sugar is addicting did you know that

kevystel  asked:

viktor nikiforov as a sugar baby for praise and affection instead of money

1. did you mean canon

2. hooooollyyyyyyyyy shiiiiiit though dude just imagine victor nikiforov getting like one sixteenth of a teaspoonful of a taste of people being happy to be around him and like being an addict for life he doesn’t know what he did to make it happen but he’s going to make it happen again and again

2a. Does he need to support all of Hasetsu? does he need to let the triplets crawl all over him while wearing freshly sharpened skates? does he need to get Yuri ten gold medals and a Rolex? he’ll fuckin do it. he’ll fuckin do it three times over. he’ll eat natto and like it. he’ll buy mari all the cigarettes she wants. he’ll let his own dog sleep with the most beautiful boy in the world while victor himself is stuck in a california king he bought to share with the boy and his dog. victor is ready for anything. 

2b. i know we’ve kicked around this idea before but the thought that victor goes to hasetsu like IM GONNA FIND OUT WHAT THAT BOY LIKES AND I’LL BE THE BEST IT THERE EVER WAS I’VE SPENT TWENTY YEARS SKATING TEN HOURS A DAY IT WILL BE EASY I’M FINE IT’S FINE and then Yuri completely, accidentally, unmeaningly, manages to rip twenty years of fronting and building a person apart by telling him he doesn’t want Victor to be the best version of what Yuri wants - he wants Victor to be himself, just himself – still kills me dead. Imagine that complete total OUT OF FUCKIN CHEESE ERROR that Victor Nikiforov processed in like five eternal seconds 

3. “why would you think you need to change yourself to make me love you” says yuri katsuki, five years later, after victor confesses this in the dark of the night. “what. why. how could you. why would you do that to yourself”

“I didn’t think it mattered that much,” says victor, aware that he’s probably dooming himself to a week on the couch.

instead Yuri rolls over and pulls Victor tight into his arms, head cradled in to his chest, Victor’s nose pressed up against the dear night-smell of yuri’s skin. “don’t - you can be whoever you need to be. don’t change for me.”

“I won’t,” says victor, “I know. I don’t have to.”

good,” says Yuri.

i’m in love with a girl i hate (she enjoys, pointing out every bad thing about me)

this is… the drama club AU. i honestly have no idea how to summarize this without giving stuff away so you know what?? YOU should read this and send me a summary!! (you don’t have to but it could be fun who knows) ANYHOOZLE heads up this is not a one shot,, this is chapter one (6.6k words, just sayin) of what i’m gonna call the drama club AU. jake and amy are here, this is a peraltiago AU,, the squad’s all there so just roll with this!!

(title from She’s A Lady by Forever the Sickest Kids)


“This is gonna be your what- hundredth school production?” Kylie snorts over the phone. “You might actually act yourself to death if you keep doing this.”

“It’s fun, Kylie. Memorizing lines, bringing joy to an audience-”

“You mean getting standing ovations and praise, or approval of some kind?” Kylie interjects without a moment’s hesitation. “Amy, I may have moved to a new school district, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten your validation craving ass.”

Amy huffs, but it’s light-hearted and lacking any sort of malice, because Kylie is absolutely right. She yearns for approval, especially when it comes from authority figures, people she respects, etc.

“Fine. I guess I do love all of that. But even if I hated acting, I’m attached to the club at this point. I wouldn’t leave.”

“Ah, Jake Peralta must’ve finally grown on you-”

“Shut up! He’s unbearable!”

If Amy were forced to pick one aspect of theatre she found the most tiring, insufferable, vexing, and draining to experience- it would be Jake. Hands down. She wouldn’t even have to consider it. Jake Peralta is annoying, full of himself, tells stupid jokes, and oh yeah- they’re enemies, something mutually declared since elementary school.

“Lies, lies, lies,” Kylie drawls sultrily. “Surely years of playing lovers doth drawn you close?”

