You ask what this is, and why I have written it as if it’s a proper noun? I shall tell you. It is because this phenomenon has plagued me and many others before me. It is the ghost that sleeps by your side each night. It is the pounds you pack on post-marriage.
So let’s begin at the…well, beginning. I was newly married and freshly relocated to the flashy city of Dubai. And I was very very free, read: jobless. So I had a routine, wake up, feel sorry about being jobless, clean, cook, gym, clean and then prepare for evening out as a couple. The key word here was gym. I had grown accustomed to being super fit and having a coveted shape that people had admired very recently on my wedding. I looked at pictures from our multiple functions and looked pleased at the results at how months of stress and no-eating had lead to such a great turnout.
Fast forward 2 months and I am working, stressed and very very busy. Days now look like: wake up, work, eat, work, eat, work, eat and then sleep. Throw in some movies and going out but all of these activities were perfectly complimented by some snack or the other. Cooking and gym began to take a back seat.
Fast forward 2 more months. The gym is back but not with the intensity of before. I don’t have time (which could be an exaggeration) and I’d rather go out and have fun then stay home and gym. Days pass and muscles loosen. But that’s ok. Because you’re happy.
Then you hit the one year mark. And by chance you go to a doctor for a regular checkup and face that horrible horrible demon, the weighing machine. And in my case, it told me exactly what I already knew. I had gained 6 pounds. The tightening of the jeans and pants had not been psychological. It had been the darn 6 pounds.
And then you begin to rue the day you had allowed Bliss eating into your life. Watching your spouse munching away and telling yourself, ‘yes i am full but one more piece of bread wouldn’t kill me’. When the pounds find their way under your skin, you wish it did kill you. Ok Ok not kill you but at least choke you a little so you had kept it down and remained at peace with your already full stomach.
The worst is the pacifying. Looking up pictures of Kim Kardashian and thinking, ‘Hey…she’s skinny and she looks damn good. I could look like that.’ Ya but she will always have trainers and photoshop experts by her side. What will I have? Relatives I meet infrequently who never miss a moment to advise ‘Beta…watch out. If you don’t take care you could become fat. Fat Beta fat’ (Suppress ear shattering screams and nod). And who can forget the waxing ladies. ‘Hai…when you were newly married you were sooo perfect. Kya hua?’ Umm…contrary to popular opinion, I did not want to be a Porker, weight loss is hard!
The phase in my life I face now is going back to my pre-wedded-bliss day and ignoring my husband’s ‘Don’t go today na, go tomorrow (to gym)’ looks. He remains fit as a fiddle as I become a caricature of myself, exaggerated at all unattractive points. So I make a plan…write down daily meals and gym schedules. The written word can never be ignored. I have falsified my own theory for 2 days now, but today seems like a good day to stick to resolutions. So let’s get those running shoes on.