A few years ago, I did a juice fast. A lot of people told me I was crazy to do it. But a lot of other people, people whom I knew to be healthy and sane individuals, told me that they had done juice fasts in the past and that they were a great way to “refocus” your diet and appetite. I had graduated from law school a few weeks before, so I had just completed an unhealthy trifecta of finals, beach week, and graduation weekend. Since I had just started studying for the bar, I was getting into a very strict routine. And there was a juice bar right by my apartment. So, I thought, why not? How bad could it be? 

And here’s what surprised everyone, especially myself: I loved it. I felt amazing. In fact, I felt the best I had in years. I couldn’t stop singing the praises of the juice fast. I went out to “dinner” with my friends, and while they ate, I sat there smiling, 12 ounces of vegetable juice in hand, telling everyone that I’m really not hungry, and no, I don’t understand it either but I just feel so great! 

But, even while I was fasting, I realized that it was a perverse kind of great. I felt wonderful not because I was actually full or satisfied (although, I will admit, I really wasn’t hungry, and I still don’t know why), but because I was exerting control over my body. I am someone who has never, ever had willpower when it comes to food (or, uh, anything). My metabolism was keeping me thin, but it wasn’t keeping me healthy. So I think that, deep down, one of the reasons that I did the juice fast was to test myself. And I proved to myself that I could control my own body. That I could force my body to do what I wanted it to do, not what hunger or cravings or nature or, you know, basic human biology told me to do. And it felt really, really good. 

And that, you guys, is where eating disorders start. I didn’t realize it at the time, but coupled with the massive stress of the bar exam, I was teetering dangerously close to one. Thankfully, I didn’t have a chance to go all the way — there were far too many going away dinners and parties and bar trips to attend. I slowly found my way back to normal. Better than normal, really, since the one thing the juice fast helped me with was to realize that I could stop eating when I was actually full. (amazing concept, I know). But that’s not something that you literally need to starve yourself for 6 days to accomplish. 

The weirdest part, though, was that I didn’t realize any of this until I read Jordan’s post. I had been toying with the idea of doing another juice fast this summer while The Dude is out of town (believe me, juice fasts, especially if you do them right, are not something you want to do in front of your boyfriend). But something was holding me back, and I couldn’t quite place my finger on what. And then I read this: 

Last night, when I was deciding whether or not to stop, I suddenly realized that I felt guilty. Depressed at my inability to “push through”. I wanted to show my body that I was the boss; that it couldn’t tell me what to do…and that feeling reminded me way too much of when I used to not eat enough a few years back.

And holy shit. She was right. 

Oh, and one other thing. When you do a juice fast, even if you feel fantastic, all you do is think about food. You’re not hungry at all, but food still consumes you. You think about the role that food plays in the world. You think about the spice trade. You think about the Food Network. You realize how many social outings are based entirely around food. Now, that may be good, or that may be bad. I don’t know. But I do know that it turns you into this: 

I stopped because I was sitting there at my desk, typing listlessly away on my computer and wanting it to be nighttime already so I could go to sleep and be one day closer to being done with this whole thing…and then I realized that I was actually wishing the days to pass more quickly. 

Or, if you’re me, you spend a beautiful summer afternoon in Virginia sitting on a patio table, cupping hot tea, watching everyone around you eating, not being able to concentrate on anything else, and feeling proud of yourself for not being one of them. But at some point, and maybe not until two years later, you realize: life is too short for that kind of self-deprivation. In other words, life is too short for juice fasts.