One of These Things Is Not Like the Other: On Tater Tots and OCD

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

I've been prepping big batches of freezer meals lately because my sweet, beautiful, kind, generous cousin has Stage IV metastatic breast cancer. Since I live half a state away, this is one of the only ways I can do something concrete to help.

(If you're so inclined, you can donate here to help with living and medical expenses for her and her 10 yr old daughter.)

Since I'm staring down marathon training, I've also been prepping them in multiples because I'll be happy to have some easy freezer meals on hand once those long runs get reaaaaaally long.

Both of us being down to earth Midwestern girls with a foodie side, I've made a variety wide range of dishes for her freezer and mine. A recent week of chilly rain had me craving something warm and homey, which of course meant comfort food hall of fame contender Tater Tot Casserole.

I had about half the stuff on hand for a single batch. I hit the store to get stuff for a triple batch.

I ended up with far more than the triple batch I was aiming for, so winning!


As I started with the tot layer, I noticed a problem.

Yes. I had to rearrange them for symmetry and retake the photo.
Because if I didn't, the world would end. Obviously.

If your brain is wired like mine, you will spot the problem right away.

If your brain is not wired like mine, you are rolling your eyes right now.

And let's be real, if you're not a Midwesterner or raised in a church social atmosphere you're probably wondering what the hell this and why anyone would want to eat it.

Figured it out yet?  No? Here's a hint...

Houston, we have a problem.

If your brain is wired like mine, you are now filing away the fact that these two distinct products exist so you will not find yourself trapped in the same OCD hell at some future date.

If your brain is not wired like mine, you are wondering how I survived this long and putting me on your mental list of easy targets in the zombies apocalypse.

It is exhausting living with a brain that turns something like this into a heart pounding, short of breath, paralyzed with indecision problem.

But it also makes us creative and resourceful. We do what we've gotta do. Even if that means an impromptu jigsaw puzzle session with frozen tater tots so the crazy people who live in our heads will shut up for a while.

It may be hard to live with, but at least we have the comfort of  knowing when the zombies come, we OCD folk will be the ones with generators and a freezer full of casseroles.

The Follweiler Cycle
This is how an OCD brain works, y'all.
And knowing is half the battle.

This post is pinned to my board Eavesdropping on the Party in my Head
This post is shared on my Facebook page ShesAlwaysWrite

Kid Friendly Upcycled Paper Bag Easter Basket Craft

Monday, April 3, 2017

When the stores fill with plastic eggs, chocolate bunnies and overpriced baskets emblazoned with the latest Disney characters, I cringe and imagine what a pastel nightmare next month's landfill layer is going to look like. I just can't bring myself to buy single use items like that.

I'm always looking for hands-on crafty stuff to do with the kids, and I compulsively hoard sturdy paper shopping bags with handles. It occurred to me therein lies the two birds / one stone solution to the Easter basket problem. I'm sharing it with y'all, because I can't be the only one who would happily slip a forgotten Easter basket into the recycling bin after hiding in the garage to eat the last of the Jelly Bellies.

Kid Friendly Upcycled Paper Bag Easter Basket Craft

1) Rummage around in the back of your pantry for some paper bags. Hopefully ones that don't smell like old Chinese takeout.

2) Prep the kids to paint. Take autism break to allow plenty of time for crucial paint bottle arranging.

3) Have the kids cut top of the bags off at the crease. Save upper sections for the handle step.

4) Nope, still not quite right...

5) Distract boychild from lack of access to paint with a cookie while explaining that his brother is autistic just like he is, and we will wait for little brother to arrange the paint bottles because it makes him happy, just like we wait for big brother arrange the kitchen stools because it makes him happy.

6) Finally start painting... *sigh* That's ok little Dude, the Easter Bunny doesn't really care if your basket is painted. You do you.

7) Try not to cry as you think about how far your sweet little guy has come and how much hard work and occupational therapy and social coaching it took for him to get to a point where he spontaneously painted a picture of his family next to a house.