Amy groans into the receiver to express her disgust as dramatically as possible. “No- no no no no no! That doesn’t even make sense!”

High school brought upon a mysterious phenomenon that was an absolute curse to Amy. For the past three years, Jake and Amy have been cast as lovers in every single school production they’ve acted in. That’s right– Every. Single. One. Their director Raymond Holt insists he’s not doing it on purpose- they are apparently the only actors in the club exhibiting the right chemistry to portray lovers.

This knowledge appalls them both, but it’s a good thing playing romantic counterparts usually comes with lead roles. Everyone loves a good romance, but no one loves love more than their scriptwriter, Terry Jeffords, whom they mostly refer to as Terry. Terry makes a living playing in the NFL, writing plays for their school as a hobby. He’s an alumni student with a knack for language, and a degree in theater studies to back it up. His plays are witty and poetic, but most significantly riddled with romance and thus he always has his main characters fall in love with each other.

“Come on- it’s got to mean something if they keep casting the two of you as a couple. And don’t give me that enemy crap- enemies hardly talk to each other, and they definitely don’t play lovers on stage.”

“Hey, we have no say in the casting! And I wish he wouldn’t talk to me- we’re not friends, and we never will be.”

Kylie pauses, withholding response to ponder over this. Amy was being unnecessarily hostile regarding Jake- sure they were ‘enemies’, but Kylie would actually categorize their relationship as more of an off-and-on friendship.

Of course, they were nothing but vicious to each other before high school– Jake and Amy used to go head to head for lead characters, and considered the other their biggest competitor when it came to casting. Director Holt always made sure there was no bias in his scripts, giving rise to gender neutral roles that meant Jake and Amy were always on equal footing to fight over main characters.

That was the most stark similarity about them- their competitiveness. But their shared competitiveness was matched with passion and talent, putting the two of them among Director Holt’s favorites. Eventually, he started casting them as romantic counterparts- whether this was a ploy to force Jake and Amy to overcome their differences was something only the man himself would know.

In short, Jake and Amy’s relationship became more amicable after they started high school, although they often clash resulting in bouts of annoyance and resentment (usually caused by Jake and experienced by Amy).

Kylie’s point is– Amy doesn’t get this mad and insistent about Jake and her being enemies unless he does something to majorly piss her off, which leads her to believe…

“He made one of those ‘title of your sex tape’ jokes again, didn’t he?”

“I’m hanging up.” This means Kylie is a hundred percent right.

“Hey, calm down! They’re a little funny.”

“How could you be on his side?”

“I’m not! Maybe…” Kylie smirks. “Those 'jokes’ are his way of saying he wants to have se-”

GOODBYE, KYLIE.

She hangs up for real after that.

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Vanilla Chai Latte

Originally posted by jhope-ah

↳ Hoseok x Reader | Cafe AU 
Genre: Fluff 
Summary: Barista Hoseok suggests his personal favourite and Y/N orders it everyday until she becomes his personal favourite. Chestnut barista and cute cafe AU.

Tapping your chin, you squint at the menu board behind the counter. You had raced from your spot in the library without much concern for your belongings and had left your glasses atop your mountainous paper work.

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anonymous asked:

"You always this quiet?"

This prompt took me aaaages for some reason, I had so many half-baked ideas that never went anywhere. And then I remembered that my life is nothing without Deathly Hallows missing moments. Enjoy! 💕

***

You Always This Quiet?

The plan was changing, as of course it would - nothing about the extraction of Harry Potter from the Dursleys’ could be simple, of course - but finally the rest of the Order had headed home, leaving Ron alone with Hermione in the cozy comfort of the Burrow’s kitchen. Ron couldn’t exactly say he was growing accustomed to these moments of solitude with her, as her mere presence seemed to heighten every one of his senses, but they’d been more and more frequent over the past few months and he was certainly not complaining. He was eager to see Harry, sure, but he rather liked having her all to himself.

