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Being eight months pregnant and looking at thin beautiful models in Elle magazine is no time to hatch an idea about losing weight. But that’s what happened to me. I have been large all my life. My thought was; if I could lose the weight this time, and get down to my dream size of 10, I would feel complete, accomplished and achieved a dream that had eluded me all my life. Just to look anything like those models might help me attain more, be better, prettier and happier. Statistics continue to show good-looking people get more, go further in life. Womeninquire.com states, “good looking people are typically judged to be more talented, kind, honest and intelligent than their less attractive counterparts.” So why not me? I know this sounds far fetched, but these are exactly the thoughts that crossed my mind and started my yearlong odyssey with weight loss.
Nothing was easy about this and I did it completely on my own. The real reason I started this journey by myself is because deep down I knew if I didn’t take complete control I would never take it seriously. It would be too easy to blame others for losing only a couple pounds. If it were up to me alone, I would have to except complete failure or complete success for my actions. Charles Stuart Platkin, Ph.D., M.P.H at www.active.com says, “Create a responsible attitude right now; recognize that you are the only one who can make something happen in your life.” There’s something else about me you should know, I don’t like to fail.
If you had told my journey would include: depression, success, exhilaration, disgust, quitting and restarting I probably wouldn’t have even started. Even at diet-blog.com they estimates the number of diets which fail is typically given as about 95%.” But back then I thought, “if I can push a baby out I could certainly lose weight, couldn’t I?” What better time to start than when I had to shed my post- pregnancy-baby-fat?
Before I shrunk myself to a size 10, I was a size 16. All my life I have been big, I blamed it on big bones, getting my fathers massive rib cage and mothers pouch belly. But the truth is I love food and couldn’t say no. My husband loves food too. Together we ate ourselves silly. I really can’t blame him either, as before I even meet him, I would eat as if it was the last bowl of ice cream I would ever have. As if I couldn’t just go to the grocery store and buy it when I wanted it.
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