Not sure this has much to do with instinctual stackings, per se.. those may simply just be one's subjective means of explaining their own internal rationale for the relationship to/with food developed over time. Different stackings may articulate certain dimensions/influences more readily, etc, but in the end, I imagine it's still a mixed bag.
That said- what the hell, I'll toss in, anyway. I'm sp-dom & was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa yrs ago. I've since recovered. However, the dysfunctional thinking process never truly leaves, in some ways. I do focus a lot on eating the most healthy foods possible, & cut out needless fats where I can. I've always enjoyed healthy foods (lean meats, fresh produce, nuts, etc)- so it's not a diet that I really have to consciously maintain, if that makes sense. It's autopilot. Those, essentially, are good habits.
But- I've got some residual neuroses about portions, or knowing the caloric value/fat content of almost anything I consume, regardless. There lingers a distant fear of weight gain, though objectively I'm aware that's highly unlikely to happen due to good genetics & my own meticulous nature (I'm at the low end of healthy weight for my frame, & my weight doesn't fluctuate by more than 5lb). I abhor eating as a social activity, & mostly avoid restaurants. I also can't stand people giving me food with the expectation I'll eat it. I dislike the input of others in these matters or feeling as though that space is imposed upon at all. It's just intrusive noise.
A lot of that comes down to control for me, I guess. That need never really leaves, like I said. Never was really about what others thought/image I'd present to the world. Initial excessive shaming from my unstable mother obviously played a role in focusing on my weight, but it wasn't anything I thought about/reacted to, much. Never felt driven to prove myself to her or anyone else by modifying my appearance. The focus on weight- as something to continuously improve upon- just slowly evolved from increasingly overdoing healthy things. After buying a better bicycle (& enjoying my independence/time away from my crazy house), my activity levels increased, which resulted in a more toned body. I liked this change. I wanted to be healthy. So on I went. Restricting sugary things. Restricting fats. And I actually felt good, at that point. So I kept upping the ante. Something inside just latched on. Cutting out entire food groups. Extending cardio. Then started skipping meals because watching those numbers drop off felt like an accomplishment in of itself. "Health" ceased to matter, or even exist. Who needs "health" when you feel like your own god? High on the power you have over yourself. Feeling ribs felt secure. This is mine, I did this. Just my own distorted standards. Aching to meet them to control some element of my turbulent life. In moments of clarity, I was still too sick to care about what I was doing; too addicted to the power. Self Destruct initiated.
That's just a fragment. The mindset doesn't translate well to spoken word, which again, kind of illustrates how multifaceted the issue is (how psych issues are in general), & perhaps how our self-assigned categories are inconsequential beyond the realm of observation/expression for the sake of it (which does have its merits, of course). So many variables.
