My New Diet Plan: Sugar-Free Werther’s & Spite

In a world where weight-loss solutions are so highly prized, it saddens me that I don’t see a way to monetize this. So, I will now share it at no additional cost to you. All I ask is that you try to not judge me too harshly.

Like most women (and tons of men) walking the Earth, I’ve struggled with weight gain most of my adult life. To be clear, at no point did my weight pose a health concern, nor did I ever undertake any extreme measures. Once food goes in the hole, it stays. No backsies. But even with an active lifestyle, I’ve always been in the plus-size zone.

When I was in my teens, my mother took me to Weight Watchers. It was me and a bunch of Lane Bryant shoppers, all in their 40s and above. This is not the best messaging to give a kid who’s always on a sports team and wears a size 12 or 14. (I'm 5, 8") I remember my father once telling me that I was built “nice and husky.” That’s a compliment no 20-year-old wants to hear. (Yes, I'm taking the liberty of speaking for all 20-year-olds.)

Nonetheless, ever forward. Like I said, I’ve always been active. One of my favorite things to do is to totally exhaust myself. Half-marathons, sprint-distance triathlons—I’ve even done even a full marathon. (Note: There’s a big difference between running 13.1 and 26.2—even when you’ve been training  in the snow at high altitude and the race is at sea level. But at least I didn’t puke. Winner!) I’m always up for a long-distance bike ride, a hike, or a paddling expedition. And I take my extra pounds with me wherever I go.

Then came the current fad of prescription weight-loss shots. Ozempic, Wegovy, Mounjaro, Saxenda, Zepbound—the list goes on. At a monthly cost ranging from $100 to $2,000, people started shooting up and slimming down. Oprah even did a prime-time special on the topic, thus giving permission to those still on the fence to inject the pounds away. (Note: Because I searched Google using the term “weight loss shots” for this blog, I am now inundated with endless ads picturing happy plus-sized women walking briskly. You’re welcome.)

I admit that in the last year, I became weight-loss-injection curious. I’ve had years of being active and eating on the healthier side. (I’d say that I buy only whole foods, but we all know that Mr. Parker does all the cooking and therefore all the shopping. So he buys only whole foods. Until he doesn’t. But mainly he does.) Being about the same amount of overweight my entire adult life, the idea that I could finally hit the target was appealing. But, for so many reasons, I never did anything further about it.

But then, about six months ago, I learned that several of my friends had been prescribed one of the medications mentioned above. Each of these women were farther from their target weight then I was. And in at least one case, I felt that this friend’s health was truly at risk, so good for her. Actually, good for all of them. I want to see my friends have success and live long lives in which they reach out periodically to share a story, a laugh, or a story that leads to a laugh.

Then it was time for my annual physical. I was issued a clean bill of health. Except…my weight was up about 10 pounds from my normal amount of above average. Was I going to ask my doctor? It was almost too embarrassing to say the words. Finally, in my best “It’s no big deal” voice, I queried her about the chances of getting a prescription for a weight-loss drug. She looked at my chart and said, “Well, first thing you'd need to do is gain another 30 pounds.” The best part is that she felt that she needed to add, “But I don’t think it’s worth it.” 

“Really?” The password is: Incredulity Here were my friends, along with tons of people around the planet—including Oprah!—getting to take the “easy way out” to fitness. Yes, I’m oversimplifying. (Remember the password is, incredulity.) But I was mad. No, I was hoppin’ mad. I was glad my friends were getting to cross the finish line, but I wanted to cross it with them. Didn’t my decades of heart-rate boosting, heavy-sweating-without-a-cocktail-at-the-end activity earn me that? 

Are you reading this thinking, “I bet she wasn’t even happy for her friends. I bet she was harboring secret feelings of envy—or worse, hate. I bet she begrudged them every pound.” Please remember, in paragraph one, you promised not to judge me. And the truth was and is, I begrudge them nothing. I want everyone to be healthy and happy. (At least, that’s my beauty pageant answer.)

No, not hate or envy. What I felt was spite. However, I was not spiteful of my friends, but of what I knew to be the hard truth: if I truly wanted to shed pounds, I, Honey Parker, would have to do it the old-fashioned way—diet and exercise, two things that had never worked in the past. While there’ve been times in my life when my weight dropped due to extreme effort or a bad flu (Yay, weight loss via fever and vomit!), I never reached what the charts say that a healthy person my height and age should weigh. And the pounds I did take off eventually returned and brought their friends.  

The next question: How to use spite for good? This may sound crazy or, again, overly simplistic. But I made myself so mad that I just declared I would not be thwarted. I was mad enough to not eat after dinner. I was too angry to snack. I also made sure I was being active in a meaningful way at least five days a week. I wanted the win. I demanded it.

With each pound gone, I found myself embracing my spite hard. Squeezing tighter. Failure was not an option. 

Feeling a mode come of success, I recalled the first time I attempted surfing. Mr. Parker and I were vacationing in Costa Rica with two other couples. Everyone on the trip was better at sports than I am. When we skied together, I was usually the last one to the bottom. Why I was the first one to surf, I don’t know. But there I was. When it was time to pop up on the board, I planted my feet and made a decision: I was not going to fall off. I was tired of being the less-competent one. Falling simply wasn’t an option. To everyone’s surprise, I rode that wave all the way to beach. Why? Because I decided I to make it so. In a world where the door to easy-to-get weight-loss injections was slammed in my face, my newfound spite was the emotional injection providing the same surf-rider determination. 

Still, I needed a plan for when I desired crunch or wanted to end to dinner with something sweet. The crunch was simple. Most raw vegetables (SIDEBAR: I detest the word “veggies”) have crunch. Carrots are my go-to. I can rip through a two-pound bag of organic carrots in two days. Maybe one day if I have a free hand. (Writing takes both.) Too many carrots, you say? 

Sentences you’ll never hear in conversation:

• “Seriously, that girl is out of control with those damn carrots.”
• “I knew those carrots would be the death of her.”  
• “My old college roommate OD’ed on those things.”
• “I know a good carrot support group.”

And to solve the desire for little hit of sweet at night? It was so simple. It was right under my nose. (If