11 months ago, I was a busy professional on top of my game. Then my husband and I decided it would be good for our family for us to go back to my hometown and for me to stay home with the baby. I agreed with a million reservations. I haven’t been home home, since I was 24 (41 now) and I spent the better part of my pre-teen and teenage life trying to get away.
Now, here I was being faced with a tough choice not only to give up at the peak of my career but also to go back to a place I promised myself I would never go back to. For the sake of our family, I agreed. But I digress. How does this relate to the struggle with rice, you say? Well, everything!
First, I am Asian. I think that in itself should pretty much give you a clear understanding of my struggles with rice! Rice in Asia is tantamount to water. It is in all three meals of the day and including desserts. Rice to me is like a drug habit. Once I start heaping it into my mouth, I can’t seem to stop. When you take it away from me, I turn into this fire-breathing red dragon ready to burn you unless you give back my bowl of rice.
You can say, where I come from, we live and breathe rice. As for me, rice the thing my physicians tell me to quit having. What??? Are they insane? Telling and Asian woman to quit her rice habit? Does a fish need water? I mean what are they talking about?
They’re right however. So now 11 months after I set foot back in my version of the Twilight Zone, I have gained a body I didn’t know I could gain…a stomach that looks like I’m 8 months pregnant and my neck disappeared altogether. I’m miserable. I’m tired all the time. I’m fat. I’m unemployed. I’m bored. I’m up to my disappearing neck in fat!
Today I saw a picture of me at a party. I look twice as big as my older siblings. I feel ugly. So right now, I’m going to make an effort and I’m resolved in doing this, to cut down on rice and carbohydrates. Add some light exercise and lose weight. I will do this. I can do this. At least I think I can.