When Is Enough, Enough?

Sorry to pop back in after a long absence just to post something negative, but sometimes that’s how it rolls, right? I’ve gained all the weight back that I’d lost – I’m back up to 165. I won’t bother going into how it happened. I’d say that everyone already knows and has probably been through it a time or twenty. I think the question I’m having these days is this – why bother? Honestly, why bother? To attempt to get myself motivated I went around and started reading all the great blogs I’d been reading before, and you know what? Pretty much all of the people writing those blogs have also gained back some or all of the weight they lost. There’s still a few people out there who are on an amazing trajectory of weight loss, still feeling great and super motivated. But overall, let’s be honest – there’s a dearth of true weight success out there. And I for one am starting to question the point of it all. Food in our society is so messed up that it sometimes feels like there’s no way out. Try this way of eating, try that – nothing works! You have to either cut out major food groups or whittle your calories down to nothing! I absolutely believe that paleo/ primal eating works – but that basically means giving up your social life so you’re not constantly faced with food you’re not supposed to eat. It’s ridiculous. The whole system is set up for us to fail. What we’re actually consuming is hidden from us. Even when we eat just meat and veggies, it’s a minefield! That healthy broccoli? Genetically engineered and covered in chemicals! That lean chicken breast? Pumped full of antibiotics, genetically engineered, beak clipped, overcrowded living spaces, fed only corn and living in piles of its own poop! What about eating only organically? Goodbye entire paycheck! We put so much effort into it. We think about it all the time. We curse our bodies when they don’t look right and our minds when they get tired and can’t keep up with the unrealistic expectations. Choice by choice by choice. I’m just so tired of it. So, so over it. Help me out here, peeps. Remind me why we bother. These days I’m feeling pretty ok with my fat pants. I have a job, an amazing husband, and a good life. Why do I give a rip what size my clothing tag says? Why can’t I just stop trying to “improve”? Why can't I just be happy with how I am? When is it enough?