Munchies and Weight Loss are not compatible! *Sigh*

Dare I say, could they have been right?

Dare I say, could they have been right?

I recently posted a rant on how it feels to give up every ambrosia of the Gods: Sugar, flour, starches, in ALL ITS FORMS- Whole or ground, natural or artificial. My taste buds, gut lining and brain chemistry don’t seem to give a shit about those subtle differences. Bread, whether white or dyed-brown (because you know all that so-called “whole wheat” shit is just white bread dyed brown with a few seeds thrown in), whether made of nothing but flax seeds or spouted quinoa, I will still binge on it like it’s my last meal on death row. Oh and I don’t care what the Paleo community says; cauliflower can never replicate potatoes and a burger wrapped in lettuce is ridiculous.

That’s what it’s like when you are a carbohydrate addict. One-bite will never be enough and a thousand bites will never be too much. 

Which brings me to my next sacrifice being offered on altar of denial: WEED.


Since I was 19, I have been an avid and proud partaker in pot smoking. I have heralded it as the perfect party drug, touting it as having greater performance than alcohol ( and without the risk of killing someone in a car accident) and safer than meth or ecstasy. Just to put it out there, I have experimented much. Raves are where I got my start, I have many memories of mushroom trips, “candy-flipping”, “hippie-flipping”, and taking little pills with names like: Superman, Melissa, Green Clovers and Mitsubishis. Clearly, judgement is not an issue here. But what is an issue is the change in my own body’s chemistry and its ability to process what I put into it. Perhaps this is a part of the aging process, or maybe I have simply maxed out my lifetime quota of allowed marijuana use early. I must say, at only 34 years old, I cannot make an old-timers claim that I’ve “smoked everyday for the last 20 years with no problem (cough).” I did my heaviest smoking in my college years and early 20’s. Yes, I did go through a phase where I was totally a “wake and bake” kinda girl. I have owed a 5 piped hookah, a glass bong and a pipe make out of an antler. But every day, multiple times day, for years on end without pause? Not me. My use was sporadic. Sometimes I would go many months without touching the stuff. On average I would say two or 3 times of month became my norm in my late 20’s early 30’s.

One of my favorite stories of being stoned was when I hung a wig on a light bulb in my closet, WHILE THE LIGHT WAS ON! I was sitting in the living room smoking with a friend, and we could not stop coughing. We chalked it up to it being really good stuff when we noticed that while we were smoking a lot, there was no way all the smoke surrounding us could be coming from us. As our coughing nearly led us to go outside, I peered at the closet and smoke (non weed of course) was sifting through cracks of the door! I opened it to find a melted mess of synthetic hair that had melted down the bulb and onto the floor. My friend and I still laugh about the incident to this day.


Yes, I have had many good times with reefer, but I am not one to front. I have also had some not-too-good times as well. I have had a few panic attacks, and episodes of wild paranoia. However, those incidents were so infrequent that the good times outshined them, until recently. In addition to the fact that I get horrible munchies that are nearly impossible to control, they are now accompanied by new symptoms such as: Headaches, agitation, mood swings, fatigue, and depression.

I have been conducting this “can I smoke without getting the bad after effects?” experiment for some time. Once a month, I will smoke. Each time I will feel great, for a few hours.  Afterwards comes the  familiar munches, causing me to crave all my no-no foods and the aforementioned symptoms. There are no words to express how saddened I was by this discovery. 😦

What happened? I am not sure. There are many theories I have explored. But at this point it doesn’t even matter because one thing is clear: The disadvantages have finally outweighed the benefits of smoking. I have too much to lose, and it is no longer worth all the suffering I now know for sure I cannot avoid, only for a few hours of dancing on clouds and pondering the nature of a glass of water.

I expect weed to always be a part of my dance culture. People bond while smoking and it is certainly a lot of fun if you don’t have a brain chemistry that is negatively affected by it. I will terribly miss the feeling of camaraderie that comes from passing a joint in a circle of people, laughing and conversing.

And that is the real issue. It’s not really about dancing on clouds or pondering the nature of water at all, it is about that feeling of camaraderie, that feeling of being on the “inside”, bonded with my hippie family. Because everybody knows that dancing on clouds alone is boring! I am an extrovert, so I don’t have as much social anxiety talking with strangers, but I’d be lying if I said that doing while high is more fun and easier even for an extrovert like myself.

