I have recently (like, last night) become aware that I have a serious forgiveness problem. I carry grudges forever. It's something I've always done. So my mother paraphrases to me in the midst of a mild emotional conflagration of yours truly, "You will be judged as you have judged others." And I said to her, "Do you really think I am any less hard on myself than I am on anybody else?"

I had already determined that Christmas Eve would be an allowed cheat day for me, but I was dreading it - because I knew I'd be fighting cravings for the next two months, just as I did after Thanksgiving.

I'm coming to the conclusion that for me (note: I said 'for me'), being fat is a 50 - 50 proposition. 50% physiological, 50% psychological. And I've turned the corner from physiological to psychological. I'm making the right WOE food choices automatically, without pain or agony. Therefore, I can only conclude that I'm into mental housecleaning territory. This kinda goes along with those emotional motives for getting/staying fat and about having to deal with (perceived) inappropriate feelings of sexuality.

There ain't no easy way. I had a traumatic experience in August of last year, and pretty much fell off the wagon so much that ever since, I have been vulnerable to any hint of a whiff of a suggestion of cheating. Some days it takes all I've got to withstand the temptation. Sometimes it's not too terribly difficult. Some days I don't withstand it at all, and realize that I am an addict, plain and simple.

It has long been my observation of myself and others that the human soul can take a tremendous amount of punishment before it decides it can't take anymore. Then, and only then, is when real change occurs - when the fear of the unknown is not as great as the pain of the known. AA calls it "hitting bottom."

I have an event that happened when I was in the first grade (yes, FIRST grade, mind you) that has haunted me for years. And I'm not really sure why. It's one of my MOST vivid memories of my childhood.

My quest for beauty stems from the fact that my grandmother's valuation of my worth was based on my looks, i.e., I was fat and that was unacceptable for a good, young Southern lady (I was 5), whose figure should match her manners and politesse--whose figure and manners and politesse should be used for the catching of a husband.

At age 15 and weighing 160 pounds, I thought I was the most humongous girl God had put on the face of the planet, but you know what? I ran across a picture of myself recently and realized that I if could had lost 20 or 30 pounds and grown a little taller, I would have been okay. I became the quintessential example of a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Welcome to Delilah's Mirror! I've used the low carb life to shed nearly 150 pounds, and while I'm not at goal, I'd like to share my story. I have discovered in my online low carb travels and in talking to people who are overweight, that my story is quite the norm and not even close to an exception.