Reclaiming My Mind

The first thing I do is disassemble my food processor.  Though it's not as cumbersome as the one Lorenzo once used, it does need to be taken apart in order to fit more easily beside the juicer and Yonanas machine in the cabinet under the microwave.

Next, I go down to Lorenzo's fridge in the basement and pull out my favorite yogurt, (strawberry flavored Almond Dream) and my favorite beer (Heineken Light) and bring them back upstairs to be stored in the kitchen fridge.

And last but not least I tackle the pantry.  I use a yet-to-be-opened lemon zester to move cereal, croutons and a brand new bottle of mirin from the highest shelf of the pantry to the lowest.

These items were once on my "bad foods" list.  After losing Lorenzo and gaining a shitload of weight, I've spent the past year hopping from one fad diet to the next.   The food processor was for the weeks I spent on the Shred diet, sucking down green smoothie after green smoothie and picking spinach out of my teeth for days on end.

The expensive ass juicer I bought from Amazon was for the Crazy Sexy Diet, a vegan plan that mandates buying pounds of fresh produce each week and blending them into green juices (and before you even ask, yes, they are exactly as unappetizing as they sound).

But in learning to sit with my feelings as opposed to running from them, I've figured something out: I'm not fat because I didn't know potato chips have more calories than kale, I'm fat because I was depressed as fuck.  I lost the love of my life.  I sat on my couch for a year and cried.  I drank and ate my way through the pain because I didn't know what else to do with it.  And that's okay.  I'm human.  I did the best I could with the knowledge I had at the time.

But as much time as it took me to put on this weight, it'll take AT LEAST as long for me to lose it.  And that's okay too.

And now that I think of it, neither Shred nor the Crazy Sexy Diet were such bad plans, they were just bad plans for me.

So.. no more living by anyone else's rules no matter how authoritative and knowledgable that person may be.

No more drinking a gallon of water a day and having to pee every 5 minutes because that's what Skinny Heffa magazine says I should do.

No more eating foods I hate because Dr. Phil or Dr. Oz or even Dr. Seuss says that this is the fastest way to lose weight.

And no more depriving myself of foods that I love because a well meaning, but often overbearing boyfriend disagrees with my choices.

No more living according to anyone else's rules except my own.

I will never, ever be perfect.

I will never be Beyonce, or Halle Berry, or Tyra Banks.

But I will be in much better shape than I currently am.

I will be a good role model for my daughter, and the healthiest version of Khadija that I can be.

And for now, that's good enough for me.