an ode to diets

Recently I was telling some one near and dear to me that I had decided to not eat meat for a time, simply because I have a very low tolerance for gore right now in my life. I asked them if they had any information, and the first thing they told me about was a "diet" plan they heard. WHAT?!  I'm sorry, did you not hear me, I'm not eating meat because I've seen and heard of too many beaten bodies lately, to put a piece of meat in my mouth! But I digress... Why does it always come down to a diet? Why does it seem to be the solution for everything? I am done with diets. Done, done, done, done done. I am done with constantly thinking of the calorie count that goes in my mouth, and the fat percentage in my milk. I'm done discussing my weight, and how its not where its "supposed" to be. I am tired of sitting down with people, and listening to the new approach their taking this month, listening to them tally what they've eaten, or not eaten, how much they lost, or how much they didn't. Listen friends, don't you think you're more important than that? So many facets of your beautiful life, and you let your ups and downs be run by the ups and downs of your scale? I'm tired of feeling that if I don't lose weight, I've failed. Sit back and think about it for a minute.... I've failed? It doesn't even make sense. I'm a mother of two beautiful children, I'm in love with an incredible man, I have a degree and I'm working on another, I have a warm house and a car that runs (most of the time). This doesn't sound like failure. I am healthy, and yet, this is the message that we are bombarded with constantly, because of what? a number on a scale. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of my self-worth amounting to my weight. I'm tired of your self-worth amounting to it as well.
And I'm tired of accepting other ideals as my own. My husband loves me, and he's attracted to me. As far as I'm concerned, until he tells me differently I'm right where I'm supposed to be. Don't get me wrong. I will eat healthy, I'll eat my veggies and plenty of them. I'll walk outside and exercise because it makes me feel good.
Perhaps if I'm released from this demon of  "the diet", I will not longer be possessed by the need to equate what I eat with my happiness or lack there of in life.
And think about it, we're worried we're eating too much? How blessed are we to live in such a "fattened-calf" of a land, that we can obsess over what goes in our mouths. To think that my eating too much, may take away from some one else, or employ some one at a very low paid fast food job so that I can have quick-fix happiness in a burger and fries. Its like soft porn, the giving up of pride for a moment of enticement.This is much more heart wrenching, then my adding another layer to my hips. How egocentric could we get?
I feel that I'm beginning to digress again, as I normally do when I start talking about the plight of the world.
Anyways, I'm done with it. I'm done with dieting. I'm going to eat like a normal person, and I'm going to let my gut determine what goes in it. That is all.