Hot Pink, High Heels, & Explosions

I’m done dieting and obsessing over working out.  Yep, I said it.  I know this will come as a shock to some people, but I usually do not get that euphoric high from working out.  I do not bound delightfully to the gym, excited for todays adventures in spinning or running.  If I am running, the Zombie Apocalypse is upon us and you should run in the same direction.

In addition, I enjoy eating the following on a regular basis: Bread; Cheese (Saga Blue Brie is my favorite); Butter; Ice Cream; Milk.  Normally regular Coke Classic would e on my list but I’ve been off the Coca-Cola Classic Crack for a week..and it is PAINFUL! #thestruggle

However, the point is that I don’t want a diet filled with only one type of food, that restricts other types that I really adore, or that fills me full of tastebud altering chemicals that mimic what I really want to be eating (Fat-Free Cheese is the devil….just saying).  In fact, it may be surprising to find out that I typically don’t even eat enough already.  What?!  A woman who is larger than a size 4 does not eat 500 thousand calories a day to get that way?!  Yes, folks!  It’s true.  I have to work to eat 1,660 calories in a day, which is what myfitnesspal says I should be eating.  Sometimes I make it, sometimes I exceed it, but most days I’m well under.

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Normally I am a worry wart about my weight.  I worry when I eat, I worry when I don’t work out.  I worry when a pair of pants fits a little too snugly.  I hate shopping some days.  However, what really bothers me is that I am NOT worried because of my health.  I am worried because I have learned to covet every scrap of real and faux approval I get due to my size.  Very murmur that I am thin, small, fit, pretty, so on.  Each and every morsel of approval I pocket and keep for a rainy day.  Since honestly, I’m a former fat kid — and its nice for someone to say more than “You have a pretty face.”

But kids, its HARD keeping up appearances.  When I go into Fall exams, I always gain weight — and get sick.  That time is the worse — so I’m fat AND sick. What?  I’m exhausted, I’m stressed, I’m worried about grades, and then someone comes up and mentions that I’ve put on a little weight.  Ya’ll better be glad that I want to run for office someday and can’t cut you….

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