For as long as I can remember, my mother has been obsessed with diets. I can’t recall a time when she wasn’t watching her weight, wasn’t watching what she ate. To this day, my mother is always NOT eating something. There’s always been a food that’s banned and some special item only she could eat.
When I was little, I remember her eating foods for both breakfast and lunch that took on special significance since only she could have them, and I could only eat them if I, too, were dieting . So, in order to partake of these treats (as I perceived them to be) I watched my weight, as well. It seemed to be the thing to do, whether I needed to or not.
However, photographs of me taken during adolescence, demonstrate I didn’t need to diet. My weight was perfectly normal. I was far from fat.
Kathy in the summer of 1976--
For lunch each day my mother ate pita bread, spread with a thin layer of margarine and sprinkled with parmesan cheese. This she placed under the broiler and browned, until the cheese and butter bubbled and the bread became crisp as corn chips. With this my mother drank Tab, the original diet cola, which in the 1970s came in 16 ounce glass bottles and could be kept carbonated after opening by replacing the metal, pop-off top with a plastic one that featured a metal clamp that folded down around the neck of the bottle and held the lid in place.
For breakfast most mornings my mom ate cottage cheese toast, also, browned under the broiler. She took a pre-toasted piece of bread, covered it with cottage cheese, and sprinkled the top with Sweet ‘N Low and cinnamon. She then laid the cinnamon-ed assemblage on a steak-shaped tray and placed it under the broiler until the cottage cheese was warmed and browned. (Is it any wonder I grew up craving carbs?) The bread itself she consumed with a reverence she otherwise reserved only for religious matters, like praying neighbors would find Jesus Christ, be saved from their depravity and sin. As a non-catholic evangelical, she certainly didn’t believe in transubstantiation, but she did believe in this bread’s ability to transform her own body into one, if not God himself, at least Daddy would approve of. She, in fact, told me she didn’t diet for herself, but for my father’s benefit. Whether that meant conforming to mafia expectations regarding glamour, I don’t know.
My parents on a cruise in the 1970s--
(Ironically, this breakfast bread was browned on a tray Daddy used to burn his bets once the three-day sporting weekend was ended. When Monday Night Football had been played and the results were in, Daddy used the tray to incinerate the evidence of his bookie business—papers the FBI were after when they raided our house on a number of occasions and arrested Daddy, reading him his rights and citing the fact that he had been indicted by federal grand juries.)
Daddy with the kind of papers he would have burned--
However, my mother and I didn’t focus on issues such as this. We were more concerned with matters we ourselves were able to control—like what we did or didn’t eat. And although my mother consumed unusual foods for breakfast and lunch, she did cook normal dinners of pot roast or pasta every night, foods that she herself even ate. We gathered around the dining room table each evening, Daddy at the head, discussing who he needed in the game that night, our adding what we’d done at school, my worrying about my weight with every bite I ate.
In the diaries I kept during the 1970s, I recorded carefully what I weighed each day and often what I ate. On January 3, 1977, for example, I began a diet, noting my need to lose weight and recording the fact that I was 110 pounds. On January 8th I wrote, “Today I weighed 107 pounds. This morning I had a hard time resisting the breakfast rolls Susan made. I got mad because I couldn’t eat them.” On the 13th I indicated that I had reached my goal weight of 105 pounds but had decided to continue on my diet to see if I could lose more.
Because this kind of record-keeping went on and on for years, I’ll spare you the endless and boring details. But I learned in reviewing old journals that I ultimately wrote less about actual numbers and more about “feeling fat”—something more difficult to quantify. I know now that being fat and feeling fat are two separate things, but back then, I seemed not to appreciate that distinction.
Fortunately, I never developed a full-blown eating disorder. However, one of my sisters did. I don’t think I’ve ever blogged about this sister before, but she is three years younger than me and at 5 feet 8 inches tall weighed, at one point, as little as 75 pounds. An in-patient eating disorders facility in Arizona ultimately helped her gain weight, bringing her back from what seemed the brink of death. To this day, however, she is still staggeringly underweight. She still suffers from horribly disordered eating—though, perhaps, now not anorexia per se.
I don’t mean to suggest my mother’s diet obsession was in any direct way responsible for Susan’s sickness. I think the problem is much larger than that—more culturally ingrained in us as American women, conditioned by the fashion industry to think we need to be model-thin—that some Vogue-defined, ideal weight will make us happy—allow us to be loved.
