I Didn't Eat Pizza for a Year and Here's What Happened

    Before I start this article, I'm just going to take you back to my life a little before this time last year. In the month  of April in 2015, I was in a fashion show at my school. The girls were all split up into groups and were assigned specific stores to pick out their outfit in. I was very excited for this, because I was always kind of a fashionista and now I was getting the opportunity to show everyone. So I went with my mom to the store and grabbed a whole bunch of outfits (with way too much confidence) that I loved. I went in the dressing room and from dress to dress my disappointment was rapidly growing. Things were just not fitting and if they were fitting, they made look like a baked potato trying to fit into an extra small ziplock baggy. I still remember how terrible it felt to look at myself in the mirror. In that moment, I knew that I could not keep feeling like this any more. In the dressing room I may or may not have had a meltdown where I screamed and cursed. (Just normal things like "I WILL NOT LOOK LIKE A LARGE WHALE ANYMORE"). This right here was my breaking point, and sometimes I wish it had come earlier.
     I'll have you know I did leave the store with an outfit to wear, thanks to a very kind sales girl who found me a coachella-esque outfit that actually looked like it fit. Most importantly, it actually made me feel pretty. I wish I could go back and thank her.
     Anyway, this event led to me eating super healthy and working out about three times a day. By eating healthy, I mean not letting myself have a chip, a processed snack, ice cream or any dessert, pasta and finally pizza. I let myself have it on June 27th, because it was my last day of 8th grade and that's what everyone got at lunch. (I wasn't going to remember my last lunch as me being the only one having an apple and a protein shake). After that, I never had pizza once. Pizza was the hardest thing to give up because it's the food I ate on the go and at parties. 
      Since then I have lost a little bit more than 40 pounds. I stopped looking for this magic way to shed the weight without putting in the effort, and I got to work. When you stop wishing and start working, great things can happen. Other people seem to talk about losing weight as if it was this easy thing, and that discouraged me. I would plank for two minutes straight and have to look at my fat rolls hanging down and in my head I would picture this tall skinny girl staying in shape by doing a downward dog. This was anything BUT easy. I thought "I must be doing this wrong", but I wasn't and all those twigs were lying their flat asses off. No matter what everyone tells you, its not easy and it was not meant to be. If it was easy, we would all be apart of Taylor Swifts squad. 
     I go back and forth between a 3 pound difference in my weight. Some days I go to a really fancy restaurant and say "Screw it, I'll work it off tomorrow" and other days I am extremely conscious of what I eat in ratio to how much I work out. Even though I am trying to stay in shape, I am still only human. Something I never do though is go to sleep feeling upset at myself. It does not matter what hour of the night it is, if I eat a really unhealthy dinner, I will feel guilty and either make myself run around my house for 15 minutes or do a short ab workout. At least then I will feel like there isn't a lump of ice cream sitting in my stomach when I go to bed.
        Another thing that actually helped, is I said no to a gym membership. I knew I would make excuses of why I couldn't get there or why I didn't try my hardest (I am slowly getting over my hatred of working out in front of people), and ultimately just waste my moms money. Although, months after losing the majority of my weight I joined kickboxing, because it forces me to sweat (and I love it).
       During this school year, I only lost about 8 pounds because when you get in the healthy zone, it becomes harder to lose the stubborn leftover weight. (Also, working out became harder since I have 3 hours in total of commuting each day). That just means I have to work harder for what I want, and I'm okay with that. 
       All and all, I am very proud of my 13 year old self for getting out of a vey deep hole all by herself. I wish I could have done it earlier, but everything happens for a reason. I can definitely say that I did not realize how unhappy I was back then until now (which is a good thing). Maybe next year I will be saying the same thing about today.