When losing weight means losing something else...

I admit it - I try to keep slim. But I still worry about the relentless emphasis on calorie counting that fills whole column yards in the media.

That's not only because too much emphasis on diet is counterproductive; time and again it's been proven that simply eating when you are hungry and stopping when you are full is the best way to keep weight under control. My worry about the calorie counting brigade is also because I am firmly convinced that most eating problems are underpinned by some sort of emotional element.

Personally, I'm convinced by my own behaviour - quite simply if I'm under stress I mysteriously find myself opening the fridge door... for the seventh time that evening.

Professionally, I'm convinced by the behaviour of my readers - who in letter after letter reveal to me just how closely their weight is linked with their emotional state.

Scenario number one: eating for confidence. Low self-esteem, relationship abuse, under-achievement women in particular fill the low confidence hole in their lives by filling their mouths with food. If they feel good about themselves, the pounds drop off.

Scenario number two: eating for protection. If a woman feels vulnerable around others, particularly around men, she eats to gain weight and make herself feel invisible. If she starts to feel more in control of her relationships and her life, she doesn't need to be weighty.

Scenario number three: eating for anaesthetisation. If a woman is furious - or grief stricken, or afraid - and she doesn't want to show her fury or grief at those she loves, then she may eat to dull the sensations. Resolve the anger or the mourning and she won't need to over-consume.

Lesson here, for all of us. Next time you open the fridge door, ask yourself if it's really food you want. Or is it a confidence boost... an increased sense of control... comfort... a good cry... or permission to protest something bad that is happening in your life. Simply close the fridge door and go for it direct.

You're not fat!

Coincidence is a funny thing. On the train this morning I sat opposite two boys and a girl, delightful teenagers of about 14 or 15. No, really, they were lovely - chatting among themselves about school, homework, friends, and what they'd done over the weekend.

But trains being what they are, I caught most of what they were saying, and when the girl started talking about a classmate, whom she eulogised for her face and figure, my attention homed in on the phrase "She's so skinny... whereas I'm fat."

I glanced across to see a sylphlike creature, with a waist you could have circled in both hands. And I winced. But I wasn't the only one - her male friends immediately took up the challenge. "You're not fat... come on... you look great."

The Sylph was having none of it. She protested, argued, pushed back. But worryingly, this wasn't out of false modesty; there were no flirty giggles as she asserted that she really ought to lose the fat on her stomach (what stomach?). She was deadly serious in her belief that she was overweight and needed to lose half a stone. I winced again.

As we reached London and all got up to leave the train, my wincing turned into an active discomfort - and suddenly I abandoned that English rule about never talking to strangers. I tapped the Sylph on the shoulder and gently made my point... that she wasn't fat but slim, slim, slim... that I received countless letters from women with eating disorders... and that she desperately needed to rethink her body image.

The Sylph was shyly polite. Her male friends were fabulous "we keep telling her that... maybe now she'll listen...". We parted with mutual smiles.

But I did wonder, as I walked away, whether if she didn't listen to her mates she would listen to that strange woman who had accosted her on a train. And I also wondered whether, if she didn't listen, how she would end up.

I began this blog entry with the words "Coincidence is a funny thing." - and you're probably wondering where the coincidence in this tale lies. Well here we go. This morning's press covered a study by the Schools Health Education Unit which revealed that over half the teenage girls in Britain believe they need to lose weight, while 40% typically miss breakfast - and sometimes lunch - in an attempt to emulate the sticklike status of their celebrity idols.

I strongly suspect that one of that 40% travelled opposite me on the London train this morning....