The Rude Dieter


Dear Internet,

I don’t like being rude.

Okay, that might be a lie. I like thinking about being rude, and telling some of these inconsiderate, self-first people I meet on a daily basis exactly where they can shove uncomfortable objects.

But I don’t like BEING rude.

And it’s hard to be on a diet in a work environment where people are constantly baking birthday cakes or bringing in celebratory cookies. Or vendors are wooing our company with donuts and bagels.

It’s hard enough to say no when your tummy is saying yes.

But it’s much, much harder to say no when the woman who baked this cake is offering you a piece, and it’s in celebration of someone’s birthday. Especially if you’ve made a habit of accepting cake in the past.

And triply so if you’re trying to not make a big deal out of the fact that you’re dieting.

Regardless of how silly it sounds, on some level we feel that it’s rude to turn down a gift, even if that gift is laden with calories, chemicals, sugar, and carbs.

You don’t want to upset the cook, or the birthday-person.

But you know that cake is going to end up on your hips, stalling you out, and supercharging your need to snack on sweet things for those who are addicted to sugar (like me).

But I have to be rude. I have to say “No thanks” and hope that’s enough. If she decides to take that as a personal insult, I really can’t help that.

But I can either be polite and fat, or rude and healthy. Obviously polite and fat is where I am NOW, and I don’t much like the scenery.

I’ve got to straighten my shoulders and be strong enough to say no.

Especially when the cookies are like stones and the cake is dry, flavorless, and from a box. Or when the bagels are a day old or the muffins are filled with enough preservatives to leave them on a shelf for months without going bad.

I want to choose. I know that I’m going to cheat, that I’m not going to be able to be one of those mythical “perfect little dieters”

So when I indulge, I want to CHOOSE my indulgence. I don’t want it to choose me.

I can pass up on that dry cake, that tooth-shattering cookie, because I know I won’t even enjoy them. Why eat the sugars and garbage if it doesn’t even TASTE good?!

My mom’s coming in this weekend, and we always eat worse (better, by traditional “family” standards) when she’s around. I’m going to make a point to choose a healthy menu for her visit, but the woman makes dynamite desserts. Instead of having her make multiples, I’ll request a single one, and eat a small portion of it.

And I guarantee that’s going to taste a TON better than anything I’m currently passing up at work. And since it’s homemade, I know what’s going in it.

She makes a seriously wicked strawberry/rhubarb oatmeal crumble that really only deviates from my current definition of “healthy” with a bit of brown sugar in the topping. I think I’ll request that instead of the pecan pie my stomach is currently clamoring for. Karo Syrup is the devil.

Also, on the subject of choosing my indulgences, the hubby needs ice cream to help him fall asleep at night. I got him a flavor that I’m not terribly fond of – strawberry with strawberry bits. I don’t like “bits” in my ice cream. The theory is that I will be less tempted by it, but should the need overtake me, I can have a bowl of it without feeling the need to scurry to the grocery store and buy a whole tub of sugar (or even worse, over to Culver’s for a blizzard).

I can choose.

The Dieting Ninja


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