Also I genuinely love House Music and other genres of EDM, so it’s not like I can’t enjoy it without the pot, but it did enhance my experience. Weed is the MSG of music culture. I don’t have to have it, but when it’s not there I definitely notice the difference. This is where weed and carbs are similar for me. When you first go off of having pancakes soaked in warm maple syrup, and instead have eggs and bacon sans toast, it’s just not the same. Now that I will be entering the social and party world sans drugs of any kind, I expect that I will experience a transition period.

marijuana-snack-food-postersDetox at this level is deep and painful. It is an acknowledgement of where I used crutches and ridding myself of them. It means being willing to make massive changes in my life and making choices that are in alignment with my new values. It means giving up some things, while always focusing the mind on the goal.

My goal is to lose 117 pounds. Run my own business. Become a master of my craft. These are gargantuan dreams. And if weed must die on the altar in order to have it. So be it.


267 pounds! Weigh In #1

267 pounds! Weigh In #1

What would a weight loss journey blog be if there were no weigh-ins or pictures?

Today we begin with the tracking of my weight. Next will come the pictures(*gasp*). 3 years ago when I started this blog, my weight was 302 pounds. Today I weigh in at 267 pounds. Great, I have lost roughly 10 pounds a year. At that rate it would take 12 years to reach my goal!

And what is my goal? Target weight: 150 pounds. And not in 12 years, but 18 months. That’s giving myself 6.5 pounds a month or about a pound and a half a week. Totally doable.

I must lose 117 pounds. For a total weigh loss of: 152 pounds! No surgery. No pills. No bullshit. OK maybe a little BS, but only if it fits in with my lifestyle change. I am going hard-core. By eating for optimum health and exercising to maximize the potential of this body I have (really I mean what’s left of it), I will succeed.

What makes this attempt different from the dozens of failed ones in the past?

The pain of not taking action has finally superseded the perceived pain of taking action. To put it another way, the pain of realizing that I have wasted another year of my life at 34, wearing flat shoes with special cushioning and barely comfortable in missionary position has become more painful than the thought: “.. I have to give up Mexican food, marijuana, wheat, sugar in all its forms, dairy, grains and then exercise till I am a sweating sore mess everyday..” (Perhaps you can empathize as to why it took so long to finally reach a decision, I mean really pot-smoking vs. running on a treadmill?) 

I got “sick and tired of being sick and tired” to use the threadbare but true cliché. The pain of the consequences of being an obese woman finally became overwhelming. I had two choices, literally. I could commit suicide or I could throw myself wholeheartedly into getting what I want. I chose what’s behind door #2, thank you.

What is my motivation? What do I want?

I want:

  • To be attractive to the opposite sex ( and you know being married doesn’t make that desire go away if you are honest)
  • To FEEL attractive and desirable
  • To FEEL feminine and dainty
  • To FEEL self-respect and pride in myself
  • To be able to wear high heel shoes for the first time in my life
  • To be able to shop for cute clothing at reasonable prices in ANY store
  • To be able to have sex in what I now call “skinny girl positions”
  • To FEEL comfortable in a bathing suit in public
  • To be rid of the sense of shame and hatred of my body
  • To be able to dance at my EDM parties, clubs and all-night house music fests without having to take break every 5 minutes, while spending the rest of my weekend in an epsom salt bath
  • To be able to walk up stairs without feeling like I am about to have a heart attack
  • To no longer rely on baby powder on my inner thighs, between my back rolls and under my belly flap to stop the painful chafing and sweat irritation
  • To be able to wear something made out of a single piece of material secured by nothing but string, tie it on and walk out of the house NOT looking like a walrus tangled in a ball of yarn
  • For the last few years that I can pull it off, before I turn 40 I want to know what it feels like to be HOT
  • To have the sense of being in control of my life and destiny— Not not feel like I am a victim of my circumstances

My motivation is to reclaim my sense of womanhood, of the femininity that has been denied me all my life. For me, my weight grossly distorted what being female was to me. I have always felt that I wasn’t really either sex. I wasn’t feminine enough to be considered a real woman, but not masculine enough to be a man. I just floated though my life in a kind of gender no-mans-land, patching together what I could, but ending up where many obese black girls do: As an extroverted, care-taking, “strong”, motherly, matronly, jolly and most importantly NON-SEXUAL MAMMY. I will write a separate post where I’ll delve deeper into my Mammy obsession, but for now, just know that I was one of them.

So that is how I spent my life. A fat chick on the sidelines of life, looking in on the party but not being able to sufficiently muster up enough of that magic internal power to take charge of her life. Steeped in anger, self-pity, resentment, fear, self-loathing and a sense that I was controlled by my outer circumstances, I took solace in the arms of the enemy. Food.