8) Let the painted bags dry, preferable overnight. Try not to forget that you sat them on top of the fridge and drop another pile of stuff you needed out of the way on the wet paint.

9) Cut the handle sections so the width is just slightly smaller than the interior width of the painted bag.

10) Cut the height of the handle section so it's just shorter than the depth of the painted bag.

11) Glue time! AKA stealth squeezy sensory break time!

12) Glue the crap out of 'em so they'll hopefully hold the weight of the Easter stuff. I set the glue covered pieces in place for the kids because I'd rather not be scraping dried glue off my counter through Memorial Day. Then I have them press it all over to get good contact. I recommend letting it dry on its side overnight so they don't slide around.

13) Voila! Adorable, guilt free, customized Easter baskets! If you're feeling ambitious and looking for another sensory activity, instead of buying Easter grass you can have the kids make their own.  I always have scraps of construction paper in the craft bin and the little one loves to play with scissors. (Fine motor skills!)  You could also have them crumple or tear up tissue paper.

Any Size
The great thing is that this craft can be done with any size paper bag that suits your family's Easter traditions. A standard brown paper lunch bag is the perfect size for a reasonable amount of candy. For bags without built in handles, simply hole punch and use ribbon or yarn to create the handle. They'll still achieve a basket look, though probably won't be sturdy enough to carry it once filled.

I use fairly big bags because our Easter bunny doesn't bring much candy. He doesn't need to - we've still got at least a bag or two still left over from Halloween. What he does bring is a moderate size toy, maybe a DVD, with some token "bunny beans" (adorably dubbed so by Dude last Easter, and not an error we're keen to correct) and a Reese's egg (because I'm only human).

The things is, spring is when work starts going nuts for me after the typically quiet winter. So I go from a near total focus on the kids to spending tons of time in the office. Easter has become an opportunity to assuage some of the Working Mommy Guilt associated with my seasonal disappearance, so until I'm able to level up in my career I'll probably continue using the big bags.

I wasn't kidding about the Working Mommy guilt. Wonderful Husband has requested that I ask the Easter Bunny to take his enthusiasm down a notch next year...


2015 Paper Bag Easter Baskets

We really enjoy this project, and made them again!



2016 Paper Bag Easter Baskets

And again!  This year was extra fun, Dude really got into it. He had a whole story about how the Easter eggs he painted were secretly bombs. 

I also enjoyed seeing the evolution of Bear's bunny. It's great to compare things like this year to year when your kids are developmentally delayed, it helps me visualize the progress all the hard work and therapy has helped them make.

This paper bag Easter Basket craft is pinned to my crafting board.

Nevertheless, She Persisted

Monday, February 27, 2017

When I'm not trying to do right by my spectrum kiddos or training for the next race or pouring my dream of published authorship into Scrivener, I'm writing for my clients.

I'm looking at you, Ikea.
©2014 Jeff Stahler
As a natural born writer and a geek with half an engineering degree, a technical communications degree and a biology degree, it isn't hard to guess which writing niche I fell into. Since most copywriters come from English, marketing or journalism type backgrounds, writers who can, for example, converse with a product design engineer and translate what she said into functional marketing copy, just aren't all that common.

I've been called "the best technical writer I ever met" by a senior marketing manager at an enormous global industrial firm. I am often sent resume referrals for C level executives, by C level executives. I know I'm good at my job. It took me almost 20 years of repeatedly being told that to catch on, but I know it now in a way the anxiety can't penetrate.


Every time a new medical or industrial client comes my way with a project, I hesitate.

Even after 20+ years of always understanding the material, and generally knocking it out of the park, I hesitate.

It just happened again.  I was offered a project writing a case study on a successful custom solution to a highly technical industrial process. And I hesitated. Because no matter how skilled I am, I can't stop wondering...what if this is the time it's too complicated for me to learn enough on the fly about a technology I haven't heard of and I can't do my job?

And, as happens every. single. time.... I opened the background materials and grasped the crux of the piece in less time than it takes to reheat my forgotten coffee.

