Food is not Love

Ironically my second post in my last blog was relating to diet. Exactly how I am feeling tonight. I have even lost weight since 2012 but I am finding myself a little body conscious again with no real motivation to do anything about it. When he first went to prison I couldn’t eat, now it is completely the opposite. To be honest I get away with eating far too much without much notice in my clothing or scales.  I am starting to feel it now though and my boy does not want to be greeted with Jabba the Hut when he is released. Must step up!

Gaining 5 and a half stone during pregnancy was not the plan. For someone so body conscious and always constantly on a diet, reaching nearly 20 stone at 38 weeks pregnant was a horrific experience. I did not recognise myself, I would get to a certain weight bracket and promise myself “no more” , “must stop eating” but it never happened and the weight creeped up and up. My job as a waitress in a American Diner did not help with my addiction to food, and thats what it was. An addiction. With a partner on nights, no real hobbies and concern of being in public for too long. I turned to food. White bread, chocolate, crisps, pizza’s, whatever I fancied I would just eat. My mind constantly either telling me to enjoy this time eating or get a grip and stop eating so much.

I do regret gaining so much, and the thought of another pregnancy petrifies me. I missed out on having pictures taken being pregnant and none at all as a new mum. I also have the horrific evidence of me still looking rather large on nights out and a fair few stretch marks to go with it.

But  I am now a changed woman, unrecogniseable even no one would call me fat on my 5ft 9 frame. I have my own body hang ups still and I have got alot better but every so often people do need to remind me how well I have done. I dyed my hair from blonde to dark about 3 years ago, and I certainly have alot more confidence. Without a doubt back when the confidence grew I would kiss someone in town at the weekend, if I hadn’t I would hear compliments from strangers. Part of the reason I used to party each weekend was the massive confidence boost getting all dressed up and having a random man call me beautiful. For me even now the dressing up, going out and feeling a million dollars is more fun than the going out itself.

Being a single mum meant my diet was no way near structured , skipping breakfasts, late lunches and toast for dinner is not unusual, but back when I was working in a health club meant I trained as much as I could. I often worked late too and I almost never cook at home. The time I got serious with my man was the only time I started cooking. Something in me made me domesticated, and funnily enough I enjoyed it. I loved how much he enjoyed eating my dinners. His heritage is Jamaican and boy do they love their food. They also very much appreciate a woman cooking for them. A new me. Since he has gone, I know longer cook at home. Not like that anyway. December is a month I won’t get to the gym, some days I wake feeling great, other days not so. I want to get back to what I was before I just met my boy. About 12lbs, I can do it. I will do it.

Starting tomorrow.


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