I was talking to my mom the other day (who is about 10 lbs heavier than me, after i lost almost 50 lbs...clearly i didn't get the genes from her) and she was saying how she doesn't understand how she got so big and it makes her really depressed. We talked about emotional eating, and bad eating habits and everything. I did get that from her, but I realized something. I know exactly why I got fat: I LOVE TO EAT!!
Seriously, I LOVE eating! I got fat because I love to eat pizza and cupcakes and cannolis and cookies and pasta and brownies and rice krispie treats with icing on them and ohhhhh the list goes on. I just love to eat. And when I ate, I loved it. I loved every second of getting fat. Sure I had my nights where Ben and Jerry were my only comfort, but those were few and far between. I simply love to eat. There's no deep-seeded self hatred. When I was fat, I LOVED my body. Mostly because I didn't give it two thoughts. I was almost 200 lbs and I KNEW I was the hottest 21 year old at the club. ****, my right butt-cheek could squish any skinny girl that started flirting with my men.
Here I am, 2 years after my weight-loss journey began, and almost 50 lbs down (and 10 lbs back up hehe) and I still LOVE to eat. I've learned though, that to be able to lead a long life full of happy meals, I need to eat smarter, and move my big butt cheeks. I've learned, that contrary to popular belief, you don't have to give up the things you love to be healthy. Because really, if we give up what we love, is that actually healthy?
So, I look at pictures of me 46 lbs ago and I'm proud, not just because of how far I've come since then, but because I like the girl in those pictures as much as I like the one in the mirror today. Only the one I see today has more of a chance of living a longer life...full of brownies