I have thought about this at length.

I do think my anxiety disorder plays a part in this.  It plays a part in everything.

But after so many years being a woman in a technical job, I have become certain there is more going on here. Recent conversations with several women executives have reinforced my theory. (Real talk... we commiserated and had a good laugh at the male ego stroking and elevated performance level we have to maintain as a matter of basic professional survival.)

One the commercial side of my business, I work with mostly technical material from industrial firms.

On the resume side of my business, I work with mostly IT professionals, mid-upper level corporate managers, directors and C-suite executives.

Which is to say, I work with mostly men.

Tina the Technical Writer is my spirit animal
© 2012 Scott Adams, Inc.
As such, I have become accustomed to spending the early stages of any project convincing them I am qualified to even be speaking to them on the topic at hand. And to having them argue with many of my suggestions and decisions as projects go on, even on details squarely within my area of expertise.

It only recently occurred to me... after a rare and wonderful meeting with a group of all women managers in which we got right to work and everyone's professional competence was assumed up front...  that the average male consultant, having been referred by a mutual colleague as a subject matter expert who can solve the problem at hand, would not have to exert the kind of effort I do to establish credibility.

Several recent experiences also made me realize that men probably don't have to defend every decision they make when they were hired to make those decisions in the first place.

In contrast, my most recent experiences with women executives include being told they appreciate my professionalism, being told they were reassured by my obvious skill and competence, and being thanked for the great work I did.

I don't know why I'm only seeing the pattern now. Maybe because the landscape has changed enough over 20 years I've been able to work with more women. Maybe because I just watched an incompetent, narcissistic Twitter troll be elected over the most qualified candidate in history. Maybe because I just watched a woman get shut down trying to speak in the Senate when four men were allowed to read the exact. same. thing.

What I do know is that I need to stop reflexively questioning my own expertise simply because society has conditioned my clients to do so. I need to stop engaging in the emotionally undermining exercise of re-convincing myself I'm qualified to do my own job when it was never a real question to begin with.

I thought about it a lot, and decided how I'm going to move forward since having this epiphany.

I will keep on supporting every girls and women in STEM program I can find. Because the world can only benefit from more women working with each other at this level.

I will keep on supporting my peers as we roll our eyes at the systemic professional barriers we have to climb for less money and less recognition. Because we may know our own strength, but it sure is nice to share the burden once in a while with someone else who sees it for what it is.

I will keep on  having the audacity to be a woman who is really goddamn good at my job in a male dominated field.

Sensory Friendly Banana Bread Hack

Sunday, February 12, 2017

One of the most enduring lessons I learned in my Grandma's farm kitchen is that brown bananas = banana bread. Period. You don't waste them. You make them into something delicious.

I personally have expanded that to include scones and smoothies. But yeah, no. You don't throw away brown bananas. (And I secretly judge people who do.)

But. The problem with banana bread... especially my Grandma's banana bread... are the gooey chunks of banana throughout the bread, and the slimy wet ridge along the top.  (The woman could fry the hell out of a squirrel, but her baking left something to be desired.)

The old way.

I remember loving the bread's taste, yet trying not to gag on the bits that made the texture so very wrong.

Another issue is that a day later, quick breads start to get kind of wet and weird on the top crust and I just can't.

Flash forward a couple of decades, and I'm making banana bread for my kiddos. And my food texture sensory issues combined with their food texture sensory issues... something had to give.

I summoned my inner Alton Brown. I lit a candle at my shrine to Cook's Illustrated. I got to work.

There were three problems to solve. The first was easy. The second took some tinkering. The third was just application of an established concept. All solutions were simple and transferable to pretty much any quick bread recipe.

(Worth noting I have yet to sort out a gluten free banana bread my textural issues can choke down, but the first hack will work the same regardless of your recipe.  The second is generally addressed by most GF recipes due to the challenges inherent to that kind of baking. The third came from a GF recipe to begin with.)


After trying a few, I settled on an old school recipe from a solid, baseline source that's done me right since I first had my culinary monkey-touch-monolith moment. I even had to buy the cookbook again, the first one fell apart from use.

