Let me tell you this straight up: I hate sweating.
Not in that cute “I just went to Pilates” way. I mean full-blown red-face, breathless, collapsing-on-the-floor-after-jumping-jacks kind of hate. Exercise and I? We don’t vibe.
But last month, something wild happened. I lost 10 pounds. No gym. No burpees. No running like I’m being chased by invisible wolves.
So if you’re looking for some overused “just work out more” advice, you ain’t gonna find it here.
What you will find is honesty. And a few weird lil things that somehow worked.
Let’s go back a bit.
The Wake-Up Moment Wasn’t Dramatic
No, I didn’t break a chair or cry in a dressing room. That’s usually what people say, right? For me, it was much quieter.
I was making toast. I opened the peanut butter jar and thought, “Why do my jeans feel like sausage casing lately?”
That’s it. No tears. No dramatic music in the background. Just bread and mild discomfort.
But I’d had enough.
I Didn’t Starve Myself. Seriously.
I like food. No. I love food.
If someone told me to cut out carbs or eat boiled cabbage for 30 days, I’d fake my own disappearance.
But here’s the plot twist: I still ate all the stuff I normally eat. Just… less. And with weird tricks that tricked my brain right outta being hungry all the dang time.
Like, I started eating on tiny plates. Like child-sized, tea-party-for-one plates. Felt silly at first. But your brain legit thinks there’s more food when the plate looks full.
I swear this one change was like Jedi mind control for my appetite.
Water. Boring as Heck. But Also Magic.
I used to drink maybe one glass of water a day. Two if I was feeling extra healthy or hungover.
Then I started drinking water like my life depended on it.
First thing in the morning? Big glass. Before every meal? Glass. Mid-afternoon slump? Glass with lemon like I’m fancy.
And guess what? I wasn’t snacking as much. Half the time, I wasn’t even hungry—I was just dry as the Sahara.
Turns out, dehydration feels exactly like hunger. Sneaky little liar.
I Made My Kitchen Boring
This one lowkey changed everything.
My kitchen used to look like a snack aisle exploded. Chips, cookies, chocolate—y’know, all the good stuff.
But I got brutal. If it was tasty and I couldn’t trust myself not to inhale it at 2am, it had to go.
Now I keep the junk in places I don’t casually open when bored. Outta sight = outta mouth.
Instead, I chopped up carrots and cucumbers and put ‘em in jars. Right at eye level. So when I open the fridge in a fog, the first thing I see isn’t cheesecake, it’s something crunchy and mildly disappointing but, ya know, healthy.
I Ate Way Slower (Like… Painfully Slow)
I used to eat like someone was gonna steal my food if I blinked.
Then I tried something bizarre. I counted chews. Like a weirdo.
Every bite? 15 to 20 chews. I looked like I was trying to solve a mystery with my mouth.
But the wild thing? I got full faster. My stomach had time to catch up.
Apparently, it takes like 20 minutes for your brain to realize you’re full. So if you eat slow, you basically get full with less food.
Science-y and totally strange. But it worked.
I Didn’t Eat While Watching Netflix
This one hurt. Deeply.
I love snacks + TV. It’s like a love story.
But I made a new rule: If I wanna eat, I gotta sit at the table and stare at my food like a normal person.
No phones. No screens. Just me and my noodles.
It felt like punishment at first. But you actually notice your food when you’re not distracted. Which means you enjoy it more. And weirdly, you don’t go back for seconds just for fun.
I Played Mind Games With Cravings
Cravings don’t come gently. They show up loud and rude. Like “EAT THE DAMN COOKIE RIGHT NOW.”
But I started doing this thing I read online: when I had a craving, I waited 10 minutes.
If I still wanted it after 10, I’d eat it. No guilt.
But 8 times outta 10? The craving disappeared like a ghost. Sometimes I even forgot I had one.
It was like putting a toddler in timeout. You wait it out and boom, meltdown over.
I Got Rid of the ‘All or Nothing’ Mindset
Used to be, if I had one “bad” day, I’d say screw it and dive into a pizza spiral for 3 days.
But this time, I let go of the perfection nonsense.
