As I start into week 4, I feel myself getting a little too …
comfortable.
I am still weighing/measuring and logging, but I find myself estimating
in advance, then nodding when my guess is confirmed by the actual
weight/measurement. Smug, like I know it all.
I know this feeling.
Complacency/comfortableness in the past has made me eschew
actual measuring for my personal “guesstimating” of what I was eating. And, in the past, while those measurements
started out more or less accurate, they expanded over time. A tad more here, a dollop more there, a taste
before I actually measured, and then I was back to eating whatever, whenever.
Yeah, *my* version of an eating plan sucks.
Cheating myself on an eating plan has never been a problem
for me.
Keeping myself on an eating plan has been a HUGE problem for
me.
I am thinking that I am going to buy a second set of
measuring cups/spoons for my purse. So,
when I hit that salad bar/hot bar/restaurant? I can
put whatever I want on my plate, but I am going to measure and account for what
actually goes in my body. I am worth this effort. A couple of weird glances and comments when I weigh/measure cannot *possibly* be worse than the nearly 50 years of fat shaming I have already endured.
To win this war, I am going to have to continue to fight -- one
forkful and measuring spoon at a time.
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