I also don’t mean to imply that my father’s mafia affiliation caused us to crave control at any cost—forcing us to sacrifice our bodies on an altar built by mothers who were literally married to the mob. However, I DO remember clearly that during the 1970s, the then teenage daughter of the man who is now the underboss of the Pittsburgh crime family also nearly died of anorexia—whittled away her own weight while her father was in federal prison—serving his sentence in Allentown, Pennsylvania, where some Watergate offenders were incarcerated at the same time—a place my parents often visited.
Clearly, I’m not qualified to speak in any expert way about women and weight. I’m fairly confident, however, that my personal past, my mother’s obsession, and my father’s crime, impacted each of my sisters and me in ways we’ll never fully quantify or pin down in concrete terms.
Instead, I pray we’ll each remain relatively healthy now, despite the fact that our mother continues to wither away, more skeletal than ever at age 73, still married to the mob 30 years after Daddy’s death. Though we can’t control or rewrite the weighty history we share, my sisters and I can control to some degree what we’ll put in our mouths tomorrow morning, how much we exercise or over-exercise today.
As I prepare to turn 50, I’m unwilling to sacrifice my personal pound of flesh to either my mother or the mob. How’s that for heavy?
How do you manage your own weight-related woes?
Note: If you are new to my blog, you might like to know that I am writing a memoir and blogging about growing up in an organized crime family. (This post is part of that series.) To read one of my mafia-related memoir posts,”Kids Make the Best Bookies,” click here. If you are interested in reading any of my protected posts, please email me at kownroom@yahoo.com or let me know in the comments below, and I will gladly share the password with you.
Kathryn M. McCullough 
I remember my mom’s diet of milk and bananas. Your post was quite familiar to me. Minus the mob family connection. I’m glad you aren’t willing to sacrifice yourself now.
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Interesting. I had never heard of the milk and banana diet. That era must have been a strange one for weird diets. Someone needs to research that–maybe me? Thanks so much for reading. Happy Monday!
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I can’t think of a woman in my life who doesn’t want to lose weight (including the ones who really don’t need to). I wonder how many of them remember their mom’s diet foods. (I will have to inquire.) My mom used to skip breakfast and have tuna salad for lunch. With plenty of mayo. On saltine crackers. In high school, I joined her in this and always wondered why I never lost any weight. (And looking back at photos, I really didn’t need to.) As an adult, for 15 years, I relied solely on exercise to control my weight. Now that I’m on the downhill side of middle age (and have the metabolism to prove it), I have some health issues that don’t allow me to exercise like I used to and I’ve gained 50 lbs in 5 years. Still trying to reverse that trend.
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Yes, yes, strange things happen to the metabolism once we age, and I think it’s easy to gain 50 pounds in 5 years. I’ve done it, as well–I’m sorry to say. My problem is partly that I have a partner who loves to cook, so I really have to increase my exercise to compensate. (But, I guess, there are lots of worse problems one could have.)
And, yes, again about the strange diets during that era. My Sara says she and her mom ate something similar on a “diet.” What were women thinking?
Thanks for the comment. Great to hear from you!
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Oh, Kathy. I admire so much your bravery in sharing. So many bad memories of a dieting mother and her very cruel, and false, statements about my own weight swirl around in my head daily. Good for you that you aren’t sacrificing yourself for your weight anymore! With each brave post you give someone like me more courage to write about my “weighty” mother issues, also.
Hugs to you and your sisters! Surviving these issues indicates a strength in all of you that you may not even be aware you have.
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Oh, I love you, Miranda. You are such a dear. In some ways, I’ve barely begun to scratch the surface with regard to my mother issues, so there will be more to come. I’m so sorry to hear that your mother was cruel in relation to your own weight. I’d love to think that we are stronger than we think. Thanks, Sista! Hugs to you, too——————–
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My mother, now 76 and in a nursing home with early dementia, COPD and a colostomy (drank and smoked herself into much of it) still yammers on about her once-18-inch waist, and when I went out there (a 6 hr flight to reach her) to move her things said “You’re fat.”
Why, yes I am…right now. My mother was once a model and actress and prided herself on her beauty and figure. It’s nice to be pretty and thin, but not when you trash everything else you have. Attacking women about their weight is a tedious and sexy way to hurt them.
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Why are some mothers so crazy cruel. I just don’t get it. Sorry to hear your mother is still commenting on your weight and bragging about her waist. Good God, doesn’t that make you mad?
Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to comment. It means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you again soon!
