“I think it could be a cyst,” I said to the gynecologist as I laid back on the exam table, “or I might be gluten intolerant. I’m not sure. Maybe it’s my birth control?”

As the daughter of a hypochondriac I was instructed from an early age to arrive at the doctor’s armed with a list of questions. Google makes this extremely easy, especially now that I was suffering from snug-fitting pants.

Honestly, I even purchased a pregnancy test despite the fact that I would technically need to be 7 months pregnant or the mistaken recipient of an immaculate conception.


“Do you think it could be that you gained 5 pounds?” the doctor asked back, glancing from her clipboard to my astonished face. Wait, what? Weight gain was not on my list. It was genius. Scary but genius.

I had just graduated college and was temporarily living with my sorority advisor and her 80 year old mother, Marguerite, in their guest room in Paradise Valley, AZ. My day consisted of working three jobs and grabbing whatever animals crackers and/or candy coated almonds were at my disposal. If I wasn’t working I could be found on the couch eating Weight Watchers fudge pops and drinking wine with Marguerite while we swooned over the hot Latin guy on Law & Order SVU.


When my skinny jeans started to feel tight, none of this seemed to be the cause. I mean, you could eat 17 animal crackers for 150 calories, right? Almonds are healthy. And it’s not like I wasn’t working out. I went for a hike every Saturday. However, had this denial persisted, I was a matter of months away from purchasing new pants.

While I wish I could say that this was a one-time incident, that I learned my lesson, it just happened again. Somewhere between moving, weeknight wine at the end of work and those deceiving Starbucks hummus wraps in the airport, 10 pounds happened.


Yes, this is frightening to admit. Yes, I’m fairly concerned about cute guys reading it. But it’s life, and fortunately, it’s treatable. In fact, I’m on Week 2 of Whole30 and feeling lighter and less hungover already. However, I wanted to take a moment to pinpoint the additional types of delusional thoughts that once again led me to this number on the scale.


8 Ways Girls Convince Themselves They Haven’t Gained Weight

1. Jeans shrunk.

Did your boyfriend accidentally stick your Hudson’s in the dryer? Did you suddenly outsource your laundry duties to an inept high schooler? Probably not. Your jeans only shrunk as much as the last time you washed them.

2. Muscle weighs more.

Unless you took up bodybuilding as a new pastime the spike in weight is probably not muscle. I know how it goes though because I am guilty of believing that my beefy, curvy arms are a result of hitting up Crossfit a few times during the week. In reality, the problem is that I didn’t go enough and now there is a layer of fat sitting on top of my skinny, toned arms giving the illusion that I am fitter and stronger when I am actually only capable of lifting the exact same weight. If not less.


3. Spandex still fits.

Your spandex will always fit. At 9 months pregnant your spandex will probably still fit. Like a balloon that never pops that is what it is made to do.

4. It’s my menstrual cycle.

“It’s probably because I’m starting my period next week…”
“It’s probably because I’m on my period…”
“It’s probably because I just ended my period…”
So you’re essentially suffering from period bloat the entire month? Is that it?


5. Camera adds 10 pounds.

Did it also add 10 pounds to your yoga instructor friend who lives off fresh pressed juice and chia seeds? Maybe a pound, not nine.

6. I have to pee.

Self-deception always hits a high point when I actually believe that it’s just those few poolside drinks that I consumed within the last hour that is causing the fat ring around my belly button. What’s my excuse for my thighs, hips and double chin?


7. Maybe I’ll just dye my hair…

Trust me, it’s a thing. If you ever spontaneously feel like dying your hair, pause first and ask: Why do I feel like making this change? Hair dye is often synonymous with the lazy girl’s quick fix towards self-improvement. I know, low-lights feel so much better than cutting sugar and increasing cardio, and while pink hair is still fun, pain is beauty my friends.


8. Boobs finally grew.

When my chest peaked at 34-A in 10th grade my mother solemnly swore that they would grow in college (as long as I stopped sleeping in a sports bra on my stomach). When the Freshman 15 happened, I thanked my mom’s wise words instead of the unlimited froyo in the dorm cafeteria.

Needless to say, no, you did not experience a magical growth spurt at the ripe age of 28. The froyo just found it’s way to your chest. And if you need a froyo alternative check out my Whole30 recipe for delicious Raspberry Chia Seed pudding that is for real healthy.