Ye Olde First Post

I think it’s interesting that I can pinpoint the exact moment when I became conscious of my weight.

Well, not the exact moment, per se; my memory isn’t that good. However, I do know that occurred in high school, and I also know that it was spurred by two girlfriends’ suggestion that we all go on a diet together.

“Do I need to diet?” It hadn’t really occurred to me before, but it seemed like a fun group activity. It would be a bonding experience between myself and my lady friends, not unlike going to the mall together to point out dreamy dudes.

The group diet didn’t last very long with the other two girls, but I stuck with it and ended up losing a significant amount of weight. And then I lost more weight. And more.

Whereas before I didn’t really think about my eating habits (I fondly look back upon the times when I would come home from school and naively enjoy my favorite snacks), I got to the point where I was obsessed with everything I put in my mouth. For my dieting ventures, I had chosen the Weight Watchers plan, and now I wouldn’t put something into my mouth unless I knew how many points it contained. This rule applied every day except once a week, when I would binge. Every week when I got on the scale, my pulse would race and the enjoyability of my day (and, really, my whole week) would be determined by my weight. I remember one day, when I found I had gained weight and now weighed in at a grotesque 123 pounds, sobbing as I worked out on the treadmill.

I’m not nearly as obsessed with my weight now, I would like to think. After transitioning from high school to college, I gained the Freshman Fifteen and I honestly think it was what I needed; the realization that my life would not end if I gained weight was thrust in my face, and every since I’ve been a little more realistic about the number on the scale. Still, I’ve missed out on many the social opportunity because of my fear of gaining too much weight, and I’m a strict calorie counter; in the aftermath of losing of my F.F., I regained it following a messy breakup, and I’ve been fighting off the pounds for over a year, now.

However, I recently came to the realization that whenever I’ve gained weight, it wasn’t because I went out to eat with my friends too much; rather, it was because I was so frustrated in my diet that I binged and gained back everything I had lost. I’ve been losing and regaining the same 10 pounds for the last 12 months, and I’ve been counting calories or points for the last four years—even when I was at a maintenance weight, because even when I was mainting my ideal weight (approximately 128 pounds), I was still binging once a week and consequently had to follow a diet regimen every other day of the week in order to maintain my weight.

In light of this epiphany, I’ve decided it’s time to make the transition to intuitive eating: Like my Mum says, if what you’re doing isn’t working, then it’s time to try something else. However, I am giving myself three more weeks of dieting in the hopes that I can finally lose the last three pounds and be in my 120s, again, and thus totally comfortable with abandoning my dieting lifestyle. Also, I partially gained weight on account of my taking on a stressful position on my student newspaper—which has been very rewarding and definitely worthwhile despite its effect on my emotional and physical state—and my term will be over in three weeks. Thus, I see the end of my term as a good point at which to transition into intuitive eating. I can only take so much change at a time, people. Besides, “they” do say that it is best to make a transition like this during a non-stressful time. ANYWAY, Regardless of where I am weight-wise in three weeks, though, I will no longer be dieting at the end of that period of time—it’s time to move on.

This blog will be my account of my rediscovery of intuition–of a writer’s intuition, intuitive eating and a woman’s intuition.

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