dreamstimecomp_5025899Did you know that fifteen jelly beans are just four Weight Watchers points? This past week, I consumed 60 points in jelly beans alone — in one day. That’s right. An entire bag. And that doesn’t take into account the chocolate bunny, marshmallow Peeps and Cadbury eggs eaten throughout the week. The only thing I seemed able to control myself on were the actual Easter eggs.  I still have bright purple, blue and pink eggs behind the plastic butter door of my refrigerator.

I know I shouldn’t keep candy in the house. Pacing myself on sweets is a foreign concept. I may have confessed this before (I tell so many embarrassing stories on myself, I lose track) but I used to force portion control by throwing baggies of treats across the room. It was too much trouble to get from the couch back into the wheelchair to hunt them down. That worked for a while. Not anymore. A few weeks ago, I actually came out of the wheelchair to crawl on the kitchen floor to retrieve a bag of M&M’s I had thrown out of reach into a corner cabinet. Pathetic. In a 12-step program, that’d be called my rock bottom. A girlfriend and I decided that the one binge-proof place would be in a high cabinet. She would come over to place the goodies out of my reach. I can see the headline now. Disabled Woman Dies Trying to Reach Cookies.

Perhaps you all think you know what comes next —  some lesson on moderation, diet motivation or tips for weight loss. Wrong! I give up. I’m officially throwing in the towel. I’ve been trying to lose 10 or 15 pounds for one or two years now. And all I have to show for the deprivation when I’m good and guilt when I’m bad is a steady and maintaining 155. (See? I’m publishing my actual weight on the Internet. I have no shame.)

Please don’t misunderstand. I’m still a proponent for healthy living. I don’t plan on gaining. I’ve just decided to give myself a break. I hate to use the wheelchair excuse again, but it does apply here. I mean, not only is cardio exercise harder for me to get but why curb my enjoyment of life even more than the hemorrhage already has?

So, this post is about self-acceptance. I’m still counting points and know what my daily limit should be. I’m just not fretting over the occasional dessert out. Or half-pound bag of jelly beans as the case may be. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ll never again have the body I had at 27. And that’s okay. Really. It was a whole lot of work, anyway.

So ditch the guilt! And not just about your body. A friend of mine always beats herself up over the clutter in her home. She collects a lot of stray objects to reuse as art projects. But you know what? That clutter makes her happy. And in the end, she has some beautiful handmade objects to show for it. So I say, embrace your mess! And your rolls.

dreamstimecomp_13261140In the words of my favorite card this Easter, “All I need to know I learned from the Easter bunny: the best things in life are still sweet and gooey and some body parts should be floppy.”

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