Everybody has a stumbling block and mine is weight loss. I’m torn between wanting to lose weight and my love of food. I must admit, my love of food usually wins. Despite what Weight Watchers wants us to believe, a lot of things taste better than skinny feels.
Several years ago, on the day after Thanksgiving, I posted on social media that I was eating leftover pie for breakfast. A not so friendly “friend” commented, “Do you not care about yourself?” As a matter of fact, I like myself SO much that I think I deserve pie for breakfast! Where does this idea come from that if you eat, you must hate yourself?
For as long as I can remember, food has been a reward. My family didn’t eat out much when I was growing up, but on special occasions, we went out for pizza. If my softball team won a game, we’d all go get ice cream afterward. Food is not a punishment or sign of self-loathing. Did your mother ever say to you, “You sit there and eat that cake until your attitude improves”? Did your dad say, “That’s it! You’re grounded. You’ll be eating extra helpings for the rest of the week!”?
Down here in the South, we show love with food. My great-grandmother always encouraged her guests to have an extra slice of pie and would be hurt if they turned her down. To say no would be rejecting her love. Maybe that’s why I don’t deprive myself of the foods I love.
I’ve written about my happy fat life before (read here ) and not much has changed. I’m still sabotaging my own weight loss. I’d rather eat chocolate than chicken. I prefer potatoes and pasta over parsnips and purple cabbage. Bread is better than broccoli. Carrot cake beats carrots. I could go on like this all day.
So when you see me carrying a few (ok, more than just a few) extra pounds, don’t jump to any negative conclusions. I’ve just been showing myself a lotta love for a lotta years.