True Story

True Story. About five years ago, I get this brilliant idea. I'm going to lose all this weight that I've been carrying around my whole life. I enlist my sister (who, at the time, was my roommate) and we go on the South Beach diet. Then, we join Curves. We're wildly successful. I don't know how many pounds my sister lost, but I lost something like a hundred. (I didn't keep good records, I only kept track of pants size, how hungry I was, and how good I felt.) I almost never went hungry (unless I missed a snack), I felt great and I went from a size 28 to a size 14 or a 16. I got to shop at regular clothing stores with my friends. It was amazing! Also, I looked smoking hot. I have seriously long legs, and I'd never realized that before.


And, then I went to graduate school and met a guy and got engaged and it all went to hell.

So, now I'm back to square one. I've put all the weight back on. All of the weight. I've broken up with the guy (he was a total loser. Love really does cause blindness.), I'm still in grad school and I have a fabulous kitten I rescued from a parking lot and some nice houseplants. But, I'm so very, very angry at myself for being back at this weight. Basically, things are pretty great, setting aside the rage and the weight gain. And, if I lost it before, I can lose it again, right?


I'd like to say that I've started this because I'm ready to lose the weight again, for reals, y'all, and that I'm ready to work through my issues. But, that isn't really the case. Mostly, its because I'm a stubborn bitch that's pissed at herself for being back here. Also, its a little bit because I had all this diet stuff sorted and now that I've put the weight back on all these skinny folks keep trying to give me tips. Don't get me wrong, every little bit helps, but seriously, five minutes in my amazing three-inch heels and all you skinny bitches would weep. I already drink diet and count my steps, eat my veggie burgers (that I make myself, by the way) without the bun and I'm a firm believer that a half-cup 10-calorie sugar-free jello cup hits the sweet spot every time. I'm fierce, and don't you forget it.

I suspect that this blog will turn into a lot of ranting about society and body issues and all manner of shit that doesn't really pertain to weight loss, but that's really the name of the game, isn't it? Its not what you look like, its how you feel in your own skin. And, if I can get back to feeling smokin' hot, whether it be at a BMI within the healthy range or a BMI that suggests that my heart is actually pumping around congealed fat instead of blood, I'll have succeeded. That's all I really care about.