Last thursday was my parents wedding anniversary. To celebrate we had a BBQ and some friends over, nothing to big just our garden, quite a lot of beer, large bits of tuna and burnt burgers.
My mum’s friends, has been on slimming world for a while and is shedding weight, not that she NEEDS to, although I can understand why anyone might want to improve on there figure. My mum and her friend have the same name, so in my blog universe lets say their shared name is ‘Lucille’ and my mum’s friend is ‘Lucille Two’. My mum and Lucile Two start to chat about how weight loss works, and my mum about how hard she can find it, and about how hungry she is. In my head this is just going on and on, while I’m being offered a veggie sausage to go with my tuna steak.
Now, being offered more food, while talking about weight loss, while personally feeling like a fat ass, it puts you off. At a point where I was feeling I couldn’t put up with it anymore, Mum said ‘I want to write out a weekly diet plan and stick to it’. ‘I’ll do it with you’ I piped up with more enthusiasm than I felt. She seemed pleased, and said that would really help her stick to it, and then started talking about something else. Success.
Now I actually have to do it, when I only really said I would so I could eat my meal without thinking about if I should be trying to get it off my body and how I would do that. I get to eat ‘as much’ fish and rice as I like …. which is pretty much what I eat. I can make myself sushi for lunch and in ‘slimming world’ thats totally cool. So maybe I will join the slimming world population by losing a few pounds or maybe I will just make my mum happy for a week.
Apparently for our ‘not diet, just eating well’ as my mum would put it, I need to make some chickpea cakes, which I have never made before and am looking forward to the disaster that may occur.
I’m not really happy with monitoring what I eat though, I’ve been obsessed with my weight, weighing myself every day, thinking I was huge when I was a size 10. And the worst thing about that situation was no one seemed to think I had a problem. If I said I felt fat to my family, they just encouraged me to loose a few pounds if that would make me happy. I can’t weigh myself nowadays, I haven’t for about 4 years, because I know I will become wrapped up with watching the numbers go down. It would be good for me, I need it, but I don’t want to get that way by entering a mentality of obsession.