“Tea?” he suggested, rising from the table to fetch the kettle. Hermione just shrugged, which Ron took as a yes. The great thing about finally being of age was the freedom to use magic whenever he pleased, and within seconds he had the water boiling. “You want milk or sugar or anything in it?”

“I don’t care,” she muttered back, her eyes fixed on a burn mark in the table.

Ron paused, his hand halfway to the cupboard. Since when did Hermione not share her opinion? “Lots of sugar it is, then,” he declared brightly, fully anticipating a speech on the irreparable damage he would do to their teeth with his sugar addiction.

“Okay.”

Ron turned to look at her, watching her hair fall in curtains around her face. Hastily, he prepared two cups (and he did accidentally dump quite a bit of sugar into them in his rush) and then sat down in the chair beside her.

“You always this quiet?” he asked, knowing that the truthful answer was a resounding no. She never shut up usually, and he loved it. He could bicker and banter back and forth with her for hours and never get bored, so these monosyllabic responses were, frankly, a little scary.

“I’m just worried,” she said finally, idly stirring her tea. “About my mum and dad.”

“Oh.” Of course she’d be concerned for them. They were Muggles, they had little defense against Death Eaters. “Well, I’m sure Kingsley could put some wards up around your house, like he’s done here-”

“But they’re not there,” she said, her voice hoarse. “They’re in Australia.”

“Wait, what?”

“I modified their memories,” Hermione confessed, watching the milky liquid swirl around in her mug. “I changed their names and made it so they thought their life’s dream was to move to Australia and now they’ve gone, and - and they don’t know I exist. They don’t think they have any children.” She dropped her forehead into her palm as Ron stared, open-mouthed, and searched his brains for something, anything, to say.

“Oh, Hermione-”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” she cried, finally meeting his eyes. “It’s only a matter of time before the Death Eaters go looking for them, and - and they’re Muggles, they never asked for any of this! It’s my fault that they’re in danger, I have to protect them.”

“It’s okay,” Ron said gently. Feeling like he could - like he should, really - he placed a hand on her back. “You know they’re safe now, that’s what’s important.”

“But what if I’ve done the spell wrong? I’ve never done that kind of magic before, I studied the theory as much as I could but we all know theory isn’t the same as actual practice and-”

“Hey,” he interrupted her fretting. “I’m sure you did fine. And it’s not permanent, the spell, is it? You can get them back?”

“No, it can be undone. But that’s actually the worst of it, what if I go to find them and they never forgive me for it? If I was them, I’d be furious-”

“Look,” said Ron, “they had enough faith in you to send you to Hogwarts in the first place, didn’t they?” He’d begun rubbing a circle into her back without even realizing it. “And it was the right thing to do, because you’re brilliant. They know that… and I know that.” Hermione nodded, blinking rapidly to keep tears at bay. “So they’d have to trust you, right, that you did the right thing?”

“I suppose,” she said, not sounding convinced.

“And if we - when we win - and it’s safe for them to come back…” Ron took a moment to summon his courage. “I’ll go with you.”

“You would?” She seemed in awe.

“Yeah, of course. If you want me to, I’ll be there.”

She sniffled and mustered up a watery smile. “Thanks, Ron.”

“Yeah, anything,” he replied, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Now drink your tea,” he changed tacks, needing to break the ice, “it’s getting cold.”

She brought the mug to her lips and took a small sip, only to nearly choke and gawk at him in astonishment. “That’s like liquid candy! How much sugar did you put in here?”

“Just a little bit,” he chuckled.

“You know, when you eat sugar,” Hermione began, “it wears away at the enamel on your teeth and that’s permanent damage, and it can also cause cavities…”

Ron leaned back in his chair and sipped his own sugary tea, thoroughly enjoying his lecture.

***

you can find more four word prompts here!

The Sky's the Limit.

Lance stared up at the light blue sky, watching as wisps of clouds flitted past and swirled in circles.

