Years ago, after I delivered my wonderful daughter, I found myself eating out of depression; love of course played a part, but so did broken dreams. I also felt anxious, overwhelmed, and at times hopeless.
When my daughter was three months old we would wake up in the middle of the night, and I would make myself a stack of pancakes, hoping the fatigue and loneliness would go away. Food became a sense of comfort and relief.
I had a million and one excuses as to why I couldn’t exercise. Even when I did muster the energy to exercise, I wasn’t consistent, had little faith in the process, and saw little change in my appearance. I would get frustrated and then quit, saying, “This isn’t for me” or finding other things to fill up my time.
Unfortunately, my story isn’t all that unique. Weight loss for many is a daunting task…..
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