Besides the lack of exercise due to my health and injuries, much of that gain (no pun intended) was largely due to getting settled-in as as wife.
Add to that a vacation to Puerto Rico in which I enjoyed a variety of meals, drinks and desserts I had only read about (Mofongo anyone?!), I sealed the weight gain with my first over-the-top Holiday eating marathon. And I loved it. Every single bite of most every dish I cooked, ordered and was put in front of my nose, I inhaled it with absolute delight.
I blame it on one simple question: "What do you want for Dinner?"
That's it, that's all I had to ask my husband shortly after he moved in (before marriage, of course).
His big brown eyes and lashes most women would kill for, would dance with delight when giving me random requests:
"Spaghetti with meat sauce," He would shyly request.
A few weeks into our live-in relationship, he moved on to more elaborate dishes: "How about mussels?"
Me, of course, would give in to his every meal wish. I glowed with pride when he boasted about every single meal, lunch box, or early-morning breakfast that I would cook for him.
I did it, of course, out of love - but also because I wanted to prove that I was a much better wife than his previous spouse.
"I can," I thought, "run a business, then come home to clean and decorate a home, while looking pretty and loosing weight (not gaining - like most women did), and of course, cook elaborate meals...every work-day, and breakfast and lunches only on the weekend."
It was a well, I thought, thought-out plan.
I could do it.
Women in the 1950s did "it," and "I" certainly could do it.
I am, of course, a much better rendition of all these women before me; and a much better partner than his previous wife.
I could do it.
Yep - I was one overzealous newlywed wife.
But I did it. I really did it...until December of last year. Which is only four days ago, but I digress.
Going back to my original point - the first two months of my marriage were great, awesome, amazing - every single blissful thought that you can imagine, I lived it. Yep, sure did.
But ending 2010 wasn't that fabulous, and my health wasn't that great. I had, for the first time, failed as who I thought I should be: The perfect wife.
Sure, I tried to walk without my cast and do what I did for the previous two years...but it didn't work in my favor. The cast stayed much longer, and my figure - which I had proudly shrunk before and after my wedding date - was no more.
I couldn't handle it all - and by the time our one year anniversary approached, I was tired, moody, and my body, albeit bigger than a few months earlier, malnourished according to medical tests.
My thyroid needed more and different medication than the earlier part of the year, and my skin, nails and hair were showing the signs of a very unhealthy woman inside.
I was, by every imaginable definition, wearing myself down.
So come October, a vacation was just what the doctor ordered.
Unlike my Honeymoon in Kauai, I didn't pick at food and pretend I was eating it. I didn't starve myself all day and wait to dinner to eat.
I actually started with breakfast, had lunch and dinner! I tried food that seemed odd, smelled strange, and was served in a roadside shack.
Food, fitting more of a traditional Caribbean diet, didn't sit well with my body. By the end of the first day in Puerto Rico, I was so bloated that my wedding ring was tightening around my finger!
Usually, I would start a juice fast - but I didn't. Heck, I was on vacation - and I needed to get better.
My goal was to eat, sleep and have fun.
I did, and I loved it. Unfortunately, the Caribbean salt, carbs and meats that I inhaled during my ten-day stay also loved me.
Returning to California allowed me to go back to my usual light, yet unhealthy lifestyle: coffee and some sort of carb in the morning, a skipped lunch and a healthy, yet heavy dinner.
Even when I cooked some-sort of pasta dish for my husband, I made sure to simply pick at it. But the reality was, I gained weight in Puerto Rico and I did nothing to try to loose it as soon as I got back to reality.
I just made one bad decision after another one. Mostly, it was starving myself.
As we all know, starving yourself only makes your body hold on to any bit of food it comes into contact with. Not to mention, making very bad choices when you finally sit down to eat.
Add to that, the close proximity and unavoidable food-focused celebrations during the Holidays; so, I threw in the towel: "This year," I told my husband, "I am finally going to eat everything I cook and taste everything presented to me."
I did. But things change.
Before the end of the year, I was already tired of cooking pasta weekly and avoiding anything green or healthy on our dinner plates - because my "fast-food-loving" hubby didn't like it.
I began to disagree with his dinner choices, and use my weight gain as a hook to change our eating habits: "Honey, do you want me to get fat - again?" I asked before 2010 came to a screeching halt.
"You won't get fat - but you did gain weight around your tummy." he told me.
He was right - it was all in my middle, and I didn't like it. I don't like it.
So I convinced him to please go back to the type of meals that I used to cook for my parents and myself: Healthy versions of traditional and fun dishes.
I also convinced him to try smaller and healthier alternatives when dining out, which we tend to do every weekend.
He's so inspired, that he has even leafed through one of our recent cook-books gifted by a lovely newlywed foodie couple we recently met:
"Hun, maybe we should try to make the Granola for breakfast this weekend before we head out...hiking maybe?," he cheerfully suggested earlier today.
Of course, it's only the second weekend of the year. But witnessing my hubby ordering salads on two different days or eating a chicken enchilada with low-fat cheese, makes me very, very proud of him...and gives me hope that I will loose these pesky 15 pounds before summer hits.
