You don’t have to look twice at my booty to see that I like to eat. And yes, I don’t just like it—I lovvvvvvvvvve it. I love cooking and baking, but I have to be in the mood. And my comfort foods depend on my mood as well. The last big food binge I had was at camp. I made the error of shopping while hungry, so by the time I hit the checkout I was like a kid in a candy store–right down to the Little Debbie snack cakes and Cheetos Puffs.
When I get in Fatgirl mode I can eat an impossible amount of food. A food-eating contest amount of food. It’s obscene and I’m equally ashamed and proud of it. I can eat out of boredom, but usually I eat my feelings. I’ve put on about 1-1.5 sizes since last summer, there have been many feelings to eat. I started drinking soda again, and having treats for no reason, drinking on more than my days off. The thing about wearing dresses so often is they are super comfy and it takes a LONG time before you realize it’s tighter than it should be. The last few weeks I’ve had it in my head that I need to make some adjustments. I even threatened the household with a sugar-ban. The thing about that is that you can force someone to change. I’ve been married a decade–trust me on that one. So I’m making the changes for myself. Today I got up and went for a walk. I didn’t go far, but I did take my daughter—she’s the only one that can keep up with me when I powerwalk. Tomorrow I will go again, a little further. That’s how this works, a little at a time, a new change here and there. Before I know it, I’ll be wearing my summer shorts and gardening in my bathing suit with no shame whatsoever. And the next time I get the feels, I’ll head to Los Bravos for some fish tacos.