The one when you cheat on your first cheat meal – aka a letter to say sorry for being a player to my stomach


Dear Stomach,

I’m sorry that is all.

What can I say. I’m sorry that all week I’ve promised you a cheat meal of deliciousness, a cheat meal with #allthefeels – burger, chips, AND ice cream, but now I’ve gone and ruined it for you and despite the fact that you were so good all week in anticipation of your cheat, you must now wait in a depressed state of “wtf, why is she doing this to me, why can’t she just love me?” sadness for another whole week.

I know nothing will change what I’ve done, but please let’s sit for a minute so I can explain.

Picture this: Not one to miss a night of potential funness out, I was excited to go out to the casino with everyone else. Not drinking cos I’m prepping? No probs. I’m a social butterfly, I’m a confident woman, I can drop it on the dfloor amongst the more tipsy, sober as a judge! I’ve got this. I have an outfit that’s dying for an outing too. I AM going and nothing is stopping me!

So here we are at the casino, I’ve got my glass of ice water, complete with lemon #demcleansingzenfeels, everything’s great…the other girls have cocktails…good on them, I’ll just sip my water, my delicious water, (no hangover for me tomorrow!) while I watch them drink their delicious cocktails. Not even gonna taste a sip…na uh not me. I have CONTROL…

“Oh you have an espresso martini, yes that IS my favourite! No, no, haha no, I don’t want a sip. No! Of course not haha, I’ve got to be good! But thanks beautiful. I’m perfectly happy with my water at the casino…”…

and yay look at me having #allthefun…

Now somewhere in between my first and second glass of water (no I didn’t last long), while the girls got down on the dance floor and the guys went and got themselves more drinks, I got a little… ahh bored? Jealous? Felt an overwhelming need to be drinking something delicious and fun in this fun environment where everyone was having all the fun.

Cue my sudden wave of brilliance:

“Oh my god, I have a cheat meal! A cheat meal! A free pass if you will! Oh praise the lord and the unicorns and the baby cheeses, I have a cheat meal up my sleeve and why can’t my cheat meal be a cheat mocktail (or two)?”

Now hindsight is a wonderful thing, and those pretty, but sickly sweet, sugar filled couple of mocktails would definitely stay in the bottles they came from if I could go back to the fateful moment I swapped my glass of water for promised non-alcoholic fun in a glass, but there we go. I let myself think I needed a sugary pick me up to have fun like everyone else, and instead had what was the most unsatisfying of cheat meals.

I cheated on you poor stomach! I cheated on my cheatmeal! I am a player of the worst type…I hang my head in shame.

The next day, dear stomach, I fully regretted it, I promise you. Gone was the initial thrill that I was getting in on the action and not missing out on the fun. I felt disgusted at myself. I couldn’t believe I’d cheat on you like that.

I know the damage is done and all I can promise is if you forgive me it will never happen again.

Sighhhh. So I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart stomach, and I promise next weekend I’ll feed you a delicious treat of yum…but until then…

How about a nice piece of asparagus and some turkey breast instead?



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