I found the same *recipe online here: BHG Banana Bread
*I find their suggestion of 5 bananas to get that quantity is insane. I rarely need more than 3.

Pretty much any recipe will do. They all seem to have the same general textural problems.

PROBLEM 1: Gooey Chunks

I don't know if I've ever seen a banana bread recipe that didn't suggest mashing the banana with a fork. The resulting texture is uneven, and affects the bread.

My first attempting at fixing this was a potato masher. Little to no improvement.

The solution? Stick blender! (AKA How did I ever survive without this miraculous tool?)

Just chuck all the wet ingredients (remember, sugar counts) into a bowl...

Seriously. Chuck 'em in whole.

...and blitz!
Noise reduction headphones optional

The resulting emulsion is perfectly smooth, and gives the bread a uniform texture devoid of those nasty, slimy, chunky bits.

I also find this emulsion easier to incorporate in general, which means less risk of overmixing the batter, which means less gluten development, which means less random air bubbles, which means more uniform overall texture... all good things.

PROBLEM 2: Unbaked Ridge

I think the extent of this is affected by individual ovens. But in all the ovens I've used, I've yet to see a loaf of quick bread bake up without it being at least a minor factor.

Simply extending the baking time didn't work - the edges of the bread burned before the top cooked through. I thought about the pan, but I already used Pyrex instead of metal so that wouldn't help.

But, that got me thinking... having been reluctantly, medically gluten free for a few years now, I've had plenty of time for some epic gluten free baking fails. And time to do some reading to figure out why.

What I learned is that proteins in GF baked goods take longer to set, which is why they need to be baked in ceramic dishes at lower temps for longer, so the edges are protected while the centers have a chance to coast to completion.

I decided to apply a version of this technique to the unbaked top problem. It worked like a charm.

1) Bake the bread at the usual temp (generally 350) for 5-10 minutes shy of the bake time specified in the recipe.

2) Reduce the oven temp by 10 degrees. At this point I check in 10 minutes, then in 5-10 min intervals, depending on how it's doing. It rarely takes more than an additional 20ish minutes past the recipe time.  Once it gets close to done the toothpicks comes out to start checking for doneness. Before it's close you can still see how wet it is.

3) Sometimes, if the top is really being stubborn but the edges are going past done, I turn off the oven and let it coast a little while longer. That does the trick.

In for ~20 extra minutes at a lower temp - the top finished and the crust did not burn

One thing I particularly like about this technique is that it addresses the x factor of variable moisture content and slight differences in banana quantity from loaf to loaf. If there's a little too much moisture from the fruit in a particular batch, finishing the baking off this way has a much greater chance of baking off the excess and giving you a good result.

PROBLEM 3: Damp, Sticky Top Crust

Once a loaf of quick bread has cooled, the top goes from delightful to damp and sticky in a hurry.  I noticed this is especially true of GF bakes, and one day mused that must be why a particular muffin recipe called for what seemed to me an incongruous sugar topping.

Cut to me making my next batch of banana bread... light bulb moment. Gave it a shot.

Just sprinkle the top of the loaf with a raw sugar (I've used turbinado and demerara). I do a generous sprinkling, it makes for a nice crisp top.

Much more than this and it becomes tricky to slice.

Yes, I know sugar is hygroscopic and of course it doesn't stay as shatteringly crisp as when it's fresh from the oven. But the next day (a loaf of banana bread rarely lasts more than 24 hours around here), the top is still reliably pleasant, often still on the crisp side.

These simple hacks have become routine when I bake any quick bread. (Though, the stick blitz step isn't necessary for something like pumpkin or applesauce bread.) I no longer have to throw away leftover bread. It's better from the start and stays better until it's gone... which is faster than ever.

Do you have any sensory friendly recipe hacks that help your family? I would love to learn about them!

On a Scale of 1 to Me: Super Bowl Edition

Tuesday, February 7, 2017

An illustration of the range of human responses to hosting half a dozen friends for the Super Bowl.

