I battle the bulge constantly.
Every morning since for as long as I can remember, I strip down to nothing and hop on the scale before my daily shower and after my morning constitutional.
I watch the numbers climb up. I watch the numbers climb down. It's a ritual that's woven its way into the fabric of my essence. A girl who will never not watch her weight.
Sometimes I am very vocal about my latest, greatest campaign to keep the pounds off. I did Weight Watchers with stunning success seven years ago. Six months in to the program I had shed 30 pounds and developed a three-miles-four-times-a-week running habit.
I felt wonderful, I looked awesome and everywhere I turned I was getting a compliment about how hot I looked.
It was great.
Then complacency set in. One long john donut, a trip to Cold Stone. Maybe a big night out with bottles of white wine and amazing Thai food. A candy bar out of the vending machine at work. A homemade treat brought in by a friend. Too many afternoons sitting at the bar with a pint in the hand. Little indiscretions that added up to a long list of verboten caloric intake.
Years later I find myself carrying those 30 pounds again and 10 to spare.
And so, as every curvy girl does once in a while, I had a Come To Jesus moment.
I am never going to be thin.
I am never going to be an Olympic athlete.
I am never going to stand in for Heidi Klum at the Lagerfield show.
I could be healthy, though. I could be 5'8", broad shouldered and lean. I could be a walker or a runner or a swimmer or a biker.
I could be stunning all the time.
And so six weeks ago I joined Weight Watchers. I walked back in to those meetings ready to try and commit myself to a plan that has proven its success to me once before. It's a plan that allows amazing flexibility for people to try and work a program the way that's best for them. I am still wading through the rights and wrongs and have managed to lose some weight - even with a bit of cheating here and there.
This week's meeting left me feeling powerful and ready to conquer errant calories, all because of a statement a woman made.
She was responding to another 30-something woman complaing about her cup runneth over bra size. My ears perked up considering this is something I can relate to.
The older woman said, "You've got a pretty face and amazing curves. What I wouldn't give to have that in my youth! People can always lose weight, but they can't make themselves any prettier or naturally curvy. You've already won!"
I was dumbfounded.
Her statement, though directed to another woman, echoed what others have said to me before.
And she's right.
I've got great hair and a smile worth thousands of dollars. My skin is pretty clear and my eyes are a nice shade of blue. I've got proportional curves that some men are drawn to.
I guess I can't complain, can I?