I have had
to “work at” my weight most all of my life. I was a chubby little girl and I
was a semi-chubby teenager. It wasn’t until my late teens that I learned how to
keep my weight under control. And by “learned” I mean, by just not eating, by starving
myself.
I can
remember getting headaches, the horrible kind of headaches that make you sick –
from not eating. All for the sake of being attractive to some boy, or to feel
like I fit in.
I’ve always
been a picky-eater, and still am to this day. There are so many “healthy”
things to eat that I just do not like. I have tried them again even as an
adult, and unfortunately, though many have said their appetites and taste
sensory’s changed with age – mine did not.
I WANT to like salad, I really do. I see them all decked out with chunks of meats and cheeses, but it’s all the other stuff that gets in the way. You know, the healthy stuff like lettuce, kale, spinach, radishes, tomatoes, and onions etc.
I WANT to like salad, I really do. I see them all decked out with chunks of meats and cheeses, but it’s all the other stuff that gets in the way. You know, the healthy stuff like lettuce, kale, spinach, radishes, tomatoes, and onions etc.
And so, as
is glaringly obvious, I still have a huge problem with my weight because I like
foods that don’t like me, or that aren’t good for me. And starving yourself
doesn’t work as you grow older. It only makes you “hangry” and difficult to
work with and live with.
I was having
a group text conversation the other night with some friends of mine who suffer
from the same disease of loving to eat. One of them was saying it only took her
two weeks to overcome her addiction of bread, pasta, potatoes and chocolate.
Once she got past that two weeks – she no longer even thought about it.
To the first friend I said this: I will NEVER not love bread. I will NEVER not want bread. And that while I am sure that I would feel better if I could shed myself of that addiction, I probably never will – so much so that even from my grave, I would snatch a sandwich right out of your hands should you have a picnic around me one day when I’m gone.
To the first friend I said this: I will NEVER not love bread. I will NEVER not want bread. And that while I am sure that I would feel better if I could shed myself of that addiction, I probably never will – so much so that even from my grave, I would snatch a sandwich right out of your hands should you have a picnic around me one day when I’m gone.
Another
friend told me in that same conversation, that you could eat bread on the
weight watcher’s food plan. And to my
second friend I said this: “Not three baskets of Texas Roadhouse yeast rolls
you can’t”. And she said, “Well not all at one time.” And I replied, “And there
within lies the problem”.
In case
you’re wondering what prompted these latest conversations and my conversation
with you now; I saw a picture that was taken of me the other day, and it was
not flattering in the least. It made me want to cry, but mostly it made me want
to have my eyes checked because I must be blind not to be able to see myself
like that in the mirror every day. So my new goal is to take it one day at the
time, do my best to do better, so that I can live longer.
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