More Of The Good Stuff, Less Of The Bad Stuff
I’m on a new diet.
Actually, it’s an ANTI-DIET.
Because last year, when I turned 27 and realized that I was getting dangerously close to 30 and that I had more or less been on a diet for more (definitely not less) of the last decade of my life and then some, I knew something had to give (and my jeans were not one of those things).
I was fed up (or underfed?) with counting calories. I was tired of constantly restricting myself from the things I loved (pizza, chocolate, pizza) only to end up ordering 2 large pizza’s at 3 am after a night of definitely not restricting myself from vodka-waters.
I was tired of the guilt. Tired of the way I felt after eating: either still hungry because I wasn’t really eating, or way too full because I had been not-eating for far too long and had binged too hard and subsequently hated myself for my lack of willpower.
I was tired of pinching little pockets of fat all over my body in disgust. Tired of looking in the mirror at a reflection that didn’t feel like my own. Tired of a relationship with food that, if I were to broadcast it on Facebook, would definitely fall under the “It’s Complicated” category.
I was tired of a relationship with my body, mind, and spirit that was even more complicated.
I was tired.
And this wasn’t one of those tired’s you could just nap off; wake up from feeling like a new woman with a fresh perspective and the appropriate number of hours of sleep in a 24-hour period. No. I was far beyond that. I desperately needed to change, to “wake up” mentally, emotionally, spiritually.
(Though, I also probably could have used a nap).
And have I mentioned that I was (still am) extremely stubborn? While admitting to myself that I needed to change was a big first step, the even harder step came with the follow-through.
At 27 years old, I am a girl who is pretty set in her ways. I know what I like. I know what I don’t like. And with a wealth of independence gained from spending the last ten years living on my own, traveling on my own, and doing all the things a single girl in the city does on her own (like, forgo food for wine, clothes, and concerts; drink green smoothies because they're hip even though they cost $12; buy the shoes even though my bank account is in overdraft; go on all the bad first dates because I wouldn’t have been able to afford dinner otherwise, etc. etc.), it wasn’t as if I was just going to change everything, all at once, overnight.
Okay, I guess some things changed overnight. I got myself a BF (sans bribery, or blackmail) and suddenly my rent was cut in half so I could totes afford the shoes. AND, he came with a Vitamix, so I didn't have to worry about those $12 smoothies anymore. But still, I had some pretty unhealthy habits that I desperately needed to kick.
Here’s a list of everything I wanted to change:
- My relationship with food—no weight goal, just a “feel good” goal. Aka THE END OF DIETS!!
(Spoiler Alert: The last time I stepped onto a scale was two years ago—I feel like there's a Neil Armstrong joke in there somewhere, but I just can't see it RN.)
- My relationship with my body—to use it to its full capability, to talk to it like it belonged to someone I loved, to nourish it, to listen to it.
(It all started, here.)
- My relationship with myself—to love myself, to be happy, to enjoy my alone time, to be proud of myself.
(Fun Fact: Love Bomb Bootcamp was created because of this intense desire to change my relationship with myself.)
So I created a plan.
Actually, it was an anti-plan.
It was all about me (it can be about you, too). And it went directly against every single fad diet, workout regime, weight loss plan I’d ever struggled to follow.
I call it the “More of The Good Stuff, Less of The Bad Stuff” (anti)plan.
Because that’s exactly what it is.
It means, eating a little bit more of the green stuff, and a little bit less of the white stuff, but not restricting myself from any of the stuff.
It means a little bit more of going for walks, or bike rides or rollerblades or other things that involve getting out of the house and a little bit less of watching Netflix in bed—when I have the time.
It means a little bit more of taking the stairs, and a little less elevators, escalators, and those crazy moving walkways at airports.
It means a little more green tea, and only slightly less bubble tea.
It means spending my Friday nights exactly how I want to, and not feeling pressured to do anything I don’t want to.
It means more skinny-dipping and less worrying about what my body looks like in a bikini.
It means reading less gossip rags that spark my comparisonitis, and a few more books that feed my heart mind and soul. (Comment below, if you want suggestions!)
It means less time scrolling, and more time connecting.
It means making conscious decisions every single moment about what it is that I want and what it is that makes me happy and what it is that gets me to my goal.
It means exactly what it says: more of the good stuff, less of the bad stuff.
The most beautiful thing about the anti-diet? There’s no way to f*ck it up.
Sound Amazing? It Is. Join me, I dare you — I'm here for you one-thousand-percent.
Feature Image via the beautiful @SamBlacky