Yesterday as I was scrolling through social media, I stopped on a post that said New Years resolutions usually don’t stay past January 12th. Though I myself am a huge fan of goal setting, I actually never really set very big New Years Resolutions like losing a certain number of pounds, buying a house, paying off a big bill or anything like that. In fact this year I only set one, to be less wasteful, and restated last year’s, to always put my cart in the corral at the store after unloading into my car.

Last night my husband and I enjoyed a much needed date night and our first stop on our outing was pizza. 🍕

Now, like any other self respecting 30-something year old who grew up on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and begged my mom for a TMNT birthday party instead of a stupid princess themed one when I was a kid, pizza is basically a good group to me. Life without pizza is like a day without sunshine. But I digress.

I had hardly eaten much of anything before going out because I was knee deep in working on a project before we left. After basically inhaling the salad I ordered as an appetizer and spilling half of the olives on the table, our pizza arrived in all its glory.

In my life, when pizza arrives at the table in most instances, my first instinct is to find the BIGGEST piece and generously offer to distribute slices to everyone so I can selfishly keep the biggest one for myself. This says a lot about my relationship wit food. It doesn’t matter if the slice is one centimeter bigger or if they forgot to cut two pieces in half and it’s a mega piece. I can find it immediately and IT IS MINE.

But many years ago I realized my relationship with good was skewed because thoughts like that cross my mind. I feel a sense of entitlement to the largest piece of pizza, cake, pie. The bowl that looks like it has the biggest portion it is should automatically go to me. It doesn’t matter that this can often equate into one extra bite, but I realized long ago that this was a big habit deeply burned into me I needed to break.

So a few years ago my New Years resolutions was to not take the biggest portion of something. I can’t fix all of my relationship issues with food in one fell swoop but I can attempt to break them one at a time. It took that entire year to stop and think about my choices around which portion was mine, or which to choose when cake, pizza, and staff luncheons happened at work. But slowly I got there, and am still here today.

So last night when I picked up the pizza spatula and found the largest and most glorious looking slice of missliced pizza that was nearly 1/4 bigger than its companion slice, I asked my husband to hand me his plate and I placed that piece of pizza on his dish for him.

Sometimes NY resolutions stick if we really want them to and are willing to work for it!