The greatest trick the devil ever pulled…

…was convincing the world that diets = control. Bull. Shit.

I can sum up *actual* control in one sentence: “I can eat whatever I want whenever I want it.” That’s it. 10 words, infinite possibilities.

On the contrary, the life of a dieter is based on a million arbitrary parameters and variables and endless opportunities for disappointment and guilt and failure. Such as:

“My diet treat is one Tic Tac.”


“I can eat whatever I want as long as it’s [celery/fat-free cheese/my cheat day].”

“I can eat [Oreos/pasta/peanut butter] but only if I [just have one/eat before 5 p.m./can fit it in this BeachBody container].”

“I can consider this day on earth a success as long as I [stay on track/follow my plan/don’t lose control].”

Thanks to decades of highly persuasive diet indoctrination, we have come to accept this as the pinnacle of control. But it doesn’t feel like control, does it? Of course not. It’s a constant battle for domination over an innate biological urge: hunger. 

Eating whatever you want whenever you want it IS control. This is you in the driver’s seat. It is the ultimate unwavering, unrestricted, clear-headed control over your life. There is no food panic because you don’t have food rules.

Now, if past-life me were reading this, this is the part where she would start freaking out. “BUT WAIT THAT’S NOT TRUE WHAT ABOUT MODERATION AND PORTION CONTROL. WON’T SOMEONE PLEASE THINK ABOUT MODERATION AND PORTION CONTROL.”

Actually: no. I do not need to think about moderation and portion control. My body is brilliantly designed to do that for me. Not Weight Watchers, not Beach Body, not Jenny Craig, not NutriSystem, not Lean Cuisine. My body. I’ve taken back my control, and I’m never, ever giving it to someone else again.

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