Relatioship Status: It's Complicated

This post is not what you're, most likely, thinking it's about.  After nearly 17 years with Spousetacular, that relationship has settled into a nice steady groove and is definitely not complicated.  Nope, it's not about The Boy, either.  We have our ups and downs, but for the most, he's been a pretty easy kid to raise.  Even this first year of high school is going well, thanks to rugby...for so many reasons.  No, this post is about a longer and more complex relationship than either of those two.  This post is about my relationship...with food.  Ugh. There, I wrote it.  It's out there.  I have a complicated relationship with food.  Always have.

When I was young, I wasn't fat, but I wasn't bloated-belly, third world starving, flies in the eyes, thin either.  I grew up in a large family (I was the last of 5 kids), and the parental units weren't exactly making it rain dollar bills when I was young.  We ate a lot of carbs, primarily because the Mothership could make carbs stretch the budget while keeping the kids, mainly the 3 boys full.  There was pasta, bread, peas, corn, and full-sugar Jell-o.  Tuna fish casserole -- can't really eat it today.  Not because I don't like tuna, I enjoy a good tuna salad.  But not the tuna-cream of mushroom soup-egg noodles combo.  No thanks, I'd rather have flies in my eyes.

Later, as older siblings left the house, more accurately finished college then left the house, Pater made more cash, and the budge freed up, the household diet changed.  The Mothership read Jane Brody's book on nutrition, and suddenly broccoli appeared.  But by then, I think a lot of the damage was already done.  I was already insulin resistant, bordering on overweight, and had gone through puberty early (like before 5th grade early - hmm, hormones in milk?).   When I was in late elementary school, maybe even 6th grade, the Mothership was taking my measurements to make me some clothing.  In all her motherly wisdom, she did this at the top of the stairs between the kitchen and the sunken family room of our suburban split-level.  One of my brothers, in all his most teenage brother sensitivity, heard my mother announce my waist size and said, "I know girls in high school with smaller waists than that!"  Combine that with a childhood nickname of Melon (because it not also rhymed with my name, but reminded me that I was fat in their eyes), and you get why I have a complex relationship with food.

The summer before 8th grade, the parental units took the two remaining siblings, I being one, and traveled to the East Coast.  Awesome trip, actually.  I loved The Breakers.  Loved Boston.  Loved The Cape.  Loved New York and Montreal.  Anyway, (not a digression, I swear!), we were at Filene's Basement when I found it.  The Dress.  It was a Jessica McClintock long cream colored, scoop next dress with puffy gauzy sleeves and a giant ruffle-tier at the bottom.  I immediately knew I had to have this dress.  (It was the early 1980s, give me a break.)  It was also Filene's Basement, which meant that it was deeply discounted, a fact which appealed to the Mothership.  The Mothership approved the dress as an appropriate 8th grade graduation dress.  When I tried it on, the Mothership noted that I could gain an ounce over the next year, or it would not fit. 

So, fast forward through my 8th grade year:  I did not make either the basketball team or the volleyball team (my coordination would not kick in fully until I turned 15), so I wasn't getting a massive amount of exercise (I still don't think I was fat, although my brother's used that idea as a very effective weapon against me).  Well, wouldn't you know it, about 60 days out from graduation, the Mothership hauls out The Dress.  Of course I had gained weight, and now the dress didn't fit.  So The Mothership creates a diet (this was before she read Jane Brody).  I have to lose a pound a week, or I have to eat fruit, just fruit, all fruit, until the pound drops off.

I lost the weight, not easily because I was basically an insulin resistant person carb loading, but I lost it, and I wore the dress to 8th grade graduation.  But man, that diet was a struggle.   It was also the first of many diets I would embark on, probably yearly, from that day on.  Dieting is not easy, psychologically or physically -- in fact, I'm now a diabetic.  My body has been programmed to believe that life is either feast (non-dieting time) or famine (dieting time).  I have been up and down the scale like it's a damn escalator.  Atkins, done it.  South Beach, done it.  Check the boxes beside:  SlimFast plan, Mediterranean diet, Cabbage Soup diet, 17 Day Diet, 30 Day Diet and some diet I don't remember if it had a name, but basically it was roughage and chicken.  I've also been through the whole binge and purge cycle (but it's easier if you take vitamins that make you gag, you can justify that to yourself - I'm not purging, I'm gagging on a vitamin!), laxatives, exercise (got to the point where I taught step aerobics for 20 hours a week, on top of my full time job) and begging my doctor for a lapband (proven to control blood sugar, let's try that with the insurance company). 

Where am I now?  I'm actually fat.  Not a surprise, I guess.  I don't consider myself grotesquely huge, or morbidly obese.  But I am overweight, by all standards, especially the way I feel like I should be.  And I'm not going to give excuses, because at 46, it's my fault if I'm overweight.  I have simply eaten too much of the wrong foods and not burned enough calories, irrespective of the way my body burns off calories or stores fat.  Period.  End of story.  But not end of post...

I've found a food I cannot resist.  That's it above.  Pure Protein bars.  Any flavor.  Although the chocolate and the peanut butter are my favorite.  I need to do some research on how sugar alcohols affect blood sugar, because these bars have 4g of sugar alcohols each.  But I actually really like the taste.  (Okay, yes, they have a laxative effect with excessive consumption, but with my food relationship history, a laxative effect is something I can handle).  The Boy thinks they're disgusting, and Spousetacular isn't really attracted to them either, but that just leaves more for me!  I'm wondering if I could do a Pure Protein bar diet?  I wonder if the Pure Protein people would like to sponsor me?  Maybe that's my dieting upside - I could be a pro.  Hello?  Pure Protein marketing?  I would like to lose 40 pounds using your yummy product.  Whadya say? Huh? Huh?