Remember when I said I wasn't dieting? Well...

Okay…so remember when I said I wasn’t dieting anymore? I was like standing on a mountaintop and the wind was blowing through my hair and I had a flag that was flapping and I raised my fist in the air and said “I! Will! Not! Diet!!”

Remember that?

Yeah. I was totally lying. Sorry about that. I wasn’t intentionally bullshitting. I mean, that day when I wrote about it, I totally believed it. I was tired of obsessing and feeling bad about myself and feeling guilty for everything I put in my mouth. Well. Ahem. Not everything. Not everything I put in my mouth has calories.


(Groan. Bad joke. Bad.)


Anyway. I believed it. I was committed to it. I had three days of guilt free eating and relaxing. And then I stepped on the scale.


Now, my pants have been getting tight and I was certain it was just that I had the dryer on high. I turned it down to medium. And I couldn’t remember my stomach ever being so muffin-toppy, but memory, sheesh. It does weird things. That muther humper scale though…she’d tell me the truth. And she did. The bitch.


I’m at my heaviest weight in seven years. I’m heavier than when I was pregnant (course I threw up nonstop then). What happened? Why do I care?


I don’t know. My feet hurt when I exercise. I love food. I’m happy. Blah blah blah. But the truth is, with my clothes tight and my face puffy in pictures, I don’t feel like myself anymore. And there’s that tricky little thing of being super high risk for diabetes, since I had gestational diabetes with both my kids.


So I’m dieting.


I’m trying to do it right this time though. No Weight Watchers or Flat Belly Diets or grapefruit or protein shakes. I’m just keeping track of the calories I eat with a handy little app for my iPod touch. I’m upping my walking and exercise, etc. And the farmer’s market will open soon and I plan on consuming plenty of fresh produce again.


It does suck though. At least this time I’m doing it not because I feel pressure from anyone else. (My boyfriend says I’m sexier than ever.) This time I’m doing it for myself. No cocky proclaiming now.


I’ll save that whole proclamation on a mountain thing for the next time I’m PMSing.