The First Step: Admitting You Have a Problem.

Diet.

I hate that word.  It always brings me back to my sophomore year of high school.  I was a plump teenager although my deep denial led to some very unfortunate wardrobe choices in those formative years.  I would definitely squeeze my body into unforgiving jeans and barely there t-shirts that clung to me like stretched out cling wrap, likely to burst at an over zealous exhale. 

I was in size denial.  I probably would have remained that way for years had I not had a crush on a cute senior in the middle of the school year. (This gets way more humiliating after the jump.)

 I wrote a note to the good looking and popular senior whom I shall call Rich for this story.  In the note I admitted to having a crush on Rich and asked him to the upcoming Valentine's Day Dance.  Of course I was too shy to deliver this note in person, so I had an accomplice bring the note to him before first period.  The reply was swift and brutal.  Standing outside my homeroom after my first class, my friend caught up with me and quickly relayed his answer.  "Um, he said Ew, oh my god! Tellhertogetsomeclothesthatfither."  She spit it out so fast I made her repeat herself.  She wouldn't look me in the eye.

"Tell her to get some clothes that fit her."  She then backed away sheepishly.  "Um... Sorry!" 

To my utter chagrin, I later learned that Rich's reaction to my letter was witnessed by a hallway full of seniors who pointed and laughed at me for almost a week after the embarrassing incident.  I was angry, yes, but I have always been a pragmatist.  Rich was a jerk, but he was also correct.  How had I gotten so off track with my body?

In the next few years I experimented with a number of diet ideas.  There was the atkins diet, the grapefruit diet, the lose ten pounds in three days diet, the take a ton of diet pills and drink coffee diet and the only one that was truly successful, the almost no fat diet.  In the spring of my Junior year I managed to shave nearly forty pounds from my five foot, two inch frame, and I was thrilled with the results.  I had finally found a diet that would prevent me from ever needing to worry about adding fat to my frame.  It was a highly restrictive no fat diet that shaved a recommended fifty grams of fat per day down to ten, fifteen grams of fat at most.  I worked so well it was almost like magic.  I lost the first twenty-five pounds in one month and the weight continued to fall off.  But it was a deal with the devil, for without fat I lost the flavors of food that I had always loved.

After my initial weight loss success, of course I gained most of it back within six months.  After starving myself into a beautiful prom dress and enjoying the first rays of summer sun on a slender version of my old self the hunger caught up with me.  I don't think I've ever eaten so much food in all my life.  It didn't hurt that I was dining out all the time, eating lobster drenched in melted garlic butter and greasy french fries from Portland that were fried in duck fat.  There were also the numerous visits to the local fudge shop and boxes of salt water taffy that mysteriously disappeared over last six months of the year.  By the holidays I was at least forty pounds heavier again and depression began to sink in.  There were cookies, mashed potatoes, baked ham, sausage stuffing, and lots of holiday sides drowned in cream sauces or butter.  I began to feel weighed down by my own gluttony and something had to change.

That Spring I became a vegan.  I'm not sure how it happened exactly, I was dating a vegetarian who was living a much healthier lifestyle that I was and his diet gave me the inspiration to cut all animal products from my daily intake.  This closed the door on foods like milk, cheese, honey (from bees).  Pastries were out, as well as any egg products.  This exclusive diet forced me to find new foods to obtain nutrition and surprisingly flavor as well.  I discovered avocados, nuts, peppers, greens, tofu and soy.  This time the weight came off more gradually and my body actually began to feel better.  I wasn't getting sick as often.  My taste buds adjusted to the unprocessed diet and I actually began to enjoy what I was eating.  By the time I graduated I had lost all of the weight again and I looked healthy at my graduation. I would not slip in my strict diet until I began my first serious restaurant job as a busser in a fine dining Italian restaurant. Anyone who could resist a perfectly prepared veal saltimbocca with creamy garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus sauteed in a butter, garlic and parmesan sauce is a true saint.

This is when I realized I had a problem on my hands.  I could either eat and have the foods I love and carry an extra forty pounds around my middle, or make the same pledge my grandmother made to herself sixty years ago and forgo my favorite foods until I am old and don't care about my figure anymore.  Now I am determined to find a way to eat one hundred percent healthy foods that taste like gourmet.  I know I can have both!