4 days ago I embarked on a 9 hour car ride to my 2nd favorite state, Tennessee. There, my boyfriend and I visited his grandparents as we trekked through the Smokey Mountains, explored the Pigeon Forge area, and gorged ourselves on true Southern cooking and Cracker Barrel delicacies. I had been looking forward to this trip for ages, and am so glad that I could reconnect with MamMaw, PapPaw, and the blue jays that frequent their front porch.
But, with these wonderful memories of family fun comes the nagging reality of disappointment. Yes, I did eat macaroni with the butteriest biscuits I’ve ever consumed. Sure, my pasta was brimming with cheese and creamy sauces. And of course my BBQ was every bit as fatty and delicious as it should be. While I’m trying to become healthier, I don’t want to limit myself to strictly rabbit food. Heck, even rabbits would like a banana pudding milkshake every once in a while.
So instead of being disappointed in my eating choices now that I’m back home (and thinking without a buttery fog surrounding my brain) and away from the tempting excuse of vaccation, I’m going to own up to my actions.
I did not make good food choices.
I recognized this while I was chowing down on fried chicken.
But I’m still here and still ready to change in moderation. If I eat like this once or twice a summer, that is quite alright with me.
I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m trying to justify my actions, but I also hope it does sound that way. I need to be okay with myself and that means accepting my actions and not tearing myself down when I do something a little counterproductive.