My entire life, I have been SO scared of eating. That’s just the way it’s been.
I was so scared of getting fat (again, because little baby me “came out like a
ten pound killer chicken” as my family refers lol).
But I remember offering to let someone borrow my shirt, and they responded “no way your clothes are way too big for me.”
And I felt stupid being the only kid who wanted seconds.
I would go to bed thinking about what I wanted for breakfast and just be mad that I couldn’t think about anything else.
But when I finally started getting taller and my belly started slimming out I felt proud, of all things. And I was surrounded by people who told me I should be proud.
Later in life still, I got scared all over again. I always knew about the freshman 15 lbs. My sister went to university first and that’s pretty much all she talked about, how she was scared of gaining weight. I began to think there wasn’t anything else she was learning about in school.
So when I came to university, I was ready. “Don’t eat Kraft Dinner more than once every two weeks.” “Don’t buy chips.” “Don’t order pizza.” You guys, I was literally scared to eat SOUP when I was SICK because I thought it would make me fat.
That kind of mindset is absolutely insane to me now. I just found a sheet of coupons for McDonald’s and you bet your ASS I’ll be there.
I don’t think there’s any way to put this that’s not gonna anger a WHOLE breed of gym rats, but bread and pasta are NOT the enemy. Shut up about it already. WE GET IT. YOU’RE UNHAPPY.
And you know what? I’m gonna say it. Nudes and Nutrls SUCK. Okay? If you’re gonna pretend like the flavour that tastes like someone washed an orange peel in vodka water is good just to avoid the 200 calories, then go right ahead, I’ll get a sangria.
Rant = over. Back to my point.
But I remember offering to let someone borrow my shirt, and they responded “no way your clothes are way too big for me.”
And I felt stupid being the only kid who wanted seconds.
I would go to bed thinking about what I wanted for breakfast and just be mad that I couldn’t think about anything else.
But when I finally started getting taller and my belly started slimming out I felt proud, of all things. And I was surrounded by people who told me I should be proud.
Later in life still, I got scared all over again. I always knew about the freshman 15 lbs. My sister went to university first and that’s pretty much all she talked about, how she was scared of gaining weight. I began to think there wasn’t anything else she was learning about in school.
So when I came to university, I was ready. “Don’t eat Kraft Dinner more than once every two weeks.” “Don’t buy chips.” “Don’t order pizza.” You guys, I was literally scared to eat SOUP when I was SICK because I thought it would make me fat.
That kind of mindset is absolutely insane to me now. I just found a sheet of coupons for McDonald’s and you bet your ASS I’ll be there.
I don’t think there’s any way to put this that’s not gonna anger a WHOLE breed of gym rats, but bread and pasta are NOT the enemy. Shut up about it already. WE GET IT. YOU’RE UNHAPPY.
And you know what? I’m gonna say it. Nudes and Nutrls SUCK. Okay? If you’re gonna pretend like the flavour that tastes like someone washed an orange peel in vodka water is good just to avoid the 200 calories, then go right ahead, I’ll get a sangria.
Rant = over. Back to my point.
I checked my weight, when I was at home 6 months ago. And 6 months later, 20
lbs heavier (yes you read that right), and I have. Never. Felt. So. Good.
You wanna know the secret to loving your body?
It’s eating the cupcake with icing and sprinkles. It’s getting a tattoo your mom probably hates. It’s shaving your legs and putting coconut butter on them. It’s painting your nails. It’s enjoying a glass of wine (or a bottle). It’s filling the plate FULL of spaghetti. It’s going on an evening walk in the sunshine. It’s playing fetch with your puppies.
It’s wearing pink eye shadow. And pink everything. It’s brushing your hair for the first time in months. It’s learning to floss twice a day. It’s looking in the mirror before you get in the shower and knowing you’re gonna do it all again tomorrow.
Look, I went through a phase over the last six months of just feeling pity on myself. Wondering why life has to do things that hurt me. And then I woke up one day, and realized the only person who’s gonna defend me from the universe is ME.
