This post is inspired from reading French Women Don’t Get Fat and I truly believe the possibility of being able to drink and eat whatever I want is possible. Also, I’m only like 11 pages deep and just watched Joy so I’m inspired and empowered as hell. Has anyone else read this book or fell in love with Joy as much as I have?
If you’re looking to wake up with a body like Beyoncé, you’ve come to the wrong place. And no, magical sorcery was not involved. I didn’t lose ANY weight. Also, this isn’t another 3-day detox nor have I shunned all the healthy foods from my life. This isn’t something all the cool kids are trying out. I’m not trying to format a convincing argument of why you should live an unhealthy life. No, today I am telling the story of the subtle pros and evil cons that stumbled along as I quit dieting.
For Example: My relationship with food has flourished to a much deeper, passionate level. Nonetheless, I am probably spending more money on eating out than I have in my lifetime BUT all the weight I’ve gained has gone to my boobs. So…there’s that.
In case you’re unfamiliar with the subject of non dieting it is usually described, or known as, the Seefood diet.
The Seefood Diet (n): A dietary practice where individuals follow the insane belief of eating every delicious piece of food they see. Also known as the “foodie” diet or just the “you’re a fucking fat ass diet.”[show_shopthepost_widget id=”2138007″]
My dietary habits have never been particularly enviable. I guess you could say I am (or was) mediocre in the sense that food was just another part of the day I had to get through. Emotions never took over my appetite. I never stuffed my feelings with food except for my occasional hungover hungry meltdowns. I’ve never been super fit or overweight. Except for that awkward stage when I was a little girl and stuffed my face with donuts and Ho Ho’s every single night.
One year I looked in a mirror and told myself, “I gotta lay off the fucking donuts”. I swore to never have one of those again. And I never ate a single donut ever again. Until one day I walked past the Salty Donut and my whole dietary life collapsed right in front of me. My taste buds reached the most nostalgic peak of my entire life. There I was an overweight child in glittery pants and light up shoes eating a maple bacon donut. I needed more. I was on a mission. So, I ate 1 more and bought 6 to go. My childhood-like senses all came back and ever bittersweet taste that touched my lips felt like heaven, if heaven were made up of cotton candy clouds, bacon trees, and chocolate covered streets.
From that moment on I felt truly happy. I didn’t feel a single strand of regret. Even as the vegan/gluten free woman told me how terrible they were for my health, I didn’t care. “Seriously? Why are you even here?!”, I yelled in a slight passive aggressive tone and an uninterested bitch face on. She swore it was for her nephews but deep down I knew she was just waiting to get home so she could stuff her face with them too.
Suddenly, I became one of those vegetarian nuts who tormented every meat-eater for every bite of chicken, steak, or pork chop they swallow. Except, I was judging everyone who chose to eat a fruit salad over chicken and waffles or 3 extra cheesy and double stuffed tacos. Life has so much more meaning when your mind does not revolve around what foods I shouldn’t be eating or beating myself up for eating out more than once a week.
There was not a single day in Italy where I didn’t stuff my face with paninis, gelato, pastas, or pizza. I had a beer for lunch, dinner, and sometimes breakfast everyday and my taste buds thanked me just as much as my stomach did. For months, my life has been at the epitome of happiness. I can think clearly because I am not constantly beating myself down for not losing the weight or thinking of why I must’ve gained all of it back. I know this new problematic way of living is probably terrible for me but I also know I hate feeling as if I’m limiting myself from the purest of happiness.
So What Happened…
The craziest thing is, although I’ve eaten out more times than I could possibly count and I’m not hitting the gym (I can barely walk a flight of stairs without hyperventilating), I haven’t gained as much weight as I thought I had. I haven’t noticed any absurd ups and downs with my weight. I’m not a nutritionist or a health nut, but I know the key is to manage your portions. It isn’t healthy or normal to feel like you can’t even breathe from eating too much. Not finishing something as delicious as that instagrammable plate you have in front of can be a little depressing. However, knowing when to stop before feeling as if you’re going to explode will keep you from gaining all the weight you’re afraid of.
Foods and dieting can be an iffy subject to some but since we’re on the topic I want to hear all of your deepest thoughts, secrets and judgements.