Forgive Me — There Was Cheese

A story of willpower, weakness, and doing better tomorrow

I was all ready to talk about how well things were going. How I’d gotten back on track with weight loss and dropped over two pounds in the last couple of weeks. How it felt good to be in control again. How proud I was.

And then… I slipped.

If you’ve ever worked in an office, you already know about the siren song of break room snacks. If you haven’t, let me paint you a picture: you’re walking out after lunch, feeling satisfied, on track, even a little smug — when someone walks in with a box of donuts.

I told myself I’d take half. Just a bite, just a taste. But they were small, and they looked so good — golden, glazed, somehow both cozy and seductive. So I took a whole one. That was slip-up number one.

Then came the volunteer luncheon. Trays of untouched food, piles of leftovers. Sheet cake I managed to avoid — but the cheese? Never stood a chance. Cheese is one of my fatal flaws. That, and chocolate. “Cheese and chocolate are my weaknesses,” I laughed to a coworker as I snuck another handful of cubed cheddar on my way out the door. Slip-up number two.

Dinner was pizza. Dessert was Hershey’s. And if we’re being honest? I didn’t log a single thing past 2:00 p.m.

But here’s the thing: I’m not spiraling. I’m not throwing it all away. Because this isn’t a diet. This is my life.

When I first lost over 100 pounds, people asked me constantly for advice. And the biggest thing I told them — the one thing that actually mattered — was this: it can’t be a diet. It has to be your lifestyle.

Diets are rigid and short-lived. They ask for perfection, for punishment, for impossible consistency. And when they end — as they always do — the old habits creep back in. The weight comes back. The cycle begins again.

But a lifestyle gives you room. It gives you time. It gives you grace. Some days you’ll eat the donut. Some days you’ll log your meals. Some days you won’t. And that’s okay — because this is for life.

So no, yesterday wasn’t perfect. But it was honest. And today, I’ll try again. I’m not failing. I’m learning how to live — with my cravings, with my past, with my cheese and chocolate.

And if you see me someday with a cube of cheddar in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other? Forgive me.

They’re my weaknesses, you know.