All I’m saying is that I had to toss a couple pairs of jeans, but I’ve never felt more confident in a tight shirt. I just feel good. And when I’m hungry I eat whatever I want. And I go on the most beautiful walks. And I actually enjoy going to the gym (thank god). And things just feel different. I want to take care of myself.
The secret to loving your body is recognizing that if you want your body to look a certain way, it’s achievable, and you don’t even have to lose (or gain) a single pound.
You just start to love it.
And if you don’t love what you’ve got, you can change it.
That’s the crazy thing about our bodies, they’re here for us no matter what. When we call them names and be mean to them, our bodies just take it. But crazy things also happen when you start being nice to them too.
I wish I could erase the years I spent turning down a piece of cake at the birthday. Or putting my plate in the dishwasher when I was still hungry for more. Or skipping out on a lake day cause I didn’t like how I was looking that day and I didn’t want to be seen in a swimsuit.
And I wish I could take it away for people who are still feeling all those things.
The moral of the story here is that you’re taught to hate the body you’re in, unless you look like a Victoria’s Secret model or The Rock.
But really, when you grow old, and look back on your life, you should be thinking about the incredible life you lived, the family you had, the feasts, and concerts, and everything. You’re going to think of the martinis you enjoyed by the lake with your friends. You’re gonna think of the times you hosted Super Bowl Sunday, or thanksgiving dinner.
People are not going to care that you kept the extra 10 pounds off. They're gonna care about the impact you had on them. You're gonna remember the love you shared, the puppies you raised, and you’re gonna be thankful you and your body made it through everything.
And trust me, when you’re dying, nobody is gonna care if you ate the pizza.
You wanna know the secret to loving your body?
It’s eating the cupcake with icing and sprinkles. It’s getting a tattoo your mom probably hates. It’s shaving your legs and putting coconut butter on them. It’s painting your nails. It’s enjoying a glass of wine (or a bottle). It’s filling the plate FULL of spaghetti. It’s going on an evening walk in the sunshine. It’s playing fetch with your puppies.
It’s wearing pink eye shadow. And pink everything. It’s brushing your hair for the first time in months. It’s learning to floss twice a day. It’s looking in the mirror before you get in the shower and knowing you’re gonna do it all again tomorrow.
Look, I went through a phase over the last six months of just feeling pity on myself. Wondering why life has to do things that hurt me. And then I woke up one day, and realized the only person who’s gonna defend me from the universe is ME.
All I’m saying is that I had to toss a couple pairs of jeans, but I’ve never felt more confident in a tight shirt. I just feel good. And when I’m hungry I eat whatever I want. And I go on the most beautiful walks. And I actually enjoy going to the gym (thank god). And things just feel different. I want to take care of myself.
The secret to loving your body is recognizing that if you want your body to look a certain way, it’s achievable, and you don’t even have to lose (or gain) a single pound.
You just start to love it.
And if you don’t love what you’ve got, you can change it.
That’s the crazy thing about our bodies, they’re here for us no matter what. When we call them names and be mean to them, our bodies just take it. But crazy things also happen when you start being nice to them too.
I wish I could erase the years I spent turning down a piece of cake at the birthday. Or putting my plate in the dishwasher when I was still hungry for more. Or skipping out on a lake day cause I didn’t like how I was looking that day and I didn’t want to be seen in a swimsuit.
And I wish I could take it away for people who are still feeling all those things.
The moral of the story here is that you’re taught to hate the body you’re in, unless you look like a Victoria’s Secret model or The Rock.
But really, when you grow old, and look back on your life, you should be thinking about the incredible life you lived, the family you had, the feasts, and concerts, and everything. You’re going to think of the martinis you enjoyed by the lake with your friends. You’re gonna think of the times you hosted Super Bowl Sunday, or thanksgiving dinner.
People are not going to care that you kept the extra 10 pounds off. They're gonna care about the impact you had on them. You're gonna remember the love you shared, the puppies you raised, and you’re gonna be thankful you and your body made it through everything.
And trust me, when you’re dying, nobody is gonna care if you ate the pizza.
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