Four Letter Word: Diet

My mom put me on a diet when I was in the 3rd grade.  I wasn’t fat, she said, I was just plump.  My gym instructor put me on a diet last week.  After a week of counting carbs and fat, I realized I’m not any better off than I was in 3rd grade.   I struggle with the same things: I still cringe at the word, “plump”, and I still fight cravings and resent deprivation.  By deprivation, I don’t mean starvation.  I can pretty much state with complete honesty that I’ve never missed a meal.  By deprivation, I mean I want something and I tell myself I can’t have it.  On the one hand, this is probably a good thing.  On the other, I get pretty pissy about it.  It’s not like the 42 years that I’ve been dieting have turned me into the svelte bikini-clad girl I thought it would. And yet, I keep saying, “If I just try harder.” It suddenly dawned on me that this is the body I showed up with and it’s apparently the body I’m going out with.  Now I need to work on being nicer to myself without going hog wild on the M&Ms I’ve kept from myself for the past 42 years.  

I like to hear what you think, if it's not mean spirited.

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