Memoirs of a Fat Girl

This was the first time I ever stood up for myself. It was the first time I ever fought the good fight, all alone, and won.

The point of telling what happened then, is to tell myself that it's not so different from what's happening now. That there is such a thing as being against the ropes, and, odds stacked against me, coming back for a win.

If Me the scrawny kid can take on the biggest Goliath in school, then Me the dissatisfied woman can take on a few stupid pounds.

Alright, it's more than a few. But I have to fight this. I have to try. I have to stop making excuses and really try to make that positive change in my life. For that dress, for my happiness, for me.

No pressure. We start slow. One cup of green tea every day; 100 situps, a couple dozen pushups. Up the proteins and vegetables, down on the carbs and fruit. Besides what's in my apples, no sugar of any kind. Eight glasses of water every day, and no eating after 7pm.

It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.