Healthy Weight Loss: My Story (and Tips!)

My drivers license (obtained at age 15 and a half) states my weight as 113 pounds.

Also, I looked like this.

With a 5’5″ frame, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will never be that size again – and also that I never should be that size again. Actually, let’s just not go back to any of the qualities I possessed at the time of this photo. I mean, come on, I was wearing a puka shell necklace.

College was a tumultuous time. I frequently went up and down in weight…but mostly up. I graduated college weighing nearly 25 pounds more than my license said I did.

I moved home, jobless, with nothing to do. I started doing exercise videos or jogging in the morning, and watching Food Network all day until I cooked dinner. I learned about different foods, their benefits, and healthy ways to prepare them. I downloaded a calorie counting app to control my portions and snacking.

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Hello world!

Nothing ever comes easily.

This truth is something I’ve had to come to terms with as of late. You see, as a member of what’s been dubbed the Millennial generation, my life and its successes up until now have been metaphorically handed to me on a silver platter.  I graduated high school, I was accepted to, attended, and graduated from an overpriced public university, and I even had the opportunity to dick around for a year in Europe on said university’s dime.  All of these things were cheerfully supported along the way by a slough of teachers, advisers and my parents.

And what has it gotten me?

Nearly $20,000 in loans to be paid back starting in January, no job, and a rental car packed with an apartment’s worth of stuff.  That rental car’s eventual destination?  My worst nightmare, also known as My Parent’s House.

Though I will take some of the credit for getting this far, I’d like to put most of the blame (placing blame…one of my various negative attributes, according to the all-knowing parents) on our society.  From elementary school, we have been told this: go to school, do well, graduate from college, get a job.  One comes after the other.  Everything seemed to play out pretty well up until now; I always thought the next step would be easy.

Here is where I repeat myself: Nothing ever comes easily.

One thing I’ve realized in my 21 years of existence is that if you find something to be desirable, chances are you’re not the only one.  Remember that dreamy boy in math class with the perfect smile and cool car?  The drawings in your notebook with hearts around your initials together were probably not alone.  That boy was dreamyDozens of other pervy pubescent girls probably dreamed about holding his hand during passing period as well.  The same thing, I’m discovering, goes for jobs.  Every job that I salivate over, whether it be at a non-profit in NYC, a TV station in San Francisco, or at the embassy in Paris, is being salivated over by not just dozens, but hundreds of other Millennials also developing ulcers over the idea of moving back to their own parents home.

This truth is something I’ve had to come to terms with as of late.  But while I’m here in the in between, treading desperately in the pool of Millennial job applicants, I might as well share my experiences and accept any suggestions, empathy, or snarky remarks that the blogging community has to give!