As a kid, my favorite books to read were authored by Judy Blume. She wrote about things that mattered to a pre-pubescent and adolescent girl. Things like developing boobs, getting your period, being teased at school and having crushes on boys. I devoured her books because they were about real things that I could relate to. But once shamed for liking these books the experience became a bittersweet one. What is this tendency of emotional eaters to feel shame for things we enjoy, and how we can turn that around, now that we are adults?