I've spent a significant portion of my adult life thinking "I should lose 10 pounds". And I have - several times. Having been through the process, I fully realize that the only thing that changes is my dress size. As a size 10 rather than a 12, I still need to deal with bad drivers, stoop and scoop after the dog, pay my bills. But these things seem a bit easier when my pants aren't pinching my waist.
I thought I'd have come to terms with my weight by now - either I'd have mastered maintaining the weight loss or I'd have accepted my body as it is. At 51, I have no desire to stroll down a beach in a bikini - my kids would be horrified and rightfully so. My doctor is happy with my weight although she'd like me to exercise more regularly. My partner has no complaints.
It seems it might be easiest to buy some stretch waist jeans and get on with my life.
But the legacy of several decades of diets seems to be that if one is not actively losing weight, one is packing it on. What happens when the size 12 jeans start to pinch? I'd rather not find out.
It seems #10 on my bucket list needs revision - daily servings of chocolate cake are out.
Too bad about the chocolate cake. Maybe weekly servings...
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