I’m sure you’re on the seat of your chair to hear how the 3 day face lift diet worked, right?
Well, scroll down and you may be disappointed. There are no after pictures. That can mean one of three things. Either (1) I didn’t notice a difference or (2) I was too lazy to take a picture or (3) the salmon and leafy green vegetables with lemon got the best of me and my gag reflex and I did not last the full three days (which I would have bet on, frankly.) Knowing my failure to follow through and love for carbs, I fully expected it to be the latter.
Surprisingly, though, it is not.
I made it the full three days (I KNOW) and at the end, my stomach was growling, I barely had enough energy to work out, was still picking blueberries out of my teeth, made a gazillion trips to the bathroom from all the water, and my pee smelled weird from asparagus. But my face, seemed unaffected. Puffiness and unwelcome lines- still intact.
Though a part of me certainly hoped this was the magic trick and that I would look like I did when Jersey Shore was just a vacation spot for people that can’t afford to go to The Hampton’s, and not a trashy TV show that my husband secretly watches, I did not expect it to make a change.
I’ve become aware that there is no magic pill and that age and weight gain happens. The older you get, the more rigid you have to be. I had become poorly habitual in my diet. What I did want to use it as was a springboard to making changes and taking chances… in my diet. Or so I thought.
Though I didn’t notice a difference in my appearance, I did feel accomplished, in a weird way. As my family ate turkey burgers and french fries and I chomped on blueberries, lettuce, and fish, I felt like I was doing something proactive. I didn’t sneak one fry or even have a cup of coffee in the morning! I didn’t cheat. And it became clear to me that I was doing something for ME and I owed it to myself to follow through.
Lately I feel like I cheat myself out of a lot, not just in my diet. I sabotage. I can come up with an excuse to get out of pretty much anything and convince myself (and others) that it’s the real reason. When really, fear and the idea of failing, disappointing others or ruffling feathers is the reason I don’t take the chance.
The slightest stumbling block can send me in a tailspin. And lately, I allow it to. I throw my proverbial hands up in the air and say screw it and go back to my destructive, selfless habits. Habits that have made me feel sad, lonely, and unworthy of pretty much anything positive.
My bad habits had spread further than my diet. They’ve become a way of life. I know better than to complain about my weight when I’m eating like crap and not exercising… so why do I complain about other things in my life, when I’m not willing to make changes and bitch that things stay the same?
It’s so fucking cliche, but you are in charge of your destiny and if you want things to change, you need to make change happen. Maybe eating salmon for three days won’t turn back time on your face, but it was worth a try and it turned on another light, of sorts. I’m trying. I’m trying to put myself out here again and it’s not easy, but I want to know that I at least gave myself a chance. Fuck the naysayers.