The great irony of this piece is the punch-line: I weighed myself.
Ever hear of orthorexia? It’s when someone develops an unhealthy fixation on healthy foods. Total first-world problem, I get it, but I think that might be me.
It all started after I had my second child and got really skinny. Like, scary skinny. As in, my friends were starting to do interventions and call me up to encourage me to have extra desserts.
Despite the fact that I looked emaciated at 122 pounds (visualize the veiny arms, bony chest and somewhat Karen Carpenter-esque smile) I was so completely psyched to weigh what I did in high school that I chalked it up to jealously.
Looking back on those days it wasn’t really that hard to be skinny. Between the breastfeeding, the two tiny children, and the postpartum depression-fueled anxiety, it was pretty easy to get thin. Then disaster struck: I got happy and started to gain some weight … Click here to read the rest of the article.