Honestly speaking ladies!

I, LIKE many women out there (whether they admit it or not) have had my ups and downs with weight. Seriously! You wake up one day, take a look in the mirror and you just want to scream.

You ask: “Where did all the dimples and handles from? And how about the flabby tummy? And where did my waist go?”  Those episodes of eating a bit too much, a drink here and there and pigging out in front of the television  completely disappear from your mind. You forget about that chocolate you had and that ‘sweets’ habit that you maintain every day. Yes Ladies, we just forget all about that. We become clueless as to where all the horrible weight came from. Or do we?

At this moment you usually run to the scale. You jump on it and it swooshes past ‘normal’, heading for the big number. You quickly get off the scale. Think for a moment and instantly start peeling every piece of clothing on you. And I mean everything, just to make sure that you get a more “accurate” reading. You get back on that scale and just like before, it is headed for those ‘dreaded big numbers’ and you know for sure things are not good.

You rush to your wardrobe, go through it, looking for that particular pair of jeans, skirt or dress that you use to measure your weight gain. You know the scale plays stupid tricks on you. Aha, there it is, that white pair of jeans that always never lets you down. Quickly you put one leg in and then the other, with a smile on your face, the jeans start moving up and the horror! That smile quickly turns into a grimace and the jeans just stop moving, right around your thighs and bottom. You hop over to a mirror, trying to figure out what is wrong, as if you don’t already know. You stand there and you begin to wiggle, gently at first, nice and smooth and soon, you are wiggling vigorously, all the time wondering why this happening.

With no luck on the jeans, you walk over to the bed and just slump on it.

For a flickering moment you don’t know what to do. Then as quickly as you slumped, you get up, you have thought of a plan. You call one of your friends, just to ask her what size she is wearing , ‘cause you have a few clothes you can’t fit , with all the weight you have been ‘losing’, but what you really want to know is what size she is now, hoping that she is maybe a size or two bigger than you.

Just like you were hoping, she is just a size bigger than you and inside you celebrate. You do your little celebration dance. You tell her that you will get the clothes together for her. But you know there are no clothes to give.

You get off the phone, sit down and start planning out your meal and exercise plan and how long you are going to stick to it to lose the extra weight.

You look for your sneakers, your track suit and you go for a walk.

You are so determined to lose the entire unwanted cushion and hope that it will slowly melt off. This is war! You start to watch what you eat. You drink loads of water. You continue to exercise and just like magic, the weight starts to shed off.

Three months later, you look in the mirror and love what you see.

Despite there being a few imperfections it is still good. You have your waist back and that’s cause for celebration.

You walk to the bathroom, get on the scale and it is not making a mad dash toward the big numbers. Just to double check, as always, you go for that special verification tool, your white jeans that never let you down. One leg, then the other and up, up they go, all the way and you close the zipper.

This is it, what you worked so hard for. You are back in business. You grab your phone, call your friend and see if she would like to come over to your house and get something to eat. You tell her to bring two other of your girlfriends because you know you have to show off.

They all make it to your place and commend on how great you look. You try to be modest about it but you know you look good. You get the food ready, something to drink and oh, you have the best dessert ever, chocolate cake and ice-cream. No warning bells are going off in your head ‘cause you are too busy celebrating.

One morning, months after the celebration, you wake up; take a look in the mirror and you just want to scream. Where did all this come from? The dimples, the handles, how could this be real?

And so the cycle continues. The war, our fight with weight.

I’m right there with you my sisters. Right in the thick of it and maybe one day sooner than later, it will end.