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Great post. I can really relate to this because I also have a mother who is overly concerned (I won’t say obsessed) with eating and weight. I think this is a common characteristic for women out mothers’ age. (My mom is 66.) When I was 12 years old, my mom thought I was getting a little heavy and encouraged me to go on a diet. I struggled with my weight for years afterward. I really didn’t settle into a healthy weight until my late 20s, and it wasn’t until I moved to Africa that I stopped obsessively weighing myself every day. Nowadays I don’t even own a scale – it’s so liberating. And my body hasn’t changed.
I think eating disorders must be such a horrible addiction to fight. I feel for your sisters, your mom, and for you!
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I wonder if women from our mothers’ generation have more issues with this than we do. I’d like to think that things have improved, and little girls these days don’t have mothers encouraging them to diet. It’s great you don’t have a scale. We don’t have one that functions either. I mostly monitor my weight now by how my clothes fit. Thanks for reading, Heather. Hope you’ve had a great day.
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Wow. That was quite a post! I can not begin to imagine the life you had growing up (or still continue to have!) and to be able to write about it and deal with it on such a mature level is mind boggling to me. I don’t know that I would have the intestinal fortitude to face what you have faced head on. Kudos!!! And the whole weight thing—ugh. I am glad that you are not weight obsessed like others in your family. Maybe it is more weight aware??? Keep up the good work!!!
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Ah, Beth Ann, I love the notion of being “weight aware.” That’s a great way to put it–really well said. I need to remember that term.
Frankly, the only way I have come to approach my past with any degree of maturity if from years and years of therapy to help undo a lot of the damage. And, really, if I wanted to be happy, I had no choice but to look at the ugly truth and get beyond it. You would probably have more fortitude than you realize.
Thanks for reading, my friend! I so appreciate you sweet comment–truly!
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Pingback: Two Years « Woman Wielding Words
Gosh, thanks for the shout-out, Lisa. I will run over and read your post! Hugs to you, my dear!
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I agree with Beth — WOW! I had no idea you had grown up in a mob related family … that is wild! Can’t wait for the book — but it certainly does seem as if you were also gifted with unusual fortitude, spirit of adventure and independence. My mom with 8 kids never once dieted and always weighed about 118 — she was just in constant motion and although I had my own scary weight-loss schemes as a teen, I’ve been lucky to inherit her just-keep-moving attitude and don’t have to worry too much about weight stuff. Although now that I’m pushing 60, I also find I just don’t care that much if I’m a few pounds heavier than I’d like. Too bad & pass the wine. ( :
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How great for you that your mother never dieted. There’s a lot to be said for staying in motion. I tend to be a mover and groover, myself–so kudos to you in that regard.
Thanks fo much for reading, Betty, and for taking the time to leave this comment. Great to hear from you.
Pass the wine–or the Prestige–as the case may be!
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“I know now that being fat and feeling fat are two separate things…”
That bit of knowledge is golden!
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Gosh, you are so right about that. Sometimes it hard to believe I spent so much of my life not knowing that fundamental truth. Kind of sad, isn’t it? But, heck, as least I know it now!
Thanks for stopping by, Laurie. Hope you’re having a happy Monday.
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Love that last line 🙂
In my family, everyone has struggled with their weight at some point or the other, and outrageous diets and crazy bouts of exercise are something my three sisters and I are all too familiar with. I used to be skinny till i hit puberty and then i filled out a bit. Then I went off to college in Lahore and something in the air there made me so hungry! I just ate and ate and gained a lot of weight 😐 It all came off during the year before i got married (all the stress) and then Amu came along and breastfeeding proved to be a great weight-loss program! After that I have more or less stayed close to my normal weight, and though I do exercise, I don’t particularly watch what I eat….it also helps (as I keep saying) to chew slowly and take a long time over meals 🙂
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I think you are fortunate, Mun, to come from a culture that values spending time over a meal. I really need to remember that more often. I suppose most of us gained weight while at university. For so many of us, the first time away from home changes everything.
Great to hear that you don’t worry about what you eat these days. Generally, if I am exercising enough I don’t have to worry either. I just need to keep working out! Hugs to you, my dear!
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Forgot to tell you that I used to keep a food journal too during my high school years….jotted down everything I ate! I think it really helped to make me feel guilty about transgressions. It sure didn’t help that my closest friends were all thinner than me…..funny that Amu feels the same way amongst her friends. I watch, amused, as she goes through bouts of frenzied working out….it’s like history repeating itself. But I do my best to reassure her about herself, telling her she’s a strong, healthy athletic person and I’m glad to see that she is confident enough about herself to not be overly stressed. Hope it always stays that way 🙂
Hugs to you too! And lots of energy-filled good vibes 🙂
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Thanks, my friend. It’s interesting that you, too, kept track of these things. It’s hard to not compare yourself to others, especially as a teenager. But, gosh, what a huge gift to be able to pass postive messages on to Amu as she struggles with similar issues! That’s big!
