Just call me Bridget Jones
I know this makes me sound like a huge spazz, but I’m planning on packing my scale. And, before you get all “Bryanna, that’s f*cked!” on me, let me try to explain.
Growing up I was never what you would classify as “skinny”, I did go through a chubby phase, but, in general, my body type was what you might call average. Not skinny, not fat, just average. This isn’t to say that I never desired to be thinner, I’m a girl, of course I did (and do), but my weight was not a big issue growing up. I played sports, my mom cooked healthy dinners and my dad packed me a healthy lunch. I even avoided the dreaded “Freshman 15” when I made the transition from high school to university.
However, I wasn’t so lucky when I made the transition from university to the work force. I gained 20 lbs. Very quickly. I was in denial for the first few months, but when I finally weighed myself, I couldn’t deny it any longer.
I was fat.
To make a long, hard, desperate story short, it took me 1 year, 1 very stressful job, and 2 very unhealthy months of disordered eating to finally lose the weight (25 lbs total). Since then, I have gained 5 lbs, but for over a year, I’ve maintained myself at a “healthy for me” weight. I attribute this to the fact that I keep track of my weight, not daily, but at least once a week. If I’m up one week, I tailor my diet the next week, perhaps cutting out those candies I pilfer from the candy bowl at work. Nothing drastic. It’s simple and it works for me.
One of my fears about moving to London is how the change in lifestyle will affect my body. I will be drinking more and probably moving less. I don’t want to be fat again. It’s a horrible feeling. Both physically and emotionally.
So there you have it. My scale is coming with me. Of course, I could just buy a scale there, but I prefer my weight in pounds not stones.