I did it. I bought into the latest diet fad… You’ve probably heard of it… “The 21 Day Fix”…? The promise, if you can detox your body from sugar and boxed (anything) for 21 days, you will feel like a new person! ANNNND if you drink their magic shake each day (as a meal replacement) it can’t possibly fail. Millions have been successful, besides, if it doesn’t work just return it all for a full refund. No questions asked.
I was so proud of myself -even smug, that I hadn’t gotten into the diet fad thing since Dr. Oz & Oprah put together a book with nutritionist Bob Green.
So, so proud. I looked down my nose at Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, and TOPS. I know that if there was a magic pill out there that would make me thin, I would have gotten it a long time ago. We all would. Maybe fashion and health insurance companies wouldn’t, but it’s worth noting. Alas, I digress.
Twenty One days. Three weeks. Three Mondays. The meals come with a grocery list and storage containers for portion control. Resistance is futile. Three little weeks. Work would keep my mind off of my cravings and detox. I’d feel ah-mazing. I’d have so much natural energy, it would need storage in my diminishing frame. I wouldn’t take after my father’s side of the family. My thyroid would appreciate the fresh foods and energy -probably the storage containers too. But I have to pass the chip aisle to get to the things on the special grocery list. Damn you Cheddar & Sour Cream Ruffles!
Why I bought into this plan, I will never know. I’m in my mid forties with a compromised metabolism (thank you Thyroid) I have even surgically altered my body in the hopes of becoming a “perfect” size three. I’ve taken pills, starved myself, smoked cigarettes, and regurgitated too many meals to count. I’ve tried laxatives, apple cider vinegar, odd exercise routines and single food catalyst diets. This weight issue is not new. In fact, it is so old that the constant berating within my internal dialogue is tiresome. I can’t imagine how much my friends and family hate it when I get started complaining about my weight. But in my defense, it’s always on my mind. ALWAYS!
Food addiction/issues are different from other addictions because as humans, we need food for energy and functioning. Alcoholics don’t need alcohol to live. Neither do drug, sex nor gambling addicts. Quitting “cold turkey” from food isn’t possible. There is no funky Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory piece of gum that makes you taste meals without negative effects- Violet Salt proved that.
So what do I do? I’ve been doing the Shakeology meal replacement since March 15. (I’m not a size three yet.) I don’t know that my DNA (or brain) will even allow it to happen. The gastric bypass, cheddar & sour cream Ruffles and investment into diets should tell me that being thin is (sadly) not an option.
Maybe I’m supposed to look like “this” to help teen girls be comfortable in their own imperfect bodies. I know I always respected those non-perfect looking teachers when I was in high school. For example, If I had a blemish or bad hair day and one of my teachers did too, I wasn’t as harsh on myself. Make sense? It’s like, I respected them more because they had the same problems with appearance as I did/do. My insecurities told me that if they could come to school to be seen like that, I could too.
Imagine… I would be happy, healthy and wealthy beyond measure if I simply accepted myself! Just imagine… DOH!