In England if you’re trying to abstain from anything bad for you, sweets, cigarettes, alcohol or whatever, we call it ‘being good’. We say “oh I can’t have that dessert I’m being good.” Why we can’t just say “no thanks” to our vices without any kind of explanation is beyond me, but given that it’s something I am trying to do more of lately, I have been thinking about why we feel the need to justify not abusing our bodies.

In essence, I think it’s because it’s trendy to do so. For anyone who drinks socially or regularly, saying you’re avoiding alcohol is like walking into a Church and belting the vicar around the head with a science book. For the gaggle of people obsessed with pizza, chocolate or any other bad and popular food, saying that you choose to avoid it causes a hilarious ruckus on social media; the comments of support get lost among the disgust that you’re choosing to be healthy.

I think I will try a new mind set with my vices. I won’t justify why I’m not having them. The simple reason is, they’re rotten for your body and I don’t want to die when I’m 45 years old. My dad struggled with heart disease – two heart attacks, two surgeries, a mountain of drugs, scans, tests, doctor’s appointments – for over thirty years starting at the age of 45. For the rest of his life he was either in pain, out of breath, struggling or generally feeling lousy. He could never quite recover from it (mainly because he never really changed his lifestyle, he just did what most people do and relied on the drugs that eventually ended him to keep him going).

That won’t be me. There is too much hype surrounding self-destruction these days. Get drunk, eat pizza, sleep too much, sleep too little, sit down all day. It’s all said in jest and supposedly ironically but say it enough and the irony slips away and you’re left with what is basically the sad truth: we’re addicted to things that hurt us and we won’t even admit it. So sure, we’ll joke about eating pizza for the third time this week. We’ll joke that we haven’t been outside all day. We’ll joke that we’re drinking beer. Again.

I just… it’s just not funny or enjoyable any more, for me. It’s a burden, it’s expensive and it’s boring. I am so bored out of my skull of writing posts, talking to friends and thinking to myself ‘I have to change things’, and then getting caught up in that ‘eat all the junk!’ hype if you dare to ask social media ‘I wonder what I should have for dinner?’

I am so ready to brush it all off and just feel good about feeling good. I want to post a selfie and feel confident about it because of my lifestyle, not in spite of it (being thin and stuffing yourself with chocolate is not a miracle of science, you’re no healthier than the fat person doing the same thing).

I apologise if this post seems preachy. It’s more a sermon to myself than anyone else. These past few days, despite a couple of minor slip-ups, I’ve treated my body well. I’m taking vitamins (A,D and Omega 3), I’m drinking water and I’m eating a high fat, moderate protein, low carb diet. I already feel better than I did a week ago and I can’t wait until I’m fully adapted to it.

About The Author

Artist. Writer. Vlogger.

Scout is an artist, novelist and video content creator from England, whose life goal is to live on the road in Scandinavia!

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