My mom gave me some interesting insight recently. She read this blog o' mine and said that something I mentioned earlier was incorrect. I was falsely saying that the weight she's been carrying around with her is baby weight, from when I was born. But as it turns out, it's not baby weight ... it's happy weight. She, like me, eats when she's happy.

See, I moved to California when I was 18 and for the first time in my life found myself really happy. I was in a relationship with a boy who couldn't have cared less what my body looked like, I had amazing friends, I felt good about myself, and I was just happy with everything in general. And this was when I started gaining weight.

The problem comes into the picture when we start talking about losing the weight though. Sure, it started off as happy weight, but it's continued as unhappy weight. Finding myself miserable with the way that I looked, I just continued eating and never exercising. The happy weight turned into sad weight, which just ended up with more sad weight on top of it.

But now here I am, miserable and doing something about it. So something has changed, right? I've improved at least a little, right?