As we sat down at the table, I surveyed the spread. Linda had replaced turkey with a soy product called Tofurky, which looked about as appetizing as cardboard. She had also swapped green-bean casserole for barely steamed broccoli, and —could it be?— her famous make-you-cry pies had been replaced with gently sliced pieces of fruit. I felt as though my erotic food fantasies had been taken hostage by a crazy dieting maniac.

I smothered my Tofurky in gravy as Linda reminisced about the good old days of stuffing, turkey and buttery mashed potatoes and recounted the fattening and delicious recipes she'd put away for her menu makeover. We were eating in a food flashback. There was no joy at the table, just fat talk about how much weight Linda hoped to lose during the holidays, how hard it was to say no to the sugar-laden cookies that her coworkers brought to the office, and how she couldn't help but listen to all the seasonal TV ads that insisted she eat, drink and get skinny.

She had a point. It takes guts not to get sucked into body bashing during the holidays, whether it's from coworkers, infomercials or the voice in your own head. Swallowing a forkful of broccoli, I thought about all the weight-loss ads I'd seen that encouraged women to lose those last 10 pounds during the party season. I had certainly been on my own share of bizarre, restrictive holiday diets. Cutting back on calories seemed like the perfect way to control the lethal combination of family dynamics and food. Instead of engaging in togetherness, celebration and gratitude, I could focus on the food, the fat and the weight. Talking about carbs and calories seemed much easier than discussing the loss of a loved one or the anticipation of a career change.