Before I get into my Marie Osmond-esque testimonial, let me say this: I know that it's common to gain a few lbs after you settle into a romantic relationship. Trading vodka-sodas for pad thai dinners, and no longer worried about whether you'll ever have sex again, one can get a little doughy. And when you eat to feel nothing, like I do, it's a recipe for a fat-saster.* I've had weight issues for as long as I can remember, and enrolling in an Upper East Side private school where your daily calorie intake shouldn't exceed the grade on your final exam didn't help matters.
Here are a few quick facts that'll make my relationship with food a bit clearer:
- At the age of 9, while inhaling food at my grandmother's house and being told to slow down, my response was, "I'm a growing boy!" which was meant to be a joke--plus, I'd never heard "she's a growing girl" when a young female wanted seconds.
- My first week of college I was terrified to have to eat meals with my hallmates because I hadn't eaten in front of boys in years.
- My mother regularly went on 3- to 5-day crash diets and I would try to do them with her and could only last 5 minutes. I hated myself for my lack of willpower.
So, as you can imagine, when Jewboo admitted to noticing my recent weight gain, I went into a bit of a shame spiral. After all, the only thing that's made coitus acceptable is remembering that he thinks I'm thin. Now that neither of us are in a fantasy world, there's no going back!
I know this is kind of a random post. But what prompted it was this NY Times OpEd.** That, and the fact that when I was in the D a couple weeks ago, my cousin and I reminisced about how, when I was 10, I would cry when they teased me for having "a white-girl booty" (you know, flat). I wanted curves in the right places, as the OpEd discusses. That was right before I started my new school and fell into a different cultural stereotyping.
Now I want the happy medium. You know, something like
Teehee--I can't help the puns!
But it's all looking up! I finally got one of them 'smart phones' the kids have been on about, and I'm trading in the fun apps (like fried ravioli) for some good-for-you apps, like "Noom," which helps you stop being a chubzo. Yay for taking positive actions!
How are you? What's the haps? Any tips on how to keep the weight in my boobs but make sure it leaves my thighs?
* (a fat disaster, obvs).
** I mean, other than the fact that the writer's "go-to meals" sound depressing, there's a lot there that I agree with.
