“Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside”. Mark Twain
My body and mind have always functioned harmoniously when operating independently from each other. Recently, albeit not winning the war, my mind has dominated the battle as I endeavour (half-heartedly) to make the changes I need to make in order to live a healthy productive life. The problem is, I am actually not convinced that my health is the motivating factor here and fear that vanity prevails, hence the never ending war between mind and body.
I find myself staring into the now empty space on my office shelf where my beloved sweet jar once resided. I skulk through the corridor that houses the vending machine stocked with the things that melt my heart and stare longingly until someone catches me. This self-induced torment is not pleasant but with the obvious disconnect between mind and body, this is exactly what can be expected.
So, I do some introspection. Do I really want to live a life in half measures? Sure, nothing tastes as good as thin feels but really, whoever thought up that line is surely a marketing genius who lures unsuspecting and unwilling people like me to believe that being thin will dramatically transform my life. Clearly that person has never had the experience that comes from devouring a decadent slice of chocolate and orange cake or Cote d’Or Bouchees! Will Mr G suddenly salivate at the thought of seeing a thin version of me? Doubt it. Will I suddenly acquire large amounts of wealth if I were to suddenly become thin? Doubt it (unless I happen to meet a man who is knocking on death’s door and wishes to bestow his wealth onto me without the possibility of exchanging it for sexual favours – another unlikely possibility because in these scenarios, one is usually perky and supple, something – after having had two children, I will NEVER be).
So what benefit will I obtain if I become thin? Surely the best version of myself stems from how I apply my brain and not so much what I look like? Aside from the fact that life is so damn short and I could die at any moment, why would I forsake the things that I love, that give me the greatest joy and happiness, in a futile attempt to be thin so that people could look at me and say “wow, look at how amazing she looks after having had two kids”?!
Makes NO sense, especially if the reasons aren’t motivated by health issues. My theory is thus, everything in moderation. I will indulge in whatever I like and not berate myself for it. I will not suffer the hardship that comes from eating a tasteless piece of lettuce knowing full well that I could eat the pasta that I yearn for. Yes, I may always remain just a little bit overweight, but hey, I will be bloody happy.