Yesterday, I had lunch with my super-skinny-from-birth friend, Laura.

I ordered poached eggs, dry toast, with a side of lettuce and tomato. Yummy, delicious and a favorite of mine.

Laura got and finished a huge plate of beef goulash and then enjoyed rice pudding for dessert.

Driving home from lunch, I wondered – is it worth it, the way I eat? Why not just let go and not worry? What would that be like?

Last night, I even dreamed that my mother decided to let go and not worry about what she ate and how her body looked. (Wow, THAT would have been something. Remember, this was a woman who got way too thin as she was dying from Parkinson’s Disease. They doctors begged her to eat more and to eat salt, so she’d retain water and have better balance. Day after day, she refused. She loved being skinny.)

When I woke up this morning, I thought about lunch and the dream and what it all means. I came to the realization that I need to look at the truth for me and what’s best.

Poached eggs with veggies are a perfect meal – for me. I like them, they fill me up and I leave too full.

I don’t have Laura’s metabolism, nor Laura’s ability to eat a really big meal and walk away and forget about it. If I started eating beef goulash, I wouldn’t know quite where to stop. Laura stops when she’s had exactly enough. If I then dove into rice pudding, I’d get completely lost.

My way works for me. Eating the way I do allows me to walk away from lunch, just as Laura does, and not think about it again. I’m not Laura. I’m me.

That’s cool.


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