Soothing with food isn't a failure

How to expand your emotional toolkit with compassion

May 28, 2025

Photo credit: Courtney Brice Photography

Many people come to Intuitive Eating believing that emotional eating is a red flag—that if they’re doing it (eating intuitively) “right,” food will never be a coping mechanism again. But that belief is rooted in the same binary thinking and shame that fuels diet culture.

Emotional eating isn’t the enemy. In fact, it’s one of the many ways we’ve learned to care for ourselves—especially when other tools feel out of reach.

As a Registered Clinical Counsellor and Certified Intuitive Eating Counsellor, I believe emotional eating deserves compassion, not condemnation. Let’s explore why it makes sense, how it actually supports nervous system regulation, and what it means to build a bigger emotional toolkit—not a stricter food rulebook.

Myth Defined: Emotional Eating = Failure

This myth assumes that once you start practicing Intuitive Eating, you should only eat in response to physical hunger—and that using food to cope with emotions is a regression or weakness. This creates guilt (and often shame) around a very human behavior.

But here’s the truth: emotional eating is both an innate and learned behavior—and it makes sense. From infancy, we’re soothed with milk or food. As we grow, food continues to be associated with comfort, connection, and safety. It’s not a moral failing. It’s a coping tool.

Why Emotional Eating Makes Sense

Emotional eating is not only understandable—it’s evidence-based. Here's why:

Behavioral Learning: From infancy, we are conditioned to associate food with comfort and safety. Feeding is often our first experience of being soothed, co-regulated, and cared for. Over time, this foundational learning becomes embedded and further reinforced in our nervous system and behavior patterns. This kind of associative learning is both natural and adaptive (Chawner & Filippetti, 2024).
Neurochemistry: Emotional eating provides a neurochemical (aka. innate nervous system messenger) boost that can temporarily alleviate stress and negative emotions. Consuming palatable foods—especially those high in sugar and fat—activates the brain's reward system, releasing neurotransmitters like dopamine and serotonin, which are associated with pleasure and mood regulation. This release can create a sense of comfort and relief, reinforcing the behavior. Additionally, these types of foods can also stimulate endogenous opioids (yes, they function exactly as they sound). In other words, emotional eating is a coping strategy rooted in our neurobiology (Adam & Epel, 2007; Yau & Potenza, 2014)
Polyvagal Theory: Eating can activate the ventral vagal system—the “safe and social” part of the nervous system that cues the body-mind that we are safe. When we eat, especially familiar or comforting foods, we may enter a more regulated state physiologically. This can be an adaptive form of self-soothing, particularly when we lack access to other forms of co-regulation (Porges, 2011).
Systemic Oppression and Access: Not everyone has access to therapy, time for movement, or community care. For many people—especially those living in marginalized bodies or under chronic stress—food may be one of the most accessible, immediate tools for emotional regulation. Demonizing that response overlooks the role of socioeconomic status, racism, ableism, and fatphobia in shaping what resources people can realistically use to meet their emotional needs. Nerd out here, here, and here.

When we understand emotional eating through this lens, it becomes clear that it's not a personal failure—it’s a coping mechanism shaped by biology, experience, and environment.

Why This Myth Hurts

When we pathologize emotional eating, we miss the opportunity to understand what’s underneath the behavior. Instead of asking, “What am I needing right now?” we jump to judgment: “What’s wrong with me?” This reinforces shame and disconnection.

What the Research Actually Says

Self-compassion (not shame) is more effective for long-term behavioral change and emotional resilience (Neff, 2011).
Emotional eating becomes problematic only when it’s the only tool available to manage distress (Tylka et al., 2015).
Shame-based approaches are associated with poorer emotional regulation, undermine motivation, increase disordered eating, and worsen mental well-being (Bardone-Cone et al., 2010; Kelly & Carter, 2015; Neff & Germer, 2013).

How to Build Your Emotional Toolkit (Without Demonizing Food)

Instead of asking “How do I stop emotional eating?” consider asking:

“What else could help me care for myself in this moment?”

Here are some ideas to explore, not as rules, but as resources:

Call a trusted friend or therapist
Go for a walk or practice gentle movement, notice how this shifts your emotional state (and how).
Engage in grounding or sensory-based activities (ex. take a warm shower, engage with textured objects/ fidgets, savour the scent of essential oils, )
Journal your feelings or draw them out — don’t think, your body-mind knows how to process emotions through creativity (trust the process).
Rest or nap (without guilt) — sometimes your body-mind simply need a break.
Use breathwork (like box breathing) or self-soothing touch.

Important: food can still be part of your coping strategy—and that’s okay.

For real. Food still might be your tool of choice, but that’s the point. it’s a choice.

A Compassionate Choice Point

Rather than asking, “How do I stop emotional eating?” try asking, “What am I feeling—and what do I need right now?”

This is the choice point—where we pause and consider:

Do I need something warm and soothing right now? That might be food.
Do I need connection, rest, movement, or expression?
Can I access another tool from my emotional care kit?

This isn't about replacing food as comfort. It's about expanding your options—with self-compassion (not shame).

Over time, you may find that you're better able to tune in and choose from a wider menu of supportive strategies. And sometimes? You’ll still choose food. That’s okay.

Yes, I just repeated myself, intentionally. Because I really want you to hear that core message here. Sometimes you’ll still choose to soothe, distract, or entertain with food, and that’s genuinely ok.

Final Thoughts

Emotional eating doesn’t mean you’re doing Intuitive Eating wrong. It means you’re human. When you meet that moment with curiosity and care, you create space for deeper healing—not just around food, but around your entire emotional life.

So the next time you reach for food in a moment of feeling? Try replacing judgment with this: “I’m allowed to meet my needs with compassion. Let’s see what I need most right now.”

Onward in thriving,

Gillian