Diet. Die.

“This diet makes me want to die.” “I’d rather live fat and happy than die skinny and miserable.”

Have you ever heard someone say something similar?

DIE ette: A little death. I am on a diet… I am dying a little bit every minute I am on this DIE-ette.

A diet used to simply be what someone or something ate regularly. A lizard eats a diet of crickets.  A koala eats a diet of eucalyptus.   Mythological super models eat a diet of champagne and cotton balls. I eat a diet of coffee, chocolate covered almonds, and pizza interspersed with meals of kale and chia seeds. (balance, People, balance.)  This kind of diet is FACT. It’s what I actually eat.

Then, there’s the DIE-ette. The one that kills your soul and sometimes your body a little each day.  This is the strict, short-term list of rules that You or Slimquick or the 4 Hour Somebody or Fruitarians United have decided you should eat.

I am suffocating under the conflicting Die-ettes I should be on. I don’t want to be on a DIE-ette. I want to be on a LIFE.

I WANT TO BE ON A LIFE.  Hear me?!

Do you want to be on a life too?

People go on diets together all the time. Let’s go on a Life together. We will start tomorrow. But for real this time.

Let’s go on a life!