At any rate, hope you have a great day. Happy eating and hugs to you—————-
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I loved reading this post, Kathy. It’s refreshingly honest, and I feel like a lot of women will be able to relate. I think my parents, Dad especially, led to my bad eating habits as a high-schooler and young adult. I was always a skinny twerp as a kid, but as I got older, my lack of self-confidence and not feeling good enough in my dad’s eyes, led to comfort eating in my room. Every year I gained more and more weight. One day, a year after my 4th child was born, I looked in the mirror and realized I did not want to continue this way. Since then I’ve lost 60 pounds and have kept it off. You’ve also helped me realize I need to be careful about how I look in my daughter’s eyes. I sure would hate to pass any of my issues down to her. Great post, Kathy, and I wish you the best!
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I, too, have issues with comfort eating. In fact, that may be my biggest weight-related down-fall. You have hit on something important. Gotta wonder how many of us do that same thing. But, gosh, how great that you have lost that 60 pounds and kept if off. Good for you, my friend! Hope your day is going well————-
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Over the past few years I’ve been up and down with my weight. Up when depressed chowing on carbs and vegging on the couch — down when I was hypomanic and I counted every calorie that went in my mouth and exercised every morning. Last July I signed up with a personal trainer once a week. Previously with group classes I’d skip sessions or drop out — but, as I hoped, having to meet someone one-on-one weekly who I was paying to keep me accountable has kept me on track. My weight has remained stable and for the most part my moods have too! Along with it I try to eat “brain” healthy foods which also support a healthy body. 2 weeks ago I got a puppy and I’ve lost 2 lbs already because my vegging on the couch has stopped too : )
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OMG–there’s nothing like a dog to help make us healthy. I love it. What kind of puppy did you get?
Also, interesting to hear that you, too, suffer from mood irregularities. I think that makes all of this so much harder. It does for me, especially since I have to take medications that tend to make me gain weight–or as my doctor says–they “tend to increase body mass.” Body mass, my ass–literally!
At any rate, congrats on losing the 2 pounds. That is awesome. Hope you’ll hug that puppy for me!
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Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier. She is 3 months old. So much energy and what a sweetie. My first dog ever (always been a cat person) but my new husband is allergic so we had to go with a ‘hypoallergenic’ doggie and I’m in love! : )
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How sweet. We have a terrier mix and a Maltese. Our Maltese is also hypoallergenic. The no-shedding is really nice when it comes to keeping the house clean.
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So eloquently put, Kathy. I can remember being on “cauliflower only” diets and other fad diets popular in the 70s. I think this is reason for my aversion to cauliflower, just like you wrote, “Is it any wonder I grew up craving carbs?”
The way that we approach food when we’re in our most formative years ends up following us for the rest of our lives, it seems. It’s a very hard obsession to break.
Hugs to you!
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Isn’t that the truth, Jackie–the way we approach food when we are young had life-long implications. I truly only in writing this post began to realize how my mother in many ways trained me to love carbs. I had never heard of the califlower diet. No wonder you dislike the stuff!
Hugs, to you, as well, my friend————–
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Another interesting insight into those early years…it is facinating to see how issues of weight affect different aspects of society.
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So glad you enjoyed looking at my past from this angle, Charles. Food is, indeed, a big issue–I suppose in a lot of cultures. Hope you are having a great day, my friend!
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As I have said before, I am overweight. I was not overweight until I was on an IVF program when I was 36. With each course of drugs I would gain 7 pounds despite the doctor telling me it was not the fault of the drugs and wasn’t it funny how all the women on the drugs said the same thing. I gave up the program after 3 years about 40 pounds heavier. The drugs also brought on early menopause and I have had difficulty losing weight ever since. After much angst I have come to accept my weight and the fact that I may never be slim again. I refuse to let it rule my life or define me. I am happy, healthy and I enjoy my life. If somebody wishes to judge me then that is their problem. I also have a sister who had an eating disorder when she was younger and she has been miserable about her weight always…what a waste of time!
Accept who you are. Not everybody is thin. Being a bit chubby is not the worst thing in the world. Be happy.
