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I’ve been known to pepper my speech with the occasional four letter word… but by far, the worst one to ever cross my lips was diet.

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I was a normal sized child, a small teenager and a slim but curvy young adult. 110 lbs when I married my husband, and though I would positively kill for that figure today? Nature got in the way.

I gained a little weight at 35, but no problem. I hardly noticed it.

I gained a little weight at 40, and okay.. maybe I went up a size (or two).

But then I had a hysterectomy at 52 and gained a whole lotta weight. Being forced into menopause wrecked me and my body was no longer my own. No matter what type of diet or exercise I tried, the weight stayed on.

Next up was Covid lockdown with my husband teleworking and me cooking 24/7, so yeah. Another 10lbs.

And if that wasn’t bad enough? I blew my knee out last October. Damaged my MCL and ended up with a deep root radial meniscal tear… the worst kind. The kind that doesn’t heal. The kind that keeps you off the treadmill and plonks you on the couch. 10 more pounds and I’ve just about lost the will to live. Yoga pants are my friend and my clothes are silently mocking me from the closet.

I’m tired.

Tired of being overweight.

Tired of Covid ruining our travel retirement plans.

Tired of killer knee pain every single day.

Tired of the ugliness in the world.

Tired of the political and cultural divide in this country.

But most of all?

I’m tired of diets.

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So to Hell with it. I’m happily married and don’t need to impress anyone. My health is good despite the ##lbs I’ve put on since I hit 50.

So ya know what…?

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I’m going to eat the cookie.

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