Weight Loss Journal, Day 6

I had an interesting conversation with Rob tonight over dinner. After stopping by to visit his dad in the rehab center, we went to the Melrose Diner in South Philly.

Can I just take a moment here to wax rhapsodical about the Melrose Diner? It's just...aahhhhhhhhhh. That sigh right there? The sigh of a contented person observing all manner of interesting and colorful characters, in an atmosphere that hasn't changed in decades. Something in the unchangeable quality of places like that just does something for me. I love it. Oh, and the food is good, too.

Anyway, after eating dinner (I admit, I felt overly full when I was through, and I didn't finish my entree...or my rice pudding...) Rob and I talked about weight loss. I was in despair - once again I had forgotten everything I was "supposed" to do and eaten spaghetti and meatballs*. And rice pudding. And I'm supposed to be LOSING weight! That's what I said to Rob. "You know what I weigh, I posted it yesterday," I said. He nodded. "Why do I do this?" I despaired.

"Because you like food," he replied calmly. "We both like food. We enjoy sitting down to a big dinner. Think about it - some of the best memories you have are probably those of sitting around the dinner table with your family, and of Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas dinner."

"Yeah, but for me, Christmas dinner is every day, that's my problem," I retorted sourly. Again I asked why I am the way I am.

"You like food, that's all there is to it. Some people aren't like that, and some people are," he replied.

I wish it was as black-and-white for me as it is for him. Maybe he just truly loves food, and if that's the case good for him. But I have to sat that I feel it's different for me on some level. Loving food is one thing - eating to the point of illness is another. Plus there's the eating out of boredom, sadness, loneliness, etc etc that I and so many other people do - there is work to be done there, the pinpointing of when that happens and why, and how to prevent it.

Still, my husband had a point. I do simply love food. I love making a big meal, it's my way of showing love to others. I love the taste and smell and feel of food.

I just need to learn to love it and still love myself.



*The meatballs were clearly homemade, NOT purchased frozen from the store. I was in heaven. I mean, a diner making their own meatballs? Who does THAT? It was worth eating them if only for the joy that revelation brought to me.