I have been fighting the battle of the bulge for as long as I can remember. I was a carefree chubby toddler, an oblivious, rotund preteen and by the time I had gotten my bearings I was officially deemed fat.
Some people are blessed with the skinny gene. I unfortunately am not one of them . My gene pool handed me down among other things I resent, a pear shape 🍐 which resulted in the lower gargantuan half of my body to forever be in an awkward contrast with my petite upper half. Plus a metabolism that would finish in last place even in a snail race🐌.😒
As a result of this, I have been engaged in a lifelong battle with those pesky pounds which I have beaten down to a handful of five. This was several lifetimes ago, 😖 and yet “The loose five pounds”resolution somehow makes it to the top of my list at the start of every new year 😠.
Several failed attempts that ranged from: Dieting which transformed me into a ravenous , wild eyed beast intent on giving the third degree to anyone who dared to eat in my presence.👿
To yoga, where after several maddening chants of “find your inner peace”the only thing I ended up finding was my inner aggression.😡
And lastly to strength training 💪🏼🏋🏻which resulted in me resembling a five foot michelin man with caramel highlights.
Frustrated and defeated , I finally resigned to the fact that there was nothing I could do to part company with the fat cells seemingly super glued to my lower half.😪
The only other options available to me were a)surgery which I couldn’t afford 💸, or b) praying for a miracle 🙏🏼 which according to Cindrella’s fairy god mother “take a little time✨”.
Leaving me with no choice but to indeed wait it out. All alone, depressed, hungry… Which reminds me it’s almost dinner time Nutella sandwich anybody? 😋