I have been carrying this baggage since I was 7 years old. Being a fat girl was not something I did, it’s WHO I WAS. I did not have a reference point of a time when I was skinny to use a way to motivate myself. When I finally get thin, it will the FIRST TIME I HAVE EVER BEEN THAT WAY. I believe that I am going to become another person. Or rather, release the screaming thin girl inside. Why has it taken so long? I cannot sufficiently answer that question. All I know is that I am glad I now have the momentum, and I am going to ride the wake of my personal power until I reach the shores of my goal. Once I accomplish this, I will have the certainty I need to move forward towards my true purpose in being alive, which is to serve humanity by working with young people.

In order to get respect you have to give it, and in order to give it, you must respect yourself.  I could never truly respect myself as an obese woman. I’ll tell you why. Because I my fat is not something inevitable. It is not irreversible. Fat is not like losing your legs in war, or an AIDS diagnosis. No matter how much of a victim of my fat I may have been, until I could find the way out of it, and take control of my health, there is no way I could have long-standing influence in anyones life. The only way I could respect myself as an obese woman, is if it was medically impossible for me to lose weight, because then I would not have to question my strength of character.

So my desire to be a thin woman is a combination of the superficial and the profound. My being human makes it so. I will never apologize for how I feel or my opinions, because this is my journey. I hope that I will inspire those who read what I share about myself, because I believe that I have a viewpoint that you won’t typically find in the weight loss realms of fat positivity and size-ism protestors.

I am not here to help any fat girl feel better about being fat. If you are about that, you are on the wrong blog honey- the whole “love myself as I am” bullshit I tried for nearly two decades and it never worked. I now see that all the effort I put in to trying to love myself while obese could have simply went to losing the damn weight.

But such is life and I am happy to finally be where I need to be on the way to where I am going. Next weigh-in, August 11th.


Todays After Workout Lunch….. (This is what I CAN eat..lol)

Todays After Workout Lunch..... (This is what I CAN eat..lol)

Spinach, chopped dill pickle, boiled egg, black olives, cucumbers (pre-pickle state) chicken breast (with the skin-don’t hate)!
Dressing: Braggs Aminos, Apple cider vinegar, lemon juice, olive oil, black pepper.

Gluten free, dairy free, nightshade free, low carb, paleo.

I can’t believe I didn’t miss tomatoes! Pickles are my new friend for tart and crunch!

Calories? Fiber content? Fat, vitamins, minerals, etc.

Who cares? When you are living on a diet of meat and veggies, as long as you don’t see me post a photo of an entire roasted bird, I think I am going to get my requirements.

Bon Appetit!


Carbohydrate Withdrawal: No Sugar, Starches, legumes, or Fruit!


What the fuck CAN I eat then?

This question spits from drawn back teeth ready to tear the face off anyone who dares to answer. For the past 4 years by body has undergone a radical change in its metabolism, and it took months of guesswork to find out what was causing the “random” drunken-like stupors, the infamous “brain-fog”, the heart pounding sweats followed by 6-12 hours of sleep, migraine headaches from hell, joint stiffness and aches, sleepiness after eating two slices of pizza that no amount of coffee stop, and mood swings that would make a typical bi-polar sufferer look sane by comparison. All this would be preceded or followed by insurmountable cravings for starchy and sweet foods. Foods that I have eaten all of my life with no perceptible problems until the change began. Here is a list of my all time favorites:

  • Loaded Nachos with cheese, sour cream, guacamole, beans, sauce and meat
  • Warm fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies
  • In & Out cheeseburger with : “Animal Style” fries
  • Corn dogs
  • Pizza (deep dish)
  • Macaroni and cheese
  • Loaded Baked Potato(Yes, I like everything loaded) With sour cream, butter, bacon bits, cheese
  • Warm fresh-baked brownies
  • Warm Bread Pudding
  • Sourdough Garlic Bread with butter
  • Ben & Jerry’s Cookies and Cream Ice Cream

As my research deepened I began to stumble upon information about metabolic disorders, namely prediabetes and diabetes. I bought several books, read hundreds of articles and research documents and after a couple of years of monitoring and experimenting, I diagnosed myself as a sufferer of a prediabetic condition who is a fast oxidizer with type O blood and is in danger of becoming a full-blown type 2 diabetic at anytime and should not have been eating any of the foods mentioned on the list above to begin with.

