As part of my ’12 months of self control’ project, I decided to give up chocolate for a month. Naturally I picked February to attempt this, what with it being the shortest month, I know, bloody genius. The main reason for doing this was because I am a chocoholic, and I do not use the term lightly. Big Goose (my Mother) bought it to my attention that we quite easily see away 800-1000 calories of chocolate on an average day. This was quite alarming. We have a problem.

I’ve always had a rocky relationship with chocolate based foods. Much like a smoker, I will go to the petrol station, have a word with myself beforehand about not buying any chocolate, “Get the Petrol then GTFO, Lexy you can do this”. Flash forward five minutes and I’m sitting in my car, full to the brim with  shame after scoffing two boost bars in a blind episode. See, I told you I had a problem.

I’ve always assumed that chocolate didn’t make me put on weight, growing up I pretty much refused to eat anything that wasn’t chocolate (or burnt Birds Eye Chicken Char-grills and Quavers for some reason). But anyway, I had the appearance of a girl with some sort of serious eating disorder and considering I used to sit in bed and shovel away multi packs of KitKats and Gold bars into my gob after I thought everyone was asleep, my figure was a misrepresentation of the amount of calories I packed away. So That’s how I figured, like an idiot, that chocolate didn’t do anything to my weight, right? Wrong. In the first 10 days I lost a staggering 6lb. I’m not a big girl, I don’t really have that kind of weight to spare. So that was a shock.

The weight soon got replaced, I had a full withdrawal from chocolate, headaches, foot tapping, anger, irritability and the inability to think about anything but the thought of sweet, beautiful chocolate melting in my mouth.  The only way to stop thinking about it was by eating pretty much everything and anything else. The carbo-load of the century was in full swing.

The top three worst moments were as follows;

1. Every single damn time I drove past this poster:

acde5e1446c96bd846c3d75913039ba0 it was like it was laughing at me, tempting me to pull in to the nearest BP garage and buy all the Easter goods. That shit shouldn’t have even be in the shop yet? It was FEBRUARY!

2. The time I bought a Mocha by accident one morning at college. I took one sip, then poured it down the sink along with little pieces of my heart.

3. The time the ‘fat bird’ (her words not mine, I’m not being mean, she’s pregnant & she asked me to write that) from work ate Rolos in front of me and I tried not to weep.

All in all I’ve learnt that without chocolate I’m a miserable cow. I need it to get me through long days at work, and evenings spent in bed with my other half (Netflix). The cravings never went away, but I didn’t relent, which is the most amount of  will power I’ve ever mustered and for that I am truly proud. Go me! However due to my dramatic initial weight loss I now see that chocolate does indeed contribute to my weight, so maybe I’ll try and cut down? Having said that, on my first day of freedom I went out and purchased this;


I’ll allow you to speculate as to how the ‘cutting down’ goes.


12 Months of Self Control


I’n not religious, I have no obligation to fast during Ramadan, nor do feel the need to give up something for Lent. But for some reason around Christmas time whilst reflecting upon the previous year as we all do, I started thinking about the new year and what I wanted to do with 2015. At first I envisioned going on 10 holidays, winning the lottery and buying myself and my Bestest Baddest Betch (BBB) an insane mansion, not dissimilar to Barbie’s Dream House. Having snapped out of my day dream I decided to set some realistic goals. Something slightly more memorable and worthwhile than a sloppy New Years Resolution that will inevitably get forgotten about mid-March if I was lucky.

Here’s what I came up with;

For each month of 2015 I am going to attempt to either give something up/ attempt a personal challenge. As soon as the month is over, *poof* slate wiped clean, move onto next challenge and evaluate/blog my findings. Why? I have no idea, I guess I’m bored and fancy carrying out a mini social experiment of myself. Me, myself and my very own lab rat (Because who doesn’t love a desperate attempt to slot in a loose Beyoncé reference?). Either way, the fact that I didn’t get round to typing this up until 10th Febuary is not the point, perhaps one of my monthly challenges will be to not be so bloody tardy.

A few of my habits and vices you should get to know; Chocolate, dating, spending money I don’t have, smoking, bread, anything peanut based and heroin. They’re mainly food based because inside I have the heart of Augustus Gloop, except the heroin one, the heroin one isn’t real, but I really like Trainspotting?

People who know me best, I will be calling on you to make some non food based suggestions. Just to clarify as a pre-warning, before everyone jumps on me and tries to suggests it, I absolutely will not give up Gin for any of the twelve months. It goes against my core beliefs and I would rather cut off my right arm. Gin is the glue that holds my whole persona together. None of this ‘dry January’ nonsense for me, thanks.

So who knows? Maybe I will learn something, gain some much needed will power or self control? Maybe it will just be a really boring waste of my time? Maybe I’m just being unrealistic and setting myself up for a fail? With the latter being the more likely option. I’ll give it a shot and let you know. Seeing as it’s already February, I’ll give you a spoiler alert for January’s challenge. I attempted to give up men.