Imagine flight.

He brought his knees up, holding them to his chest and he felt six years old again.

Ankle high grass brushed around him, a few trees in the distant expanse.

Lance used to like to imagine where the trails from passing planes went to. Where they had been.

Imagine flying high up there, free to go as you please. Only few can make it up there, so who would bring you down?

Lance used to have a tree house, which purpose he tended to waste. He was never actually inside it.

What the boy would do instead was climb to the top and sit, stand, reach for the sky.

He was a climber of the next tallest tree.
Any one he thought was bigger than the last he had to climb.

“Higher!” He would cry, eyes crinkled in joy as he reached new heights.

Closer to the birds, touch the clouds.

Higher.

Higher.

When would that simple childish wish to reach the sky turn into something bitter and disgusting?

Deadly.
Higher.

Lance remembered when and where and why he had his first high. The day the deadly leaf took him over and became something he’d rely on for years.

His big brother had been doing it.

Lance was always trailing in his footsteps, going and doing where he went and what he did.

When Lance was twelve years old he smoke his first blunt; given to him by his role model.

If you’ve ever heard of someone’s story of the drug trail you know it’s nothing pretty.

It’s stupid.

Lance could give you a detailed example of what it was like; he hated that he could.

When the blue eyed boy hit his first high, it wa as blissful feeling that Lance never wanted to come down from.

He was soaring higher than he’d ever reached as a kid. His gateway to a whole new world up above.

The first high is always the best.
Let him break it down for you.

When you jump, trying to jump as high as you can, you build up all this energy for this first jump.

It’ll be your highest jump, twice as high as you’ll ever be and you feel great about reaching that.

But what goes up, must come down.
It’s called a crash.

Now, with each crash you don’t start in the same place you where before you jumped.

And because of this, you will never jump as high as you did on your first jump. No matter how hard you try.

You’ll never get higher than that first time.

Lance moved on to bigger things, trying to reach that first high that he’d been trying to get since childhood.

He never would.

Soon, up in the sky became his normal.
If Lance didn’t have his high, all of those little monsters would crawl into his system and he’d feel like…

Well, shit.

There was a time when Lance reached too far for that high. He nearly did reach the sky, but not how he’d expected.

Lance was pronounced dead twice, brought back three times.

What goes up, must come down.
It lasted for years, the drugs.

But a day, walking in a random park and high out of his heels, Lance looked up.

He had just been discharged from the hospital and he looked up.

Blue eyes met a white line in the blue sky.

If Lance were dead how would he ever get to find out where those white lines went?

He’d never made it to the sky, and he never would if he had died. Someone up there gave him another chance twice.

Lance didn’t want to test it.
Third times the charm and Lance was gonna stay.

He was going to find out where those planes went, go where they go.

All of his friends helped him.
And it wasn’t something happened overnight and suddenly it was all better.

No.

It took months, years.

But he did it. It was possible.
Lance recovered from his addiction.

Lance wouldn’t sugar coat the explanation of you asked him how hard it was.

He would tell you how many hours he’d spent locked in a bathroom with Hunk sitting on top of him telling him what all this was for.

He relapsed more than once.

But you know what?
Lance made it to the sky.

Lance travelled all over.

He befriended lions, met foreign people.
Lance went on the adventure of a life time all over the world.

He went skydiving.

Lance made it. He recovered.

And now, not even the sky was his limit.

WEIGHT LOSS TIP #1: Try to train your tastebuds to get used to not having sweet things but, if you have to, go for a natural sweetener with a low glycemic impact/load like stevia -  preferably the leaf itself or, if that isn't available, go for one with the least amount of processing


Fact: The less you eat sweets and refined foods, the less you want them. Your tastes slowly adjust to enjoying other foods more. Flavors of healthier foods are enhanced and that becomes what you actually prefer. Sweet foods start to taste too rich, and pasta, bread, prepackaged food, and foods low in nutrients will start to taste bland or have a chemical taste (ever accidentally get soap in your mouth? Then you’ll know the feeling.). You’ll actually prefer the rich flavors of brown rice pasta tossed with chicken, fresh spinach, olive oil, fresh garlic, and sun dried tomatoes. Suddenly a creative salad becomes something you didn’t know you were missing and wish you tried ages ago.

