I was baffled. My clothes were fitting tighter, my feet were swelling up, I was not pregnant, I ate the same amount of food, and I lived an active lifestyle. I could not figure out why I seemed to be gaining weight, so I rationalized it away. “My clothes are shrinking, my weight is just re-distributing, or I am just retaining water.” I felt blah. After a few months of denying it, when I could no longer zip up my pants all the way, I finally faced it. I stood on the scale and saw 15 new pounds. In my frustration, I told my husband. “I do not know what is wrong with this food plan. I guess I will just buy bigger clothes.” I then laughed at my logic immediately, realizing I was blaming a reliable healthy eating plan for my weight. He knew I was low on energy from the extra pounds, and also had an answer. “Give yourself a break. You just stopped nursing a baby, maybe that is the reason.” I could not believe I forgot about that factor. When I nursed, I had to eat more for the baby. Now, I needed to go back to an amount of food for just me. I think rather than forgetting about this, I was just avoiding the truth. It was more convenient for me to ignore any possible responsibility on my part to prevent having to change what I was doing. Change. Uncomfortable, yet freeing. I grumbled a bit, consoled myself, and then made the change.

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