I’ve been on a weight-loss journey over the last five months. It’s been a learning experience—some good, some bad. However, I feel like I’m finally getting to know my body for the first time in my life.

If only I could pass this knowledge onto my younger self. If only.

A former co-worker of mine explained to me a long, long time ago that, while food is something to be enjoyed, it is also essentially fuel. To that end, it makes sense to split my diet.

Yes, I can enjoy food everyday. I can gain weight, embrace my inner fat kid, and dance with the diabetes. Everyday. Sadly, I know too many people doing this.

Or, I can consider what I’ve got going on. I can plan my meals.

Will I be visiting my mom? Then I know there will be cinnamon rolls and Indian fried bread... and other goodies.

Do I have a date? Then I’ll plan on splurging on that piece of cheesecake or a butterscotch sundae with toasted pecans.

Am I going somewhere I’ve never been? Well, It’d be a crime to not sample the local cuisine.

Yet, for those days when I’m working, working out, or just doing routine things—those are the opportunities to think of food as fuel. Allot myself a certain budget of carbs, fat, and proteins, and stick to it.

Yes, seasoned grilled chicken on a bed of spinach can get somewhat boring... but there might just be something to making food less of a “something to look forward to” thing.

And, of course, moderation is key.

At this moment, I’m in a good place. I weigh under 150 pounds for the first time since middle school. I’ve developed a gym routine that I’ve managed to stick to for six weeks and counting. I’m continuing to see results.

I may even argue that I’m in the best shape of my life!

And the ladies are noticing. I see your looks when I’m shopping in Target, beautiful. Yes, I do.

Getting here was a challenge, yet not quite the challenge I expected. A good friend of mine is a diet coach, and a great accountabilibuddy. While dropping weight, I tracked inches and pounds, emailed her daily updates, and followed her mantra: Diets don’t fail. We fail our diets.

Once again for those sitting in the back row.

Diets don’t fail us. We fail our diets.

Diets work, but we have to embrace them as a lifestyle change. We have to make healthy decisions. We have to remember there are always consequences to our decisions. Always.

Our current social climate would like to think this is not true. Sometimes, people are foolish. Maybe most of the time. But I digress.

To drop the weight, I adhered to a pretty severe food list. I subscribed to a vitamin delivery plan. And I saw results. Every day. Every. Single. Day.

(Except for a few. Ask me about the French fry.)

Everyone I know started to see the results. And they ask what I’m doing. I tell them, and they reply with the usual chestnut, “Oh, I couldn’t keep doing that.”

Yes, yes you can. Again, you have to remember—the diet won’t fail you. Just don’t fail the diet. (Again, someday I’ll mention the French fry.)

So, I completed twenty-one days of low fat, low carb dieting; followed by twenty-one days of textbook keto, the latter with the goal of equalizing—minimizing losing or gaining. As a result, I’m thirty pounds lighter than I was last October. I look great. I feel great. I can eat more-or-less whatever I want.

More-or-less. Moderation is the key. Plus, the beauty of losing ⅙ of your size is, your appetite shrinks as well.

When I splurge, the small butterscotch sundae is sufficient. A quarter pound burger, or better, even less. One Pepsi a week? I got this.

I don’t need society’s portion sizes. In fact, I’m more and more shocked at society’s addiction to MOAR FOOD!

It’s no wonder the general public as a whole is getting fatter. And getting butt hurt about it. Seriously, it’s not about fat-shaming... I want to see you healthy.

A change in diet will go a long way. For everyone.

Otherwise, only the chosen few will survive.