Thanks for the memories, not the pounds, Little Debbie

Standing in the grocery store line, I looked at a magazine cover. Another celebrity’s fast weight loss was the lead story. Ozempic-thin is the new label to throw at someone who loses a lot of weight rapidly.

Luckily, I don’t have to worry about being on the cover of a magazine for quick weight loss. I’ve been trying to lose the same 25 pounds since I was in my twenties.

Okay, 30 pounds.

Losing weight isn’t easy.

Diet experts tell you to throw away all the forbidden food in your pantry. I don’t see how innocent Little Debbie can be taboo, but she’s on the “Most Wanted List.”

She’s right up there with cute treats as Ding Dongs and Twinkies. How could they ever hurt you?

But in the trash they’re supposed to go. That’s throwing away good money, my mind tells me even though I know I shouldn’t have bought them in the first place.

My rational mind also says those empty-calorie treats aren’t healthy choices, but my checking account wins the argument.

Then there’s shame. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wonder who’s staring back.

Surely that’s not me.

Surely I don’t have two chins instead of one. Let’s not even mention what I see in the rear view mirror.

I feel awful, ugly and not worthy of anything. Except maybe that Little Debbie cake in the pantry because Little Debbie’s innocent and sweet.

Shame and guilt aren’t the best motivators. Just ask any Catholic that goes to confession time after time with the same sins they confessed 30 years ago.

Instead, I try motivation. Be your best self! Be healthy! Be strong! After all these years, I’m starting to think my best self is the one that wears oversized T-shirts and baggy sweat pants.

Can’t argue with maintaining a healthy weight – everyone knows those extra pounds cause trouble for the joints, back and everything else that goes wrong with your body.

Losing weight by myself is pretty hard. That’s why I’ve joined Weight Watchers at least a dozen times.

The first time I joined was when I was 25 years old. My dad called and said he’d signed me, my mom and himself up for Weight Watchers.

“You were fat before and you’re fatter now,” he said.

Ouch.

But it worked. Together we all lost weight and he kept it off. Mine returned home, much like Lassie did, with my first pregnancy. Then those pounds brought their friends with my second pregnancy and those pounds invited all their relatives to join the party on my hips.

I still go to Weight Watchers. The pounds leave, they return, and then we start the process all over again. They give out pins and awards for milestone weight losses – five pounds, ten, twenty, fifty. I keep wondering if they’re going to give out pins for those who’ve joined and rejoined Weight Watchers. If so, I’d have enough pins to fill a jewelry box.

I tried seeing a hypnotist – all that did was convince me that hypnosis might work on television, but not in real life. Plus my checking account was $100 lower.

I’ve been on the Sugar Busters and South Beach diets, Jenny Craig, Dr. Atkins and Carbohydrates Addicts plans. I donated all those books to the Friends of the Library.

I gave up real sugar for Sweet’n’Low, Coca Cola for Tab and chocolate for apples. For those of us with a real addiction to sugar, these substitutes don’t cut the mustard – which, by the way, has zero calories.

I suppose Little Debbie and I will have to finally come to a truce. She can live in my memories but not in my pantry.

I hope she understands.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

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