I heard about it before I saw it. How beautiful, moist and tantalizing it was. I knew I couldn’t resist and yet I longed to see it. Still I resisted. After all, I hadn’t been officially invited. So I tried to pretend it wasn’t there, even though I heard it calling for me.
“Margaret? Margaret! I know I’m here. And you know I’m here. And I’m so sad and lonely, Margaret. Won’t you come and visit me? I don’t have that many calories and my icing is so blue and white and beautiful.”
My friend came to my cube with a plate and gave a real voice to the cake who had been shouting my name ever since it arrived. “Margaret, did you know we have cake over there? You should get a piece. It is absolutely worth the calories.” She smiled that sickeningly sweet way pregnant people smile because they have no guilt. Calories are not calories when your pregnant. I should know. So I ran–I swear–I actually ran around the corner fast smoke was billowing at my heels. I then saw the cake in its fully glory. It was love at first sight.
It didn’t matter that I’d been 1 day without sugar. It didn’t matter that I was finally starting to feel a modicum of control. Nothing would stop me from savoring every single morsel I could stuff into my face.
I heaped the cake onto a plate and scrapped off some extra icing for good measure. The best part of the cake is the icing, right? And I began the slow and careful walk back to my cube. Slow…because I didn’t want to muss it. Careful, because my poor heart would have broken if I dropped it. But when I reach my space I felt a teeny, tiny twinge of guilt. Did I really want to eat the cake? YES! But really, Margaret? YES! Still, I couldn’t do it. It was just so pretty. So I put it in a Tupperware container and tucked it gently into the freezer so I could take it home and eat it slowly….later….when no one would see me….it would be our little secret.
I texted my husband. “I have cake. I think I should eat it. Don’t you?”
“No. You should save the cake for me.”
“Maybe it will survive the ride home.” I responded begrudgingly.
And it did. Somehow that perfect dessert made it home. And do you know that my husband actually got to eat it? And I didn’t eat any?
I woke up the next morning and I felt like I was Queen of the world. I’ve got the power! I said to myself as I danced around the house. Somehow I survived the temptation. It was so empowering. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to resist a dessert. I felt so great about it I got my husband another piece the next day. And he was very happy. And so was I.
The moral of this story is, I love cake. But I love my body more. And even though it was really hard to deprive myself of that wonderfully sinful cake, I was so glad I did. Sometimes doing the right thing, though painful in the moment, is actually the most amazing feeling in the whole wide world. Really. You should try it sometime!
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