I'll have a #5, super-sized please. Actually, no. I'll just have a salad

I've had a long, complicated relationship with my body.

Around the age of 13, I decided I needed to lose weight if I was ever going to become a famous ballerina. Like many teenage girls, I decided the best way to lose weight would be to not eat. Thus began a long struggle with an eating disorder that I managed to reign in after college. The body image problem? Not so much.

This is an aside, but I think it's funny. I had a therapist a few years back, a tough love old Jewish mother sort of therapist. She talked more than she listened, but she had good points so I didn't mind. On the subject of eating disorders, she said:

Funny that you went the anorexia route. I totally had you pegged for a bulimic. You know, because you're so excessive and have such little self-discipline or control.

Anyway, I've been this on-again, off-again, obsessive fad dieter for years. Atkins? Did it. South Beach? Uh huh. You name it, I've tried it and lost weight and gained it all back again. I've also tried cutting everything bad out of my diet. No junk food, under any circumstances. This results in drunken trips to the Belgian Fry Place at three in the morning where I eat a small country and then hate myself for it the next morning.

The problem is that I LOVE junk food. Love it. You say "deep-fried Twinkies" and some people wrinkle their noses and say "ew." I say bring it. If I were on death row, I freely admit my last meal with be a two cheeseburger extra value meal from McDonald's. Super-sized and with an apple pie, please.

A couple of weeks ago, I said enough with the dieting. I was just going to generally try to eat healthy, and if I wanted something, I could have it. The weird thing is, now that I can have junk food without feeling guilty, I don't want it.

I went out Friday night with every intention of procuring a burger and fries. I came home with an Amy's frozen dinner - brown rice and vegetables. I was perfectly happy with that. Saturday night, Curly and I stood right next to the food table at a party and I only picked a few times. Sunday night, the roommate made a delicious dinner and when everyone went back for seconds I said, "Nope, I'm fine. Thanks." and everyone said "Huh?" and I said "Yeah" and they said "Wow." Wow indeed. It's like for the first time in my life, I'm not controlled by food anymore. And the best part is, I've already lost four pounds. I'll never wear the Brazilian bikini on a beach in this country, but I may have to start prancing around my apartment in it soon.