I am ALREADY a failure.

I am already a statistic.

I have already regained some of the weight I’ve lost, and I expect will gain more over my lifetime.

95 percent of people who lose weight regain it — and sometimes more — within a few months or years.


But I call bullshit.

I didn’t fail anything.

The diet failed me.

Despite the fact that I’ve watched women diet and regain weight a million times over my lifetime, both in my own circle of friends but in the media in general, I honestly didn’t realise that diets don’t work.

And I can hear you, it kinda did work for me, I am still considerably ‘lighter’ than I was previously. BUT, I also have a serious mental health condition that was caused by what I’ve put my self through in order to look like this.

When you start dieting, you start thinking about what you SHOULD eat, and not what you want or need to eat. You start attributing worth to your food, rather than focusing on nourishing your body AND your mind. (See blog post for a discussion on the moral values we place on food).

Before long, you start to feel out of control. You’ve stopped listening to your body, you’ve stopped working WITH food and started managing every meal by how many calories it contains, how much fat or protein you have left to eat or if is on your list of approved foods.

But you can only feel out of control when you’ve been desperately trying to control something in the first place. What might it feel like to just let go? Learn to listen? Do you best to NOT judge your food, or your self?

If someone had told me at the start of this year that I would have a packet of chocolate digestive biscuits in the kitchen, I would have laughed at you. Chocolate digestives with a proper cup of tea – that was my nemesis – my kryptonite. When I ‘fell off the wagon’, it would almost always be directly into a packet of biscuits. Or at least that’s how it would start. Then it would just be a free fall into anything I could get my hands on.

I am one of millions of women who would say things like ‘oh I just can’t have those in the house’, ‘once I’ve started I just can’t stop’, ‘I couldn’t just have one’! .. the prospect of just eating whatever I wanted was truly terrifying, laughable even.

But letting go, giving my self unconditional permission to eat WHATEVERIWANT was the most powerful, radical, political, fingers up to the oppressive diet culture we are surrounded by.

Now, I truly eat what I want. And despite popular belief, I CAN be left around a packet of biscuits. Because when I want one, I have one. In fact, if I want 3 or 4 I have them too. I’ve stopped judging my self, stopped berating my choices, punishing my body for its cravings and started allowing my self some fucking compassion.

My body craves chocolate digestives just as often as it craves broccoli. It craves fish as often as it craves a spoonful of peanut butter. I no longer attach any moral judgements to those cravings and have learned not only to allow the things I desire, but also when to stop, when to wait to see if the craving passes, when to put things away and when to go back and finish the packet. True trust. True freedom. A true FUCK YOU to all the people who tried to sell me a lifestyle that is painful, restrictive, damaging and unsafe.

Just eat the fucking biscuits.


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