However, I had eaten those things all my life, without consequence.  It turns out that Diabetes is a disease of progression. A very slooooooooow progression for most, taking years to manifest the symptoms that can be detected by the sufferer. By then, however, one is accustomed to their S.A.D (Standard American Diet) and is most likely addicted to the drug like substances that these foods ultimately are.

Withdrawal is real. And it is ugly. Just knowing that the pain would disappear (for about an hour or so) if I ate a doughnut was too much to bear. Escape by watching TV is impossible because as soon as I am locked in to my favorite South Park episode, Carl’s Jr. sticks a huge burger in my face accentuating melting cheese around crispy bacon edges, highlighting the delightful contrast between the heat of the meat, the softness of the bun and the cool crunch of lettuce for a perfect finish. Before I know it, I am raging through the house throwing books and flipping over the dining room table before smashing a vase against the wall and slumping to the floor in a pitiful, waling pile of shame (true story). There is no rehab for sugar-starch addicts and I am so blessed to be a stay at home housewife otherwise I am certain that I would have lost my job due to how debilitating the process can be (probably by murdering someone in a fit of rage at the company party when the CEO decides to treat the office to Krispy Kremes).

This is maybe my 10th time giving it a go, and I have failed previously because I was not vigilant with each and every food that goes into my mouth. Now, at 34 years old and still obese I am ready to make the “big-chop” in my diet. I am giving it all up. Because I must. There are too many “gateway foods” that slowly lure me back into the cycle. And they are:

  • Artificial sweeteners
  • Stevia
  • rice
  • sweet potatoes
  • very sweet fruits (pineapple, mangoes, bananas, apples)
  • ANYTHING that has even a granule of sugar in it

So like the folks in Overeaters Anonymous, (which I tried, but just wasn’t for me I’ll post on my experience with that soon) certain foods are treated like Alcohol or crack, which eliminates the concept of “moderation” which to my understanding, doesn’t even work even for most “normal eaters”, but it’s still the number one fallacious advice given to those seeking weight loss. You have to go cold turkey, give it all up FOREVER… FOREVER… FOR-E-VER…

Bum Bum BUM! (Cue horror movie screams)

This is some motherfucking bullshit. I pretty much am going to be stuck eating meat and vegetables for the rest of my life and since I don’t eat dairy or nightshades, its pretty slim pickings.  I have went from being a playboy bunny beauty queen to being a warted winked ugly hag seemingly overnight. I used to have choices galore, now I am lucky if can get a wink from the wino stumbling in front of the liquor store. This is hard. It will require immense mental acrobatics because I am only going to feel worse if I continue to focus on what I can’t have. (Next post…. What I CAN have)

It’s a habit that has not served me well, always pining for what I want, but not taking action. What could be more definitive of hell?

So there we have it, I want to be skinny and it turns out I have to pay a higher price than most. It’s fucking unfair, and once I reach my goal I am going to milk every reward down to the last drop. It’s like going to a luxury car lot, where the cars are already pushing the triple digits. I want the Ferrari. It retails for $300,000.00. Pretty steep, but I am willing to go for it and that’s to be expected for a sports car. Everyone else paid that price. They worked hard to get to a point where they could have a Ferrari. But the salesman tell me I have to pay $2,000,000.00 (That’s with Dr.Evil putting his pinky to the corner of his crumb-crusted mouth) for the same fucking car. I protest that it’s not fair, that other people have to only pay a small portion of what I do. At that, everyone in the dealership stops, glares and me and says in unison: “..Life isn’t fair! Why don’t you stop worrying about other people and just focus on what you must do…”


That’s what this is like. Clearly most people are ignorant of the fundamentals of motivation psychology, but be that as it may, ultimately I must pay the price, however inflated it is, if I want the results. I always knew that I would have to make sacrifices to get what I want, but damn it is extraordinarily difficult to sustain the much-needed motivation when I will be working 3 times as hard to achieve same payoff everyone else gets. I didn’t sign up for the socialism diet. Not everyone has to give up EVERYTHING FOREVER just to get a nice body. Or do they? I am not trying to be come an Olympian athlete, but hell, I may as well try for the price I have to pay!

Such is life, this is my rant. And now on with it!


3 Years since my last post! & The tyranny of the “By-Now” Game…


A sense of shame washes over me as I conclude that I have wasted another 3 years of my life. My mind thinks that by now if I only had the dedication, will-power, strength, and a host of other virtues that I clearly am missing, then my blog would be successful by now. If it weren’t for my pathetic laziness, my fear solidified by over-valuing comfort, this blog would have hundreds of entries, by now.  And thousands of followers! By now, I would have reached my ideal weight, the before and after pictures would be posted, and I would be working on my book deal and soon to make appearances on a national TV show! But neigh, here I am, on the morning of my 34th birthday having only lost 30 pounds in 3 years, with a blog that has only one entry from the date it was created.

