My history of my body, Part 5

I started working again, and, for a while, I did maintain my body in a reasonable weight range. It was hard: the new company had food around a lot: breakfasts with loads of pastries and delicious treats, free lunches, snacks. We all joked about the 10 pounds we gained when we started working there.

I did gain those 10 pounds, but in the scope of all I lost, I could live with this. Sure, I couldn't wear certain clothes and I would favor clothes that hid my sins a bit more, but, overall, things remained manageable for a few years. I was busy, happy in the job, my life was chugging along.

About ten years ago, it all crumbled. No need to go into details but within a short period of time I had a job crisis that led to a new job in a new city, and I separated from my then-husband. I was living alone in an apartment in a new place. The stress was enough that I started to lose weight, which was awesome. (Perhaps not the healthiest approach, but I take what I get.) And since I was alone, I had absolute control over my diet. I gave up carbs to see what that could do, and I got down to what I now consider my ideal weight.

But I love carbs. And I love diners. And the job situation calmed down. And I fell in love with the amazing HWM. And I got happy and fat. It wasn't overnight, it wasn't in a flash, but I've gotten to this number, this number that literally makes me cry.

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