For the past few years and ever since I can remember, I’ve been trying to lose weight. I have been on so many diets and cleanses, I could write a book. I finally figured out recently that what I need is regular exercise and a healthy eating plan. so I’ve been trying to work out consistently and eat healthy and while I can testify that my energy levels have shot to the roof, my weight loss has been really slow. It’s been a rollercoaster ride with numerous ups and downs. The biggest problem has not been how hard it is to lose the pounds but how easy it is to gain them back. And every month just as I’m starting to think I’m making substantial progress, nature throws me a biological curve ball.
I am coming to terms with the fact that I’m a big girl. At size 12/14 I’m bordering on being plus sized. I look at myself in the mirror and try to figure out how to go down to being a size 8. There are times when I’m confident that my body is okay but most times I look at myself with dismay wondering why the hell I had to get my father’s features. Why do I have to love food that much? Sometimes the self loath gets so intense that I’m tempted to induce throwing up. It wouldn’t be so bad if I was bulimic right? But of course I freak out and I’m much too lazy to stick to sticking my finger down my mouth every time so I don’t go through with it. I think of starving myself sometimes but I always give in by 10 AM. So I try to work out whenever I can and eat healthy whenever I can but the sad truth is I may always struggle with my weight.
I’ve been putting this forward and never getting round to it. Writing should come easy considering the number of things that flash through my mind. But the speed at which they do is probably the cause of the chronic writer’s block. So here I am, Emelie Sande in my headphones, stuck in traffic and the keypad under my thumbs. Just the right conditions for me to zone out and try to focus on my fleeting thoughts.
The biggest issue on my mind recently has been my weight. Once upon a time I was a skinny kid. But that was eons ago. Since puberty struck, the numbers on the scale have been alternating like a teenager’s moods. And now in my 20’s, it continues to spiral out of control. I’ve been a size 10 and 12. The problem is probably that I know exactly what the problem is.