What happened? Or to put it more succinctly, what DID NOT happen?

Clearly there was a lot that has not happened. What did not happen is reaching a point in my life where I was forced to make a decision, that coincided with my true values. I thought I had made decisions before, dozens of them in the past three years. There was the time I decided to become a member of a food addiction 12 step group, or decided to go on the metabolic typing diet, there also was a quick run in becoming a born-again Christian, becoming a EDM DJ, and promising myself for the last time that I would work out at least 4 times a week- with home videos- or at the gym- or in the pool- or home videos…

Yet all I was really doing was spinning my wheels, fumbling through choices.

I realize that motives count. All of my motivations rested on the foundations of fear. Fear and hatred. Fear of failure, and hatred of myself. This is not a winning combination.

What has changed? I have. By letting go of the “By-Now’s” I can finally focus on what is most important. HERE and NOW. You know, what all the New-Ager’s call the “Present Moment.”

One of my incantations for my morning Hour of Power walks is: “At last, at last, the past is the past. I’ve broken free and won. Now its time to love myself and really have some fun.” I must continue to condition myself out of the ugly past and into the now and the beyond of a bright future.

So the Shrinking Black Girl is back! And this time there will be no By-Now’s, only NOW.


Myth #1: Black girls LIKE being fat


I think there is no better way to begin a weight-loss blog than with some good old myth busting. I sat in front of my computer for such a long time this morning  debating whether or not to include the fact that I was “black” in the blogs title.  After all, when it comes to being a fat girl, race doesn’t really make a difference does it? Don’t fat girls of all races have a shared experience when it comes to things like: Romance, men, food, fashion, social lives, representation in the media, discrimination?

Or is it true that FAT BLACK FEMALES have somehow managed to get around the cultural norms for fat women? Is it really true that as so many “studies” suggest, black women are happier than their “white counterparts” when it comes to body  image? (The scientists just love comparing black women to white ones don’t they? Yes, there will be an entry on this too)


Celebrities are universal images that most people have seen, therefore I will be using them to illustrate some examples. Let’s take a look. Has anyone seen how much these ladies have lost weight and transformed their bodies?  Monique, Queen Latifah, Star Jones,  Jennifer Hudson, Missy Elliot, does anyone remember Kelly Price?

Every fat black girl I know whether as an acquaintance, friend or stranger I met on the train, expresses a desire to lose weight. I can’t tell you even one 200lb. or 300 pound black girl who doesn’t want to find a way to transform her body to look like Beyoncé’s.  And why shouldn’t we?  Any heterosexual female reading this knows why.

You may have noticed the image I chose to headline my blog. The photo is not actually me, but at the very moment  I write this, it’s  a striking resemblance. I wish I could be there standing next to you to see your reaction. You know, the reaction you would have in private before thoughts of political correctness, sympathy or guilt set in. After all it’s okay in our private thoughts to acknowledge how gross, unsexy, unattractive, disgusting, deformed and disfigured rolls of fat around a womans abdomen can be. It kills the hip-to-waist ratio! It’s just plain unsightly and ugly! Not to mention the chafing, back pain, knee-creaking, cellulite, skin-discolorations, strech marks and a host of other obesity-related ills! Oh but excuse me, I’m happy this way…. Um yes, and let me move away from your fat-ass before I get struck by lightning!

But for reasons that I can’t wait to delve into as this blog unfolds, many have chosen to belive, erroneously I argue; that fat black women enjoy being obese, and that somehow we don’t experience all the negative experiences that come with being a “fat chick.”

Therefore I did the right thing by not omitting my race on my blog. In addition with wanting to share my story with the world in real-time, I also want to bust the myth that big black women are somehow super-naturally brimming over with an abundance of self-esteem and positive body image. However, I do plan to discus how I have used this stereotype for my advantage. (And that will be a whole nuther’ entry)

I am absolutely certain I am not the only obese black girl who not only wants to be thin, beautiful, toned, shapely, sexy, feminine and HOT- but  is working towards that goal.

Today is my official start day of a combination of Atkins and Excercise. My current weight: 302 pounds. Today is: April 1, 2010

I welcome you to follow me on this journey of weight loss.