My husband eats junk all the time and never gains an ounce. The sheer volume of food that goes into his body is astonishing. It makes me sick
Cooking is a talent of mine and I genuinely love to do it. Almost everything I make is from scratch. I grew up in the traditions of southern food as comfort and social activity.
The kids of course love fast food and anything sugar. We have company over to eat on a regular basis. It has become second nature to have some homemade dessert on hand pretty much every day. As I type this I have butter softening on my kitchen counter to bake some homemade chocolate chip cookies later.
Before I'd have tasted little spoons of dough as I wait for batches to come out of the oven, and eaten a couple every time I passed through the kitchen. I shudder to think how many I actually consumed without even thinking about the numbers.
I know that every pound down on the scale is work for me. As delicious as those cookies may be, they aren't worth undoing that effort. NOTHING tastes as good as getting thin feels. My problem isn't finding the willpower to lose the weight. As much food as passes through this house I know that if I don't eat those cookies, it's not like it's a special occasion. There'll be an abundance of them available in my future.
Once I lose the weight is when I get complacent. I get right back into old habits because the temptation never ends. This time I'm hoping to combat that by substitution. Today-and hopefully permanently-I won't bake those cookies unless I have something healthier that I like on hand. Standing there empty-handed while everyone else scarfs down something yummy is the worst. If I'm chewing on an alternative it's not quite as bad.