I hate the word “diet.” It brings along so many negative things with it for me. For instance:
“I can’t eat THAT–I’m on a diet.”
There’s this idea that dieting means deprivation. I don’t like depriving myself. I’d like to think that I’m resetting my ability to consume in moderation. Nothing is off-limits for me, but you can bet I’m going to be thinking about my choices.
“Oh, God, I neeeed to go on a diet.”
Somehow dieting has become something that’s pretty near an unattainable goal to be started tomorrow. I want to commit to something. I want to do it. I already started and it’s ongoing. Again, I’d rather think of it as a reset.
Maybe it’s just me, but it seems like dieting is for women and it’s specifically done for appearances. Appearance is important to me, I won’t lie, but it’s also about comfort and health. And we’ll get to pay less for health insurance if I can get my BMI down by the time our company has health testing in September.
Diets center on specific foods.
Grapefruit. Cabbage soup. No carbs. No fats. No egg yolks. Shakes in cans. Green tea.
Nope. I’m not eating all something and none of something else. I know that there are certain “bad” foods that I’ve eaten in excess and certain “good” foods I’ve ignored. I’m not going to flat-out eliminate anything and I’m not going to make rules about what I can and can’t eat. I’m reducing my caloric intake in order to use stored energy. I’m eating more vegetables. Snacks are more likely to be picked than baked. I’m being thoughtful about what I put in my mouth.
I’ll never say “diet,” but I am being super careful about what I eat for a while.
Whatever works, eh?