Life was good. In the back of my mind lingered the nagging question: Why was I still gorging myself with food? I even ignored my doctor’s concern about my weight and reasons for lowering my cholesterol.

I was eating when I was glad and when I was sad; I was running out of excuses. I could no longer zip my favourite black slacks, and to my dismay they did not come in any larger size. That very Sunday evening I vowed to seek help on Monday morning. I’d follow my doctor’s advice and sign up for weight counselling.

My knees shook when I approached the counter to register for weight counselling, but I felt at ease when a gentleman with a smiling face greeted me, “Welcome, I’m one of the weight counsellors here. My name is Frank.”

I fought back the tears as I introduced myself and confessed to him how desperate I felt. As I filled out the paperwork, Frank uttered softly, “As of today, desperation and self-loathing are banished from your vocabulary.”

Next, it was time to step on the scales. I didn’t want to look, but I had to face the awful truth; I had gained forty pounds. I felt my cheeks grow hot, I closed my eyes, but that didn’t stop the tears from trickling down my red face.

“You have to think of this as a lifestyle change, not a diet,” Frank said, as he handed me a tissue. “This programme is not a quick fix. Once you lose the weight you cannot go back to your old habits, and you won’t want to.” — Beliefnet.com