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I have to agree with you, Deb, just from what I know about you from following your blog in the past year. You are extremely busy, active, walking, traveling. That’s what matters most in terms of health, I think. We need to love ourselves exactly as we are. I personally love “chubby.” Take care, my friend, and happy eating to you!
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My grandmother was forever pressuring my sister, who is seven years my senior, to lose weight. My sister was never fat, but I remember my grandmother forcing her to do ridiculous fad diets like eat nothing but corn flakes for two weeks straight. I was lucky because I was a high energy whippet thin live wire. I recall my starving sister saying to me after yet another corn flakes dinner, “Let’s get dinner.” Then, we’d drive to Baskin Robbins and stuff ourselves with ice cream sandwiches. Girls are not born programmed to fear and loathe food, but mothers and grandmothers can give them such terrible messages that damage their self-esteem. My sister was not allowed to eat the way she liked, but I witnessed her swallowing a lot of crap that messed with her head.
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Again, more of those crazy, fad diets from the past! What were our mothers and grandmothers thinking? So sorry to hear your sister had to endure corn flakes for so long. God, bet she hates cereal these days. But, thank God, you helped her escape to the relative sanity of Baskin Robbins. I’m hungry now just thinking about it, and I just finished lunch. Damn! Take care, dear V.
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Great post. The dual purpose of the “toasting tray” blew me away. My god, a therapist could make a career out of that one alone.
I remember my mom taking me to a group called Diet Teens when I was in junior high. The only things I remember are the embarrassment of standing on the scale, feeling totally unloved and unaccepted by my mom, and that peanut butter on apple slices was an acceptable snack. Scars, I tell you, scars!
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Yeah, a therapist could make a lot of that. The weird thing is, having had years and years of therapy, I only in writing this post remembered that the same tray had been used for both. Isn’t it amazing what writing helps us realize?
So sorry to hear your mother took you to that group and that you felt so unloved. Scars, indeed, dear heart!
By the way, I remember the apple and peanut butter thing well! I ate that a lot as a freshman in college. Hugs to you, my dear!
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Cutoff denim shorts and halter top? Lookin’ pretty good there, Kathy. You definitely didn’t need to lose any weight as far as I’m concerned!
I’ve never been attracted to skinny women anyway, and the media’s (and society’s) obsession over thinness has always perplexed me. What I find sexy is a girl who is comfortable in her own skin.
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Thanks, Mark. I, too, am attracted to women who are comfortable in their own skin. But, then, you might have guessed that, my friend.
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Isn’t it funny how weight issues seem to get passed down from generation to generation, at least in a small, non-causal way.
I loved reading the descriptions of your mother’s meals. They seem wholly ludicrous in one respect, but you treated your description of them so carefully and meticulously that they made me want to reach out and hug your mother’s bony shoulders… comfort her… tell her that everything is okay.
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Oh, Dana, you are such a sweetie. Now I can’t stand the thought of the cottage cheese toast, but the pita bread still sounds pretty damn good. Now my mom wouldn’t be caught dead eating carbs, though she couldn’t weigh more than 80-85 pounds. Thanks for reading, my friend!
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Very interesting post, Kathy. I remember my mother calling herself fat and eating a very “interesting” array of foods, never sitting with us at a meal and punishing herself if she ate something “bad”…. and then it transfering to me. I remember at 10, looking in the mirror, calling my thighs fat… and praying night after night (for years) to never know how beautiful I am. Now, I pray for the opposite, as I see the effect that prayer may have had on my self acceptance.
I truly applaud your awareness and your desire to be healthy, for you.
Have a great day,
Currie
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Thanks so much, Currie. Great to hear from you. Sorry to hear your mother passed along negative messages regarding food. Ten is so young to begin hating your body. However, how great that you are now able to use prayer to turn things around for yourself. That’s a huge accomplishment and a massive move toward self acceptance. Congrats. Hope you have a great day, as well, my friend!
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“As I prepare to turn 50, I’m unwilling to sacrifice my personal pound of flesh to either my mother or the mob. How’s that for heavy?”
How’s that for POWERFUL!!
Very insightful post that will make many think – it did me. My Mom didn’t diet, that I can recall, but I do remember sisters living on tuna fish & lettuce. Ick.
Love how you’re taking your power back and naming your own price. Bravo!
MJ
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I think it’s awesome that your mom didn’t diet. But isn’t it interesting how the cultural messages still got through to your sisters–the one that told them to devrive themselves. It’s hard to escape–especially in the US.
Thanks for reading, MJ. I’m so glad this post spoke to you, my friend!
