I began this blog on the advice of my husband who has sat through countless movies listening to Nerds rattling in boxes in my lap next to him, accompanied me to boot camp sessions when the guilt set in, answered the question "How do I look?" I million times, and is constantly supportive during my ups and downs (and yes, I'm talking about pounds). He witnesses how happy I am when making (and eating) a delicious meal. He dries my tears when the next day I step on the scale and have gained a pound (again). He has witnessed this roller-coaster for four years - four years of 28. The truth is...there are so many thoughts he doesn't even hear me admit out loud. Ones that if anyone else ever said to me, he would kick their butt. Yet I say these hurtful things to myself all day long.
It was only when I wiped my tears and started looking up from my bowl of ice cream that I noticed Scott stopped eating when he was full, ate only when he was hungry, puffed up his chest when he looked at himself in the mirror, smirked a little, and went on with his day. That's when I realized how different the way we approached food, health, fitness, and body image was.
That's when I realized that what I have always thought would fix me -losing weight - is not it at all. I need to find some balance and within that find peace. I need to embrace the fact that I love food - I am a sweet tooth. And I also need to find the balance point where that food doesn't destroy my sense of self.
So thus begins the blog.
