So here I am. The past 5 weeks have zoomed by painlessly, in retrospect. Those tough moments may have felt all-consuming at the time but in fact they’ve been fleeting, and now, a month in, I’m learning to be kind to myself, firm but forgiving, diplomatic and fair but compassionate too.
I’ve lost a kilo more than my 10% already, and my clothes fit better. I’m no longer living with painful wind, bloating and cravings. I’m tired, but in a more honest way that I used to be – rather than fatigue and malaise, I just need more sleep. I’ve got renewed energy for cooking, and I’m still thinking about food a lot but in a more distant, objective, experimental way. Before, food made me think about it on its terms.
I also feel empowered. I feel like I’ve been let it in the secret, taught to drive my own body instead of being a helpless passenger. I could look back with bitterness but I’m trying to look forward with gratitude and optimism. Now I can go places and do things without the weight holding me back, literally and figuratively.
Who could ever imagine a short 5 weeks could change so much?