You don’t mess with my shoes

I didn’t mind gaining a little weight.

My boobs got bigger. . .

My stomach got a little softer. . .

My curves for a little more curvier. . .

What’s not to love about a little weight gain?

Well, diabetes for one.

High cholesterol for another.

And thirdly there’s join pain.

None of those things are fun and all of them can lead to long term health implications.

Things I don’t want to deal with for sure.

Sure, I am still fun in the sack (at least I used to be before I started this damn sex diet), but I have to say I’m not thrilled with the side effects of weight gain.

Of course, I wasn’t thrilled with being labeled pre-diabetic.

And I wasn’t happy to have elevated cholesterol.

And finding out that I had high blood pressure wasn’t fun either.

But I wasn’t convinced I needed to go on a fucking diet until my shoes stopped fitting me.

Yes.

You can fuck with my cholesterol. You can fuck with my dress size. But the minute you fuck with my shoe collection YOU ARE OUT!