I know how to eat healthily. I could reel off how anyone can have a healthy diet. I know balance is key, fat isn’t that bad, vegetables are God’s, grains are good for you, processed out/ home made in.

And I’m good at eating healthy. I’m just bloody good at eating so so badly too.

I’m not horrifically overweight. I’m not obese, I’ve been told I ‘carry’ my weight well. But I’m unhappy, and I’m not in control. And I’m scared I’ll lose it completely and spiral into obesity and the consequences of that. I don’t care for this body positivity crap; I work for the NHS, I know obesity is linked with cancer, heart problems joint problems etc. Doctors don’t advise healthy BMIs because they’re bullies, they do it to save lives (and the NHS precious money).

So, I’m starting this blog, I’m yelling into the void in a hope of controlling my eating, having accountability for what goes in my mouth, and hopefully lose that sacred 15lbs I’ve been trying to get rid of for about 10 years.

Make a plan, stick to it, lose the lbs, get happy. This isn’t a journey of self discovery, body positivity bullshit. I’m literally hear to stop myself stuffing my face.

Diet: Lessen carbs, unless exercise days. Stick to the good carbs obvs. Intermittent fast at least 16 hrs a day. Black coffee and green tea during fast. 2 to 3 meals a day, snacks of nuts, or cheese for protein in middle of day.

Exercise: Run 3K 2 times a week, Run 5K on Saturday. Gym at least twice a week. Yoga on Tuesday.

Blog: Check in in the evening, weigh everyday, check in after every meal. Get the accountability going!

I’d like to think today was a my turning point.

I woke up, I was going to fast until midday (intermittency fasting, tick in that diet box), have a frittata (protein, no carbs, diet box tick), go to the gym (exercise box, tick), salad for dinner, begin fast at 8pm. I KNEW because I was off work, the challenge to boredom eat would be there, I knew I’d try and persuade myself to go to the shop to buy sandwiches and chocolate for lunch, I knew the traps and habits were there. Yet I still did it. WTF. I was literally saying in my head “I’m so glad I don’t smoke, coz I could never quit”. I bought my lunch (sushi, carbs), I bought TWO bags of chocolate (because this fat bitch don’t do halves), and crisps. Diet out the window. Square one, hello again. Then husband came home, so secret eating ceased, gym was skipped, salad was made and eater, fast resumed at 8pm.

I don’t have an unhealthy relationship with food. I don’t demonise carbs, I know I need to strike a healthy balance. We meal plan, we factor in fruit and veg. It’s literally like I can’t resist the ‘bad’ stuff, and when I break, I break HARD. One small cheeky chocolate bar isn’t enough, its a chocolate bar, a sharing bag of galaxy and a milkshake, then hide the evidence in the bin so husband doesn’t find it. I’m ashamed when I break, I consider making myself throw up, but can’t bring myself to do it and go down that road. I feel shit afterwards, what’s the point?

I’ve lost weight before, and that’s why I want to do it. It’s not for anyone else, its literally to make myself feel good, healthy, strong. I’ve got obesity in the family, and watching family members joints give out due to weight is fucking terrifying. I want my clothes to fit me better. I want to feel like my clothes look good. I’m not looking for thin and toned, I’m just looking for less. And control.