Dear Metabolism,

I’m going to be honest with you. I thought things were going fine. I could eat what I wanted, within reason, and you would keep my body more or less acceptable looking. We needed each other. We were disappointed in one another when we had a lapse in communication amidst Chipotle or Tricia’s Raspberry Black Bean Dip. But we kept strong.


That is, until I roll over one morning to find you GONE. NOT THERE. ABSENT FROM MY LIFE. All that was left of you was a quickly-scratched goodbye notifying me of your escape, located conveniently on my ABS AND THIGHS. How are you going to just leave me helpless? I mean, what do you expect me to do without you? I have tried 100-calorie snacks. Yogurt as my lunch. For the love of all things holy and good, I HAVE TRIED WORKING OUT. But I just can’t replace you. I see you everywhere. Skinny girls at the rec. Skinny girls at work. I am pretty sure you have a hand in keeping every pound my mother eats off her body…

And yet, here I am, my empty life devoid of a metabolism with average adolescent rate. Growing by the minute. Stuffing my face with carrots instead of KitKats, and still failing.

Why can’t I quit you?

Please come back to me soon. The rec is a cold, dark place. I promise to swear off Chipotle. For a while….