The Weight Watcher’s Woes

How have you been spending the long break? While most of you will go to out-of-town trips and enjoy the native delicacies, I’m sure some of you have been eating your heart out in the comforts of your home. Either way, long breaks is also synonymous to eating fest.

For people who would know me personally, they’d probably throw daggers at me for even talking about this. Among my siblings, I have always been the skinny one. I remember my grandmother would always give me more rice, more food, more everything, in an attempt to make me look “healthier.”

Most of my sisters are big boned… while I would be the only butiki in the family. I remember at one point, my aunts told my mom to watch over me as they were suspecting I might be taking drugs for being too skinny. But of course, that’s just being exaggerated.

I have always been happy with my metabolism. I would eat piles and piles of food and still look this way. While my sisters would diet and control themselves in buffet, I would have 5 rounds of plate and still be in this small frame. My relatives and officemates would often get surprised when they see me eat. Not just eat, it’s lamon. They’d be amazed and wonder as to where would all the food go.

When I was still at my old house, I would weigh myself every morning and get that blissful feeling of satisfaction whenever I see the weight pointer fall steady on 98lbs. It has always been that way. The lowest weight I remember having was at 90lbs–I think I was already in college then. Being underweight is normal for me. I remember getting carried by the wind once when I was crossing Taft one day.

My frame has carried on like this for years until the past year I noticed that my metabolism is starting to get lazy. ๐Ÿ™ About six months ago, I reached 120+ lbs–and though it just means I’m moving from underweight to normal weight–I was a bit alarmed. I tried so bad to get back to my normal 98lbs, but boy, it just wasn’t as easy as before.

When I was in my early 20s and whenever I would get modeling appointments, I would just give myself 2-3 days and lose all the weight I needed for the shoot. But this time, I have been dieting for weeks and weeks and nothing happened. I really don’t know how much I weigh now, but I sure am not eating as much as before. All for the fear of being overweight.

My mom used to tell me she had a smaller frame than me prior giving birth. This made me so scared of childbearing since time immemorial. What if I’d be 80kgs after giving birth? Be twice my size? My gosh. My imagination would really take its toll on me sometimes.

It’s been a while since I had any hearty buffet. For the past year, I have been watching my weight like crazy. My muffin top and love handles are just there sitting and smiling back at me… waiting to grow bigger. I just dread the days when I’d be in my 30s… or even 40s. Gosh. God knows what my metabolism can do to me. Hopefully it won’t take an indefinite leave on me.

Don’t you even talk to me about exercise. I don’t do exercise. The times I go try “jogging”–actually more of brisk walking–with my boyfriend, I end up panting like I was about to have a heart attack. The only exercise I can tolerate is yoga… and maybe badminton. I guess both are for wuss like me.

My boyfriend has been really kind and encouraging. He wants to see me eat and tells me that I’d look better if I put on more weight. But come on, no guy in his right mind would want an elephant for a girlfriend… especially when everybody knows how little I used to weigh. If only all the food would fall straight to my boobs and not go down any further… LoL.

In the past week, I have tried to remove rice from my meal… but I end up eating noodles so I guess it’s all the same ๐Ÿ™ Now I can’t even eat 6 slices of pizza in one go without thinking which meal should I skip next to compensate my binge eating. I’m too scared to finish a box of 6 cupcakes.

How about you? What are your weight watcher’s woes?

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