So you remember when you were miserable, single & skinny? Good times. But then you meet someone who lights up your life and makes you feel alive inside. It's a little thing called love. And I love it, I love being in it, having it swish around me and fill me up with its nuss. However... I don't like the weighty side. Why should being the happiest also be the heaviest time of your life.
They say it's called contentment and being happy, but why should being happy mean that you end up gaining pounds in weight and feeling like a lump. An unattractive lump. When you come to think about it, you met your guy when you were skinny so what will he think when you morph into heffalumpitis. And he can't understand why you are grumpy and touchy about what you're wearing because he still loves you just the same.
The food love relationship is horrible - the takeaways, the chocolate, the goodies, the lets treat ourselves to more junk never ending circle of eating. Salad is never the way forward for me and it never will be - I refuse to curtail living for the sake of a diet but there must be balance. Balance is all important in life. At the moment there is definitely no balance, it could in fact be said there is drowning and sinking and being crushed under the weight of love.
I wish we didn't have the relationship we do with food - I wish we could just go fill our tanks up at the petrol station just like our vehicles instead of being brought up to finish our plates, treating ourselves to elevenses and afternoon tea, cakes at 3, sweeties at the cinema, dinner - lunch - breakfast out, fast food, quick food, beige food. The food of love is beige - man that is depressing. At least the food of love isn't salad.