I Got Caught Cheating!
I hate cheating. I hate songs about cheaters. – Secret Lovers, As We Lay, any song that has to do with someone indulging in sexual pleasures with someone they ain’t got no business laying up with just makes me shake my head in disgust (although I’ll admit that musically, Me and Mrs. Jones is a hard one not to like).
I am irritated by people who brag about cheating – like it’s honorable and they should get some kind of award.
As if what they are doing isn’t hurting someone somewhere – wreaking emotional havoc on the lives of their families, or maybe just a husband or wife. Cheating is awful. Nothing good ever comes from it.
Somehow, someway, I found myself caught up in a nasty, shackling, sordid affair. It’s been an awful, unfulfilling, shameful and damaging experience. But it’s nothing that I can’t come back from.
Now before you throw rocks and start sharing my confession with all your friends – hear me out. I didn’t do the oochie-coochie with some man who was not my husband, (the most compassionate, loving, and romantic man in the world) or some woman for those of you who started the whole “Kimberly is now gay” rumor.
I cheated on myself. Betrayed myself. Broke my own trust. Yeah. It’s sad but true.
I knew better than to give those cookies the time of day. I mean, I already knew they were no good and just full of it (sugars and bad stuff that is). And yes, I knew the same thing about ice cream and other processed foods. But stupidly, I thought I wouldn’t, I couldn’t get caught out there dealing with the ramifications that this type of affair brings.
I promised myself that I wouldn’t get emotionally connected, and after the first time, I felt guilty and said it would never happen again, but I was only fooling myself. Before I knew it, I was cuddling up watching movies and late-night TV with sugary midnight snacks, instead of embracing the foods that truly loved me and my body.
I pretended to find fault with the good stuff, the right stuff (fruits and veggies) – ignoring, ducking, and hiding from them, hoping that they hadn’t noticed that I’d come in the grocery store and had made a quick dash around a corner to the aisles where my guilty pleasures called out to me.
Then I’d be scorned and angry when I couldn’t find my favorites in the store, wondering why all of a sudden they were missing in action, making me chase them down all around the city. They were probably laid up with some other woman! The nerve!
Last week – I came to my senses when I opened up my cabinet and saw 5, FIVE bags of potato chips. Different varieties and every single bag opened. There were plain chips, sour cream and onion chips, chili and cheese chips, cheddar cheese chips, and ridged chips.
It didn’t matter that I had produce in the fridge. Who was I kidding? The grapes, strawberries, watermelon, tomato, cucumber, and a little salad mix that were there had all started to go bad and had to be thrown out. I tried to paint the picture of a healthy, wholesome, and right relationship in the refrigerator, but lurking in the dark shadows of the pantry cabinet was the truth. I was a cheater. NO WONDER my old clothes decided to pack themselves away and leave me!
Busted, there was nothing else I could do but have a long conversation with myself – belly, butt, and thighs included. I had to confess, repent and beg myself for forgiveness. I was reminded of how much I really do love real food, and what an incredible and loving relationship we’ ve had over the years. Those foods really did do right by me and kept me pleased and satisfied.
Some of my absolute favorite meals had been comprised of fresh fruits and vegetables, (Mediterranean Chicken Wraps for example). My straying away had been stupid, foolish, and selfish as well as unnecessary.
In my efforts to restore the right relationship, I had to promise to avoid the aisles of the grocery store and shop the perimeters instead, where the REAL food is. I had to promise to eat fresh foods at EVERY meal. No more hot dogs with a side of chips and a glass of Hawaiin Punch as a meal.
I had to promise that if I do have a craving for chips, or cookies, or ice cream that I will only buy a single serving – not a large bag, package or box, making it too easy to have some now AND have some more later.
Thankfully, with these promises in place, I was willing to give myself another chance. It’s going to take some counseling and some work, but I’m going to prove to my body and my clothes that they can once again trust me. I look forward to reconciling with my size eights.