Advice from a small town girl

As I was reading (yet another) book that promised to have the solution to my weight problem, I realized that what I really want is to be a success story.

Success stories are intended to be inspiring, I know, but when I read about other people who were a hundred pounds overweight and managed to lose it, I get depressed.

Because, when it comes to my health, weight, or housekeeping, I just don’t seem to be able to stick to any kind of plan.

Any individual who succeeds at changing themselves should be a role model for me, but I only seem to be able to see the differences between us. And those differences give me excuses for not even trying.

It’s easy to see why I will never shine as the subject of an article about success.

The particular program I was reading about made a certain amount of sense to me, by proposing that sensitivity to some foods (or components of foods) was the real culprit in my out-of-control life. At least this author had the guts to admit that while her program is simple, that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

I want easy.

I want success, but I don’t really want to have to work for it.

I don’t want deprivation to be the definition of the rest of my life.

That little Puritan me that hides deep inside me (I can usually shut her up if I eat enough chocolate peanut butter ice cream, or Girl Scout cookies) is pretty sure that eliminating those foods would make me feel better. After all, most of my problem foods belong to the "Highly Processed" food group, and I know that all that processing can’t be good for my food or for me.

Now, I can dimly remember the four food groups that were listed as important for one’s health back in the dark ages:

1) Meat, poultry, fish, dried beans and other significant sources of protein

2) Dairy, including milk, cheese and yogurt

3) Grains, which back then included such wonder foods as Wonder Bread

4) Fruits and vegetables.

When I was first introduced to semi-solid foods as a tot, there were only three things I could eat without the meal ending in an activity I’m sure you’d rather not read about.

So I ate lamb, rice and green beans.

Every meal. Every day.

The family doctor helped my mother to gradually introduce other foods into my meals, and my menus expanded. I don’t remember any of this, of course. I was really little. Or maybe I just don’t want to remember.

Either way, it makes me wonder if food sensitivity is responsible for my situation.

But back to success stories.

Whenever I had to write a paper for a college class, I always began by writing an outline. They were pretty simple and didn’t take up much of my time. Just a few words in the outline, and I would know which information to include in each section of the paper.

Maybe that’s a technique I can use to create my own success story.

Maybe it’s time to outline the rest of my life.