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Thank you for this. I come from a family with eating issues (my mother is a compulsive overeater and my sister has battled bulemia and anoerexia), and when I feel my thoughts tipping in the direction of obsessiveness I have to seriously keep reality in check. My family has always been all about food, its ills, its pleasures, its pain. I feel like I’ve come through unscathed but I do worry sometimes that my monster might be a dormant one. Luckily (not really, just being cheeky) I got the alcoholic gene, and probably not the eating disorder one.
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We definitely have the alcoholism gene in my family, as well. I guess I didn’t get that one, but I did get the bipolar gene. Lucky me! I think, however, that I tend to have obsessive responses to much in life–food, family, relationships. It’s something I work on–try to be aware of. Thanks so much for reading, Chrissy. I appreciate your comment.
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“As I prepare to turn 50, I’m unwilling to sacrifice my personal pound of flesh to either my mother or the mob.”
Amen.
It’s funny–I don’t have anything external to blame; I’m always turning the blame inwards toward myself. If I had more willpower, if I could do this, if I could do that…
As I prepare to turn 55, I’m unwilling to sacrifice anything more to the inner mind that judge and labels. May something deeper than our thoughts and minds inspire us to completely love ourselves, every pound and habit and circumstance… Thank you for this post, Kathy, it feels like we’re all in this together.
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Gosh, Kathy, I love the idea that we need to love ourselves as we are–embrace every pound, every inch of flesh. It’s hard to do, isn’t it? However, we are, indeed, in this together, my friend. I’m with you all the way!
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This was very good, Kathy. I think our culture bears a huge responsibility in the warped view we, and probably young women to this day, have. Although I’m sure that the fact that your mother emphasized it only made it exponentially worse for you.
I’m glad you’re able to see things clearly now.
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Thanks so much for reading, Christine. Yes, it was sort of a double duty assault. But, yes, the cultural impact is huge–really, really huge! I’m glad I see more clearly now, as well. Thank God!
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Any diets in our house were related to my dad’s diabetes and not anyone’s weight issues. I had a friend though, who became obsessed with her weight. She dieted and exercised constantly through her high school years until she was diagnosed with anorexia.
Our obsession with physical perfection is definitely dangerous territory.
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How great for you that your grew up in a home where the women weren’t obsessed about dieting. That is delightfully healthy! Sorry to hear about your friend though. Do you know if she ever recovered?
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Kathy, I respect you more than you could ever know for being so honest about a sensitive subject. Until very recently I had a similar obsession with my weight. The best I could figure was that the super thin, dancer’s body I’d been so used to as a kid set pretty impossible standards for the body I’d have to learn to love as an adult. I will never be that thin, that size, that shape ever again, and finally, I am more than accepting of that!
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Thank God you have come to the point of accepting that. Learning to accept the bodies we get as adults is never easy. This is especially true for dancers and gymnasts, from what I hear.
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Kathy, may I make a suggestion? You really, really should publish all of your blog posts in book form, so I can have a book to read…whenever I have a few minutes. Every time I visit your blog I become wrapped up completely in your stories. You are fascinating! And I really, really, REALLY think you should focus on the Kathy you are, inside the skin, because you are wonderful just the way you are and have so much wisdom and personality!
Sending you a big (((hug))).
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Oh, Joanne, how can I thank you enough for this comment? You have made my day. In fact, I am writing a memoir–using these blog posts as a format for sketching out my ideas. So you should have that book sometime in the next year or two. It just takes some time. I can’t tell you how honored I feel that you want to read my story! Thank you, my friend. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!
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Ah yes, the wonderful wacky world of dieting in the 70s. You and I have this in common, and you describe it all so well. My mother (and grandmother) dieted all the time. In hindsight, that was some weird schtuff they consumed (similar to your mother’s bread with margarine and cheese). Mom always cooked regular dinners, but she usually didn’t eat much of it. My grandmother used to make me drink tomato juice so loaded with lemon juice that I puckered for the rest of the day. lol! She was big on vinegar in water, too.
I started dieting at age 11 (which would have been 1969-1970). I wasn’t fat at all. I am thoroughly convinced I dieted my way to being overweight. My body was so confused by it all. Still is, I guess.
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Oh, gosh, the vinegar water. I had forgotten that. My aunt drank that stuff and then my mother started. Talk about vile tasting! Lordy! LOL
I also think you have a point about dieting your body into confusion about its own healthy weight. That’s a great point!
Hope you’re having a wonderful weekend, Robin!
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