Dear Metabolism,
How have you been? I feel like we’ve drifted apart. Remember the days when I was in my twenties, effortlessly enjoying a whole Totino’s party pizza for lunch and still rocking a bikini later that day? Back then, I could devour a cheeseburger, do a few push-ups, and you’d be right there, ready to help me burn it all off. Those were the good times, and I miss them dearly.
I think it’s high time we had a chat because it seems like our relationship has become a bit lopsided. For the past week, I’ve been chugging down green smoothies for breakfast. Have you seen one of those? They resemble baby poop mixed with the green stuff I once saw after overindulging in jello shots. I gulp it down, do a few sit-ups to kickstart you, and then…nothing. I still have those stubborn jiggles, and it’s got to change.
Let’s be honest. You’ve been slacking. You don’t check in or let me indulge in cake without it sticking around. Come on, Metabolism! I love cake! Can’t you put in a little more effort here? I’d even be willing to ditch beer for football Sundays and discuss last Friday’s ice cream binge, if we can reach an agreement about the cake.
I’ve been doing everything right, or so I thought. I’m exercising more and eating smaller meals—everything you said would make you happy. Yet, every morning I step on the scale or try to put on my favorite jeans, and you’ve let me down again. The scale is aware. My jeans are aware. I am aware.
I need you to step it up! Take those 12 almonds I had for a snack and work your magic—get rid of those lumps! I even choked down a celery stick yesterday. Do you know how hard that was? I had to slather it with peanut butter just to make it edible. But hey, peanut butter is protein, right? I’m just trying to figure out what makes you happy these days. Is it high protein, low fat, no carbs? I’m ready to do whatever it takes.
I also have to mention that I’m getting tired of you spending so much time with my partner, Jake. He can eat and drink whatever he wants, and if he gains a few pounds, he’s like, “Oh, I guess I’ll skip lunch for a bit.” And then he’s back to normal. Not fair!
Okay, I know I’ve been a little dishonest. I might have gone overboard with the nachos last night, and I get it—my concept of a glass of wine might need some adjusting. And yes, I may have taken that chocolate study a bit too literally during PMS. But where’s the enthusiastic metabolism I used to know? I miss us.
So here’s the deal: I promise to stop buying Doritos and treating every night like spring break with tequila. In return, can we agree that I can enjoy an occasional slice of cake without it leading to a muffin top?
I’m ready to work on our relationship. I hope you will be there to support me too.
With love and hope,
Moms Everywhere