I want to wear the clothes I want to wear, not the ones I’m supposed to. I want to spend my nights doing what I choose, not going to the gym and then listening to Brian’s pointed remarks about my body while I pick at my frozen diet entree and stare miserably at the table. I want to live now, have fun and do fun things now, not wait for some distant, skinnier future that may never come. What if I wake up one day at fifty and realize I spent my youth on diet shakes and broth cleanses for nothing? What if I spent the rest of my years being criticized by Brian and gym trainers and my sister, all
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