Today I have one of my very favourite blogging buddies here for a visit. She is a clever clever blogger and enchants all of her readers with her style and conversation. Despite having "known" one another for a few years via blogging; despite sending one another gifts as well as virtual love and support, we have never met. No matter - I feel that I know her well - which is utterly delightful.
So please welcome my friend Maxabella, who is guest posting for me today. I sense she will be right at home here...
|Image by Tim Coulson|
So, I’ve been on a diet for about 22 years now... maybe even longer, although I barely count the angst ridden teens when skipping lunch made me feel self-righteous enough to eat two dinners.
Twenty two years is a long time to be doing anything, let alone something you’re clearly not very good at. It’s certainly true that I have not been traditionally successful at weight loss, but my Twenty Two Year Diet (snappy book title, right?) has at least been successful at keeping me marginally smaller than a house. So, that’s got to count for something, right?
I like to think I’ve learned something along the way. Something more interesting than ‘If you always do what you always did, you'll always get what you always got‘ (so true) and ‘No matter how slow you go, you are still lapping everyone on the couch’ (probably true) and ‘nothing tastes as good as being skinny feels’ (so not true).
I’ve learned that my struggle is with delaying gratification, not with being fat.
I’ve learned that my struggle is with denial, not with being fat.
I’ve learned that my struggle is with rebellion, not with being fat.
I guess my (very big) bottom line is that somewhere deep inside me I don’t really mind being ‘the big girl’. I’ve always wanted to believe that you can still be attractive, healthy and important, even if you’re bigger. You can do everything you need to do and be anything you want to be. You don’t have to wait. You don’t have to spend your whole life wishing you were different.
I guess I’ve learned that I don’t want it to matter. I don’t want to spend the next 22 years wishing I was different; I want to be healthy and be okay, just as I am. I’m just not sure how I’m going to do that...