ANYWAY, back to the sweeteners, I’ve tried savory oatmeal recipes, which can be good, but I prefer my oatmeal or smoothies sweet. You may be able to avoid adding sweeteners by adding plenty of fruit or bumping up the flavor with vanilla extract and cinnamon or drinking unsweetened chai or peppermint tea, but sometimes you need a little something extra. If so, go for something like stevia. The leaves themselves are the optimal choice, but if that isn’t available, go for stevia with the least amount of processing that you can get your hands on. While foods like honey and agave nectar may be good and even healthy to an extent, you may want to avoid these and other sweeteners if you’re trying to lose weight. Sugar of any variety, artificial sweeteners, alcohol, white bread, anything with white flour like pasta and cake, and even white rice puts a glycemic load on the body. Here’s what a glycemic load (a glycemic impact that isn’t balanced with foods lower on the index) can do:

- cause a blood sugar spike…

- which the body overcompensates for…

- leading to a slump later

- automatically increases appetite 

- stimulates hormone levels in the brain which cause cravings. In turn, the next time around the brain craves even more to get the same effect and so on, creating something resembling an addiction. Did you know you can go through withdrawal symptoms when you cut sugar from your diet? It just leads to needing more sugar.

- the fat produced from sugar and simple carbohydrates tends to collect in the abdominal region more than anywhere else in the body

ARTIFICIAL SWEETENERS SUCH AS ASPARTAME HAVE THAT SAME EFFECT, so sugar-free candy, cakes, or diet soda are equally as bad if not more so. 

I have personally found that I don’t have any of that with low glycemic load natural sweeteners like stevia. In fact, my body feels satisfied that it got what it wanted, so I’m not constantly raiding the fridge or store, looking for things to satisfy my craving for something sweet and constantly eating until I finally just give in anyway or binge until I can’t eat any more yet still haven’t attained satisfaction.

* A couple of disclaimers:

- natural sweeteners such as stevia and erythritol can have side effects, so use in moderation 

- using sweeteners of any kind will inhibit efforts to train your taste buds to enjoy a greater variety of flavorful, unsweetened foods

Unless you’re eliminating sugar from your diet because of health problems such as diabetes and cancer, completely cutting out sugar may not be reasonable, possible, or even desirable. Based on the suggestions, you have to find what works for you.

anonymous asked:

I keep binge eating thousands of calories every day and i have loads of creative ideas and feel kind of manic. I need to stop bingeing but im addicted to the high it gives me, and how that high makes my brain whirl and allows me to create. I know i need to quit sugar, throw away all of my poems, songs, drawings etc that I have written and do my damn homework but i feel like my brain has exploded and I just want to be creative and eat constantly. Please rely quickly!

The quick reply did NOT happen. I am SO sorry about that.

I know what you’re talking about; I have this problem sometimes too. I don’t think you need to throw away all of the things you’ve created, but you’re right that you need to cut back on the sugar and start working on your homework. Have you tried using the creativity as a reward for doing your homework?

Also, have you talked to a doctor about how you’re feeling? It’s possible that you actually are manic and should be evaluated for bipolar disorder.

-J

Hems & Hols [G]

Title: Hems & Hols
Rating: G
Word count: ~1,500
A/N: In response to @corpselover1426’s adorable meta:
“…imagine Albus secretly asking Molly to make the sleeves a bit longer when she knits Scorpius’s Christmas sweaters and Scorpius opening them in delight Christmas morning and Albus blushing and smiling in satisfaction when he sees him pull the sleeves all the way down over his hands.”

