For the better part of my adult life, I was a Monday through Thursday calorie-counter. Once Friday hit, I’d loosen my belt juuuust a little…and then a little more, and then…by Sunday night, I’d find myself sitting on my couch in baggy sweats staring at the bottom of yet another empty pint of ice cream declaring, “I’m going to be good on Monday!” For me, this cycle was normal. In fact, at the time I assumed that everyone ate their body weight in junk food on Sunday night!
When I diagnosed myself as an emotional eater last year, a sense of self-awareness came over me. I have always prided myself as being an optimistic, resilient person, but I realized that when it came to food, I was quite resentful and angry. Why can’t I just eat a freakin’ cupcake and not have to think about it?! How can she polish off a burger and fries and stay so skinny? (Sound familiar?) Simply put, I was pissed off that making consistently healthy choices always seemed like such a chore.
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