This is not another diet guide. It will not show you how to lose ten pounds by Thanksgiving. It will not introduce you to a new set of “miracle ab crunches” or rave about the latest liposuction advances.
And there will be no butt pads, silicone, or fat-free recipes to share.
I’m writing this because I, like many women, used to diet until I was dizzy.
I looked at my body and hated the parts that stuck out, and the ones that didn’t stick out far enough.
And I believed that having the so-called “perfect” body — at any expense — would guarantee success and eternal happiness.
Do I need to say it? I was deluded.
As women, our relationships with our bodies are dysfunctional at best. With multibillion-dollar diet and cosmetics industries barking at our heels, and even role models like Rosie O’Donnell caving to the “thin-is-in” pressure, loving our bodies is no stroll in the park.
It’s especially hard when our friends complain about their bodies, and our moms have been on diets since we were in diapers.
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