That is so not me ^^^ If it were, and my scale read 115, you’d be able to hear my joyful cries all the way in your comfy, cozy homes. I will never be 115. I’m ok with that.
I turned 30 back in December. It wasn’t a big deal to me, not at all. Age is just a number, and it’s all relative. You can’t slap a number on yourself and let it dictate who you are, age or weight. I have to remind myself of that often when i think of how much weight I’ve gained since I got married. Granted, that was nearly 12 years and two kids ago, but still…
When I started my efforts to become a slimmer, healthier me back in August (almost exactly 11 years after my marriage) I was 75 lbs heavier than on my wedding day. That’s a lot of Chinese take-out, Olive Garden and Girl Scout cookies. A lot. Since August, I’ve limited (not cut out completely) many of the food I love, but to some degree, it makes me love them more. Those Tagalongs taste even better than they did last year. The salad at the OG is more than just a salad. And Chinese, oh how I still love thee. Just not twice a week anymore.
The pay off? In 7 months, I’ve dropped 30 lbs. Thirty pounds. I could have been all self-deprecating and probably lost at least another 15, but I might not have stuck with it. Denying yourself everything gets old. Quick. Everything in moderation makes for a happy girl.
At least most of the time.