“You’re sure, dear?”

“Yes, Nana,” Albus Potter reiterated, shifting uncomfortably on the common room’s stone hearth.  “Just a tad longer on the sleeves. He’s not one to ask for favors, but I know he’d appreciate it.”  

“Goodness knows I’m hardly ‘hip’ these days, but I simply don’t understand the appeal of sleeves flapping about in the wind. Surely your beau’s hit the end of his growth spurt? He’s as tall as a reed, and twice as thin.”  

Albus sighed good-naturedly. If he took the time to explain each and every Scorpius Malfoy idiosyncrasy, they would be here all night. He settled on an abridged version of events.

“You’ve seen Scorpius, Grandma, he’s hardly what you could consider on-trend. Think of it more of a quirk. He likes pulling the jumper over his hands. Saves him the trouble of mittens, actually.”

“Mittens” Molly Weasley’s head in the Floo fire mused. “I suppose he could do with a pair of those too, couldn’t he?”

“Nana, no. You’ve already knit him a trunk-full. He has a pair for every day of the week. I think he’s set for life on mittens. He could really do with those sleeves though…”

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oh how the tables have turned

-/-

aka the one where Emma Swan is on the opposite end of the ‘fake marriage’ au spectrum. [part one] [part two] [ao3]

-/-

She doesn’t have the right to feel betrayed – God, she doesn’t, especially after what she’s done to them, but the accusing word itches to fall from her mouth.

There’s two parts of her brain processing the news – the rational and the irrational. The rational tells her that at least they told her, rather than keeping it to themselves, keeping her completely out of the loop and keeping up the charade – that they didn’t quite have a reason to trust her with the information at first, not after being MIA for so long. The rational side seems to also be her inner optimist.

But the words reach the irrational side first, the side that warns off the alarm bells, the side that screams liars, liars, liars.

“I want to talk to Ruby.”

Killian opens his mouth to argue, but it snaps back shut when Ruby nods and Emma glares.

“Why?” she asks when it’s just the two of them. The single word carries a lot, a loaded question, but Ruby has always been a sharp shooter anyway.

“Because he’s my best friend.”

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324.

This is what I weighed on July 6th, 2016 and at the end of the day, it’s just a number. I may have weighed more or less at other times and it’s an important thing I learned on that day but not the most important thing I learned. 

I learned that I was gluten intolerant, something I had suspected for a while but had ignored as I ate more grains than I knew what to do with.

I learned that I was in the very early stages of insulin resistance or as the kids call it, pre-pre-diabetes. Essentially, an early reservation for the diabetes train.

I learned that I had some symptoms of IBS and that my dietary choices were making perforations in my GI tract which caused nutrients to leak out into my body and cause inflammation. This especially made me sit up because the inflammation in my body had me in so much pain in the past months.

It was a really weird conversation and I’m not sure it entirely sunk in at that moment. I talked to my dietitian about setting up My Fitness Pal, about the things I should be avoiding, setting up our next few appointments, about how I should be thinking about what I ate on a normal day. I left there and directly walked to 7-11 on the way to subway and got a Slurpee. I sat on the train drinking it and thinking about everything I had eaten that day and remembered that not two hours before I had had an everything bagel with cream cheese and a bottle of Coke on the way to this appointment. I looked at the Slurpee in my hand and had a moment of realization that this is probably why I felt like shit every day.

The next few days, I ate pretty much the same way I had been eating but I began tracking in My Fitness Pal what I was actually eating and realized that I was a) eating a lot more than I should be and more importantly b) eating a lot more shit than I should be. Or than I thought I had.

