I have a condition that prevents me from dieting. It’s called being [really] hungry.” (Aunty Acid)
Dear Quarter Pounder
Cheese Burger, Chicken Nuggets, French Fries, Strawberry Milkshakes, and
especially Pepperoni Pizza,
Why you gotta
be so good? I know, seriously, in a letter I'm supposed to ask, "How are
you?" but I already know what the answer is. You're always good: cold, hot
or half-eaten. You are the only one that doesn't judge me for taking that extra
slice even though I know I shouldn't. In fact, you challenge me to finish that
whole pizza on my own, or eat 20 nuggets instead of 10. Thank you for always
pushing me. However, I've noticed that sometimes the encouragement comes at a
price.
Summer is just around the corner, and
guess who's not "bathing suit ready" for another year
running... me. Sometimes, I wish you would just go away. I know that's hard
to hear, but with the world we're living in today, the conflict between getting
that large fry and looking skinny is one that always presses at the back of my
subconscious. You make me forget about what the world thinks in those few bites
that I have with you, but after, I'm left feeling chunky and alone.
It's a
love/hate relationship that runs deep between us, Food, and I wouldn't change it
for the world. I hate that you taste so good, and you love that I constantly
want you. I know I can seem needy at times, but that's because I really do love
you. You make me feel something that I've never felt before with anyone else:
pure happiness. You make me forget about body shaming and allow me to say,
"I don’t care what anyone thinks because that last bite is mine."
Thank you for your continuous support. I'll see you again soon.
Love always,
The Woman (Who Just
Can't Say “No”)[i]
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