One cookie doesn’t ruin a day. One bad day doesn’t ruin the week.
I just kept going. Like a messy lil tortoise. Slow, imperfect, but moving.
This was honestly the biggest shift. My brain finally stopped yelling at me for being human.
Sleep Was My Sneaky Weight Loss Buddy
Look. I love sleep more than I love brunch.
But I never realized it was helping me lose weight.
When you don’t sleep enough, your body goes all haywire and makes you hungry. For junk.
I started going to bed earlier. No phone in bed. Just sleepy music and total darkness like a vampire.
And guess what? I stopped raiding the fridge at midnight. Miracle-level behavior.
I Learned the Secret Language of Labels
You know what’s wild? “Healthy” snacks be lying through their teeth.
Stuff that says “low-fat” is often loaded with sugar. “Protein bars” are just candy in disguise.
So I learned to read the dang labels.
Not like a scientist or anything. Just basic stuff—look at sugar, portion size, and weird ingredients I can’t pronounce.
If something had 26 grams of sugar in one serving, I’d drop it like it was haunted.
I started keeping it simple. Whole foods. Stuff that didn’t come wrapped in shiny plastic with lies printed on the front.
Portions Were the Real Villain All Along
I used to eat out of the bag. That’s how I “accidentally” ate 3 servings of chips in one sitting.
Now I portion stuff out. Like a toddler’s lunch.
Handful of almonds in a ramekin? Check.
A slice of cake cut in half, then savored like it’s made of gold? Yup.
Tiny portions made me feel weirdly rich. Like, “I am treating myself… but with discipline.”
Tea Became My Nighttime Ritual
I used to finish dinner and immediately want dessert. Even if I was full.
Now, I drink tea. Not the boring kind, though. Like, vanilla cinnamon with almond milk and a sprinkle of sweetener. Tastes like a hug.
It tricks my brain into thinking dessert happened.
Honestly, this little nighttime habit helped me stop raiding the freezer for ice cream at 9:48pm.
I Took Progress Pics (But Never Showed Anyone)
Scale was being dramatic. Some days it said I gained. Rude.
But I started taking photos every week.
Same spot. Same time. Same unflattering pose.
And slowly… I noticed things. A jawline. Less puff. Pants buttoning without war crimes.
It kept me going. Even when the scale was being petty.
I Didn’t Tell a Soul at First
This one’s important.
I didn’t post about it. Didn’t ask anyone to “keep me accountable.”
This journey was just for me. Quiet. Private.
It helped me tune in instead of performing for likes or approval.
Once I saw results, sure, I shared. But in the beginning? It was sacred.
Food Wasn’t the Enemy Anymore
Before, I’d label foods. Good vs bad. Clean vs junk.
Now? Food is just food.
I stopped punishing myself for craving a cookie. I just had one. And moved on.
That mindset shift changed everything.
When I stopped being scared of food, it stopped controlling me.
So… What Did I Actually Eat?
People always ask this part. So here’s a messy list of what a day looked like:
- Morning: Eggs + avocado toast (on 1 slice, not 3).
- Mid-morning: Apple slices with peanut butter (tiny amount, not a spoonful the size of my face).
- Lunch: Salad with chickpeas, feta, olive oil + lemon dressing.
- Snack: Handful of almonds. Or Greek yogurt with berries.
- Dinner: Stir-fried veggies with tofu or chicken + small rice portion.
- After-dinner: Herbal tea or a piece of dark chocolate.
Not fancy. Not restrictive. Just… enough.
I Didn’t Do Anything Extreme. And That’s Why It Worked.
No juice cleanses. No keto madness. No “just eat celery for 10 days” stunts.
I made small tweaks. Built tiny habits. Let them stack up.
Some days I messed up. Some days I crushed it.
But I never gave up.
And a month later? 10 pounds gone. No sweat. Literally.
If You’re Thinking “Can I Do This Too?”—You Absolutely Can
No gym membership required. No expensive diet plans.
Just a lil curiosity. A sprinkle of patience. And the willingness to try weird tricks like chewing 20 times.
You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to keep showing up.
Your future self? Already cheering.
And probably wearing jeans that finally zip up without a fight.