I am no stranger to a diet. I grew up the daughter of a woman who struggled with her weight all her life and who had tried every diet, pill, shake, trick, and gimmick on the market only to see her weight yo yo and then balloon. My mom had gastric bypass surgery when I was 13 and I remember her telling me beforehand it was to save her life and how she would feel better after; this was hard to believe watching her throw up regularly if she ate more than a golf ball size amount of food. She lost weight and then gained some more and then lost some more. It didn’t really seem like gastric bypass did anything other than place a physical limit on the exact same habits and the same self hatred she always had. If you were a woman in my family, you hated your body and you hid any struggle you may have with it. That was that.

Since I quit doing 30 hours of ballet a week at age 14, I filled out in ways I didn’t appreciate. Big thighs, big hips, the same double chin my dad has. I kept it in check in high school for the most part but inside, I felt like dying. I wanted more than anything to be skinny. I went away to college and immediately lost some weight my first semester because I was too anxious to eat in the common space in my dorm only to gain that weight back and more when I discovered that being on your own meant that you could eat what you wanted whenever you wanted. I was in relationships where I was loved no matter what my body looked like but I felt like shit about myself.

To say I had issues about my body and about food is an understatement. I remember the years where I would never take a photo of myself below the neck for fear of friends from high school or blog readers to know I was fat (even when I wasn’t that fat! not that it even really fucking matters!). I deactivated my facebook after becoming exhausted at untagging photos of my full body. I bought so many beauty products to focus on my face and try to draw attention that I was so uncomfortable in my body. I would feel my anxiety flare up the moment a fellow fat friend referred to us in the same group. I hated myself to a point where looking back, I’m not sure how I made it out alive. That sounds so dramatic but I truly, truly existed feeling so ashamed of my physical form.

I’m not sure what happened next or in what order. I know that I went to therapy and did a lot of work on heavy stuff in my life. I know that I fell in love with a man who made me feel worthy of being loved no matter what. I know that I began to live in the moment more. I know that I began to be proud of the things my body was and what it could do. I know that I started to share photos of myself from head to toe because I liked my outfit or my new tattoo or whatever. I know that I started to feel like my body was mine to do what I wanted with and not something to be ashamed of. I know that I watched my mother’s body riddled with cancer and thinner than I had ever seen it leave this earth. I know that I learned that our bodies are so much more than what they look like and more what they can do and how they can feel. I know that I want a longer life than my mom had and I know I want a happier one.

So I did my research. I figured out the things I couldn’t eat and what I could. I didn’t want to restrict anything except the things that would actively hurt my body and cause it to function poorly. It has been six weeks now and there has been trial and error. Like, I learned why you should eat more protein because it really does keep you full! I learned that sugar is very addictive and that’s not just something people say. I learned that you feel so much more full when you eat real whole foods. I learned that you can still go out to eat with friends as long as you look out for what you are eating. I learned that you can also go out to eat with your friends and eat a treat now and then too. I learned that it’s not really about will power at all and more about making peace with yourself. I learned that it’s not about numbers or calories or anything other than caring for yourself inside and out.

I have been lucky in the past six weeks. I am so glad that I have lost 20.2 pounds and 18 of those have been fat. I am so glad I have found a fitness studio where I can do both yoga and strength training in small groups with supportive people. I am so glad that putting good things in my body has not only made me feel better physically but emotionally. I am so glad that my dietitian focuses not on meal plans but on the reasons why I have overeaten in the past and what I can do to become whole emotionally and physically. I am so glad to feel better.

So essentially, this is a place where I will write about this stuff. Not just updates on weight and food and fitness but about the whole journey, from way back when I was a thin kid who thought it was normal to eat cake frosting in the pantry so no one would see you to now with a much larger body that I am learning how to move and nourish and use to live my life fully. I have a goal weight up there but I’m not sure what it will end up being to be honest; it could be lower or higher. I’m trying to really be present and just listen to what my body needs and where it’s going. I am trying to be well to myself and to others. I am excited for where this journey is going even if I am not sure where the hell that is.

And remember: that number up there is just a mile marker just like all the other ones in your life. It’s where you are at the moment and that’s ok; it doesn’t mean anything other than what you need it to.