Once upon a time, I looked like a Pez Machine and had a 28 inch waistline. Of course that was during an ancient time when Robin S. had a hit on the radio and Ecstasy cost less than a pack of cigarettes. It's ironic that my old body, that was a total turn-off in the 90's, is now all the rage among male models and rocker boys.
Since then I've fluctuated back and forth. Now I've never been rotund but when you're used to being a stick figure, seeing a scale inch closer to the "200" mark is a little shocking. I looked at my self shirtless in the mirror six months ago and wondered "What Happened?".
Well, my thirties happened for one and so did a long term relationship- there's at least ten pounds right there. Couple that with years of drinking like one of the Barrymores, increased laziness, and a romance with my TiVo and Voila! You're nearly 200 pounds.
Not ready to embrace my inner-bear or eager to starve myself, I had to come up with a plan. So I quit drinking, which was a separate problem but also a contributing factor. I'm a person who loves food so dieting is not an option but I also love walking. I decide to smaller portions of whatever the hell I wanted but to increase the amount I walked.
Four months later, I'm still sober and I've lost nearly 17 pounds! Moreover, I feel really good. I'm proud of myself and I like who I see in the mirror. Sure, I wish I could be the person who loved themselves regardless of how much they weigh and I know my battle is far from over. But I've got a great man, amazing friends and family, and adorable pets who support me regardless of my pant size. So it's still complicated but I'm working on it....
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