For most of my adult life, I have dieted. I started at about age 17 by joining Weight Watchers and lost about 3.5 stone. For the first time in my life, I was slim. For about a month. And then it started creeping back on again.

I’ve tried everything. Except the cabbage soup diet. That was one step too far. I’ve probably paid tens of thousands of pounds to clubs over the years and the end result is that I’m bigger than ever. Or was.

I’ve tried the exercise route, getting up at stupid o’clock. I’ve tried eating full fat, organic, no sugar, no carbs, high protein, low sugar, the lot. I’ve tried everything. But the end result was the same. Fat.

However. There was something I was doing wrong. That I think a lot of us do wrong. I ignored the alcohol.

It’s so weird that if you put a donut in front of me, it signals pure fat. You can taste the fat. Your face gets covered in badness. Everyone says donuts are bad. Everyone avoids donuts.

But stick a glass of wine of me and I didn’t see badness. I saw no calories, no badness. My rule has always been that if you drink it, it can’t possibly stick as comes straight out the other end! Kill me now.

So for all those years I was getting fatter, there was one enemy staring me straight in the face, mocking me as I paid my fiver a week. For years. Sticking to my insides and making me fat. My lovely glass of vino.

This time is different. Instead of saving my 5-15 syns a day for a crate of wine at the weekend, I barely use them. Ok, I might treat myself to an Elderflower or a chocolate ice cream but in the grand scheme of things, I’m not being that bad at all. And for the first time ever, my fiver a week is worth it. I am consistently losing weight, I’ve lost two dress sizes in as any months and I don’t feel I’m missing out on anything at all.

#day121

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