I think we can all agree that the fact I can laugh at myself is what's important here : D

The Secret to My Success

Monday, January 23, 2017

© Winterling | Dreamstime Stock Photos
When people learn I lost 140 pounds, the next words out of their mouth are almost invariably "What's your secret?!"

The thing is, as I noted here, we all know there's no secret.

This being the number one thing I hear has made me notice who is asking. It has made me ponder their motivations for asking when they already know the answer.

If they want me to be real, I will absolutely be real. But most of them don't.

After hearing this hundreds of times and noting clear differences in intent, I have found  that people tend to be looking for one of three things.

Small Talk
Most people ask the secret to my weight loss as casually as remarking on the weather. They don't want or expect a real answer.

I could go on for some time about the fact body weight is considered a topic subject to casual discussion, but that's a rant for another day. Suffice it to say I recognize it is a factor and respond accordingly.

These insincere inquiries are easy. I can smile and say "old fashioned hard work" and they're satisfied. The generic social obligation has been met.

Studies indicate up to 50% of women are dieting at any given time. Which means pretty much everyone knows it's hard to lose weight.

These folks are seeking reassurance they are not alone. They seem comforted to hear it was - and is - incredibly difficult, their experience is universal, and there is nothing special about me.

Some of them need to hear this level of success is accessible to anyone who wants it badly enough. They need to know the intensity of their desire can pull them through.

But most seem to take a different tack. Hearing how hard it is, the kind of time and effort it requires, and that biology has put the odds firmly against success, removes an emotional burden.

It helps them accept a lack of progress isn't necessarily their fault.

It helps them to hear from someone who lived it that it is perfectly reasonable to put off their desire to tackle this while health or family or job pressures are too great.

And, it helps some accept there is nothing wrong with not choosing this path at all.

Whether my story helps shine a light on possibility or absolves someone of their misplaced guilt, I am glad my willingness to be honest about how hard this is helps others feel better about themselves.

The third group is special. I can usually spot them, because they were me. They are scared, they are determined, they are uncertain. They need help believing they can do it.
August 2004
253 lbs / 22 lbs lost

With these, whenever possible, I take my time. To these, I tell the emotional truth.

Sometimes they look at me, in my current incarnation, with skepticism. I show them the closest thing I have to a "before" picture to reassure them I'm not some skinny bitch blowing smoke up their ass.

They tell me they are exhausted. I tell them I was too. They tell me they are overwhelmed. I tell them I was too.

Then I tell them the real secrets to getting here. I give them the tools they need to keep hope alive.

Baby steps.
No change is too small. The smaller the change, the easier it is to assimilate. Once it feels easy, once it is no longer a change but a normal part of your life, decide what the next change will be. Keep doing that.

Forget deadlines.
Sustainable changes made in incremental steps take time to show results. Creating a new normal takes time. Don't hold yourself to arbitrary deadlines. You're working on a better forever.

Forgive yourself for being human.
One bad day doesn't mean give up. It doesn't even mean begin again. It just means we had one bad day. Don't beat yourself up. Look head. Move on.

Be kind to yourself.
This is the foundational secret that holds up all the rest. Changing how we think about ourselves is the hardest thing to do. Especially when immersed a society constantly telling us being overweight makes us less than.

You are not weak. You are not lazy. You are not failing.
You are strong. You are determined. You are valuable. You are worth it.

Most people are surprised. And intrigued. They expect me to talk about nuts and bolts. They expect a list of external factors like calorie counting apps and gym memberships.

But those aren't the secrets to success. They are merely tools we use to help us leverage the real secrets.

If there's one thing I want people to know, it's that this journey doesn't start with a fad diet and a FitBit.

It starts with believing you're worth taking care of. It starts with believing you deserve to feel good in your own skin. It starts with you believing in you.

That is the secret to my success. Changing how I felt about me. Giving myself permission to stumble. Believing that no step is too small, as long as it keeps me moving forward.

