kid, I wondered how eating my lima beans helped starving children — but I wasn’t about to risk sinning by throwing food away.
As an adult, that Depression-era guilt fueled many “finish-the-bag” moments with cookies and chips. Later, it transferred to leftovers. For years, I struggled to toss extra food, but I’ve made peace with it. Now, if I put too much on my plate, I’d rather let the disposal “eat” it than my waistline.
I tell my clients the same thing: you can either throw it away or wear it away — on your gut or your butt.

The Clean Plate Club

I was a charter member. My parents rewarded clean plates with dessert — especially when the vegetables came from a can. My sister hid hers in empty shampoo bottles under the table, and my brother “accidentally” spilled his milk nightly until my mother finally stopped serving it.

That conditioning stuck: if food was in front of me, it went in my mouth. Lately, though, I’ve been working to hand in my Clean Plate Club card. These days I serve smaller portions, and when I look down and think, “Lorie, this looks a little gluttonous,” the extras go to the disposal instead of me. Sometimes a few bites even stay behind when I’m full — a small but powerful rebellion against decades of conditioning. Childhood voices die hard, but they can be silenced.

“You’re Fat”

Some clients grew up hearing that phrase daily from parents who thought they were motivating them. Instead, it planted shame and defiance. Once labeled “fat,” many kids decided, Why bother? — and overate in frustration.
My mother’s version was gentler but still landed: “You don’t ever want to be fat.” She was projecting her own battles, but I heard judgment. My tiny older sister had a milk allergy and looked frail, so by comparison I branded myself overweight — even when I wasn’t.
By senior year, though, I truly was carrying extra pounds. The main culprit? Woolworth’s lunch counter. They ran a “balloon special” for hot-fudge sundaes — pop a balloon and you might pay one cent or forty-nine. It was an irresistible excuse to indulge my sweet tooth and maybe save money.
Before leaving for college, I quit sundaes cold turkey, dropped the weight, and proudly arrived at Penn State in jeans that fit. During my 23-year legal career, I still lived by my mother’s dictum: eat as much as you can without getting fat. My red power suit became my barometer. If it felt snug, I cut back for a while, then returned to my carb-and-cookie routine.

The Takeaway

Those old voices are stubborn, but they’re not permanent residents. Whether it’s guilt over wasting food, the need to clean your plate, or the fear of getting fat, they’re just echoes from the past. Once we recognize them, we can replace them with messages that actually serve us: mindfulness, satisfaction, and self-kindness.

Learn more about mindful eating techniques to help you overcome childhood food conditioning.

Start transforming your relationship with food today!
Get personalized guidance from Certified Life Coach Lorie Eber — email her at Eberlorie@gmail.com to begin your journey toward mindful eating.