Dieting is overrated. Every time I try to eat better, I end up hungry and cranky and all around miserable. Sure, once the detox from junk food is over life gets a little better, but it can sometimes take weeks for that to happen.
A few months ago I gave up soda. It wasn’t nearly as hard to do this time around as it has been in years past. I’d have a little bit of coffee in the morning to get my caffeine fix in and avoid a headache, but I didn’t find myself craving Cokes when I would sit down to eat. But I gained five pounds.
What the hell, body? Do you even know how to body?
In the last week or so I’ve started drinking soda again. Basically, this whole infertility and PCOS thing has made me incredibly cranky, and instead of drinking the bottle of wine each evening that I would like to, I’m cracking open a Coke and sipping on it while eating a bit of potato chips with ranch dip.
My husband is starting a diet tomorrow, and I hope to get the soda back out of the house once we run out of what we have (I hate wasting things).
There’s days I wish that I could be naturally skinny and beautiful, and not grow hair where it doesn’t belong but grow hair on my scalp instead of having terrible patches and having to wear a wig. But then I realize that the physical challenges I’ve faced have forced me to develop a personality and rely on my brain a little more than I might have had I been born more physically appeasing to society. I understand that nobody is perfect, and I certainly never would claim to be. However, I do like my brain and suppose it’s better than a flat stomach and a smooth, hair free face.
So maybe I’ll give up soda for good, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll strictly follow a diet one day, maybe I won’t. I’ll never be an absolutely perfect person, but all I can do is be the most perfect Shannon that I can be.
I’d also settle for insurmountable wealth, but one step at a time.