Part 2 in a (TBD, we'll see where the brain dump takes me) Part weight loss series
Read Part 1: 5 Things Never to Say To Someone Who Lost a Lot of Weight

Soup's On

Thursday, January 19, 2017

If you were eavesdropping on the party in my head this week, it would have gone something like this...

Winter Comfort Food Craving Me: I need tomato soup!

Gluten Makes Me Sick Me: *discovers all the store soups contain wheat*

Foodie Me: I'll make tomato soup!

OCD Me: I'll make ALL THE TOMATO SOUP EVER. And freeze it! Because why solve a problem for today when you can solve it for 37 other days in the indeterminate future?!?!

Foodie Me: *discovers chicken stock supply in freezer is too low to make all the soup*



Reasonable Me: *rolls eyes* You were saying?

Foodie Me: *dances around* IMMA MAKE. ALL. THE. STOCK!!

Anxiety Me: OMG!! What if we don't have enough stock for the recipe??

Reasonable Me: How much do we need?

Foodie Me: About a quart.

Reasonable Me: We're making 3 gallons.

Anxiety Me: OMG!! What if we don't have enough containers to freeze it all?!?!

Reasonable Me: Did you even take your meds today?

Winter Comfort Food Craving Me: Was there going to be soup at some point?

Foodie Me, 10 hours later: SOUP, BITCHEZ.


Reasonable Me: OFFS. Prepping for the zombie apocalypse, are we?


Winter Comfort Food Craving Me: Sooo... can I eat now?

Soup so good it makes you not even notice the sad, gluten free faux sandwich!

5 Things Never to Say to Someone Who Lost a Lot of Weight

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

© Kristo - Gothard Hunor | Dreamstime Stock Photos
Significant weight loss is a unique and personal journey. We share struggles and goals, but at the end of the day we each have our own reasons powerful enough to drive us through the blood, sweat, tears and years it took to reclaim our bodies, our health, our lives.

As individual as our stories are, responses from friends, family and even strangers are surprisingly uniform, and often unintentionally hurtful.

Here are 5 things you should never say to someone who lost a lot of weight.

  1. When did you have the surgery?

I continue to be astonished this is often the first question new acquaintances ask when they find out I lost 140 pounds.

The notion that no one can lose a lot of weight without bariatric surgery is so pervasive that my insurance company actually insisted my doctor provide written documentation of my weight loss proving that I didn't have it. So, I understand why the average person makes the same assumption.

However. Unless you are a doctor and need that detail of their medical history, it doesn't matter how someone lost the weight. Asking is an unbelievable invasion of privacy. Not just medical privacy, but delving into deeply personal, often traumatic issues.

Maybe they have an eating disorder. Maybe they are diabetic. Maybe they had cancer. Maybe they were terrified of dying young like a parent. Maybe they gained the weight as an emotional barrier because of PTSD from childhood sexual abuse and finally got enough therapy to face losing that physical shield.

Asking when someone had a weight loss surgery they may or may not have had is asking them to revisit emotional triggers you know nothing about.

Personally... I find the immediate assumption I could only have had surgery insulting. I spent 12 years working my ass off. Literally.

Success stories are rare, and obviously people ask because they are eager to express supportive curiosity. That is lovely, and we welcome the positivity because our journey is ongoing. But rather than asking when we had surgery... just ask "How long did it take?"  That respects the privacy of any medical decisions we made while showing that no matter how we lost it, you recognize we must have dedicated ourselves to the effort for a very long time.

2.What's your secret?!

They know there's no secret. Everyone knows there's no secret. It is hard work. It is dedication. It is, if the weight loss is to be maintained, a permanent lifestyle change we will wrestle with day in and day out for the rest of our lives.

I realize this question is usually meant more like a "how are you" - a socially generic expression of politely supportive inquiry without the expectation of an honest answer.

In my experience, people are generally looking for my answer to support their confirmation bias regarding their own weight loss efforts. While I can and have engaged in depth with this in a rewarding way, I know that most of the time I am supposed to smile and answer along the lines of "there is no secret, just hard work."

Rather than obligating us to the 7,482nd recitation of this faux conversation, why not just express the general sentiment behind it?  "Wow, that must have taken a lot of work, good for you!" 

Then, all we have to say is a heartfelt "Thank you!"

3. Don't you miss your favorite foods?

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, YES. Of course we miss our favorite foods. Thank you for rubbing it in. At a party. While we watch you eat them.

This is another case where expressing the conceptual sentiment behind the question would be a lot less insensitive. "You must have made some really challenging long term changes to your eating habits. Good for you!"

Unless you live it, there is no way to explain what it takes to fight the urge to indulge in our favorite foods. One comment regarding the food we eat may make the emotional difference between winning and losing the battle on any given day. If you feel the need to say something, make it supportive.

4. Call me next time you work out! I want to start exercising and need someone to make sure I stick with it.

I used to fall for this. A lot. I spent years believing people who said they wanted me to help motivate them to exercise.

In the early part of my journey, I felt guilty for failing to help them because I wasn't yet clear they needed to help themselves.

In the middle of my journey, I felt frustration that they were asking me to make a major temporal, logistical and emotional investment in them when I was struggling to keep myself on the right path.

Now, in the maintenance phase of my journey, I feel annoyance that they have no idea what they are asking. Which is for me to trade something like my time slot allotted for a 10 mile run that's planned in a training schedule meticulously arranged around an upcoming race (and work and child care)...  for a 30 minute mosey around the local park trail. Usually followed by peer pressure to go drink twice the calories we just burned in Starbucks.

The thing is, if you ever decide you're ready, you won't need someone to make sure you stick with it. It will come from soul searching. It will come from fierce desire. It will come from inside.

If you do need an outside boost - and we all do sometimes - take an instructor led class or hire a personal trainer. Please don't put someone on the spot who is probably already using every ounce of emotional energy they have to keep themselves on track.

It makes perfect sense to talk about your own fitness goals with someone who has achieved theirs. If you want their guidance because you respect the work they put into adopting a healthy lifestyle, it's more realistic to ask something like "Do you have any tips to help me get started?"

5. Aren't you afraid you'll gain it all back?

The first time someone asked me this question, I was recovering from the last of my weight loss skin removal surgeries. I literally still had stitches in my body. I was flabbergasted.

Statistically, the success rate for weight loss rounds down to zero. Study after study has shown this to be so.  Science has determined that body chemistry remains in an altered state after weight loss. The effect is that our bodies are chronically trying to force us to regain the weight.

This is why it isn't about willpower. It's about biology. And for reasons unknown, this particular biological process is actively waging war against us.  Because of this, long term success stories are so rare there is a national database that tracks them.

We have all dieted, lost some weight, and then been embarrassed to gain it back.  I went through that cycle myself more times than I care to count, back when I still thought diet programs were a thing that could work.

So, YES. I am afraid. Of course I am afraid. My odds of keeping it off approach zero. We all know it.

But here's the thing. How about not asking that after I've been at my goal weight for all of 5 minutes? How about not asking that while I'm recovering from a series of surgeries that cost me my meager retirement fund? How about just not asking that??

Back before I did the emotional work that enabled me to make the drastic, permanent lifestyle changes necessary for this I was just as at risk as the next 99.98% of people of gaining it back.

But I made the sacrifices. I did the therapy. I changed every single thing about the way I was living my life. It took me 2 years to decide I was even ready to try. Because the thing is, those of us who choose this? We first have to accept that it's forever. We have to accept that we must wake up every day for the rest of our lives and make an active choice to continue living this new life. That, or accept the weight back.

Am I afraid? Yes. Do I think my odds of being one of the statistical outliers are good? YES. So much so that I even registered myself for the national tracking database.

There is no way to salvage this question. Don't ask it. Just be supportive. We all know the odds. Let your friend enjoy their success for as long as they can fight for it.

This post is Part 1 in a TBD Part weight loss series
Read Part 2 : The Secret to My Success