I stopped dieting a long time ago.
When I gained 50 pounds in my junior and senior years of college, and slowly took it off in the couple of years afterward, I simply started choosing food more wisely, and that’s also when I picked up running again. I haven’t felt like I’m on a diet because I enjoy eating well.
Although I stopped dieting a long time ago, I realized today that I’ve been putting myself through another kind of hell over the years. The pursuit of the perfect weight.
I hit my perfect weight for one single season of my adult life. It was in the spring semester of my sophomore year of college. I was 19 years old, 5’6” and 127 pounds.
And I stopped getting my period.
That alone should be an indication to me that my “perfect weight” is anything but perfect for me. In reality, that particular weight is utterly wrong for me. Completely unnatural. My body told me so in a clearly identifiable way.
And yet my mind, which is just as susceptible to ads of Victoria Secret models as the next woman, is stuck on 127. Or at least 129.
Next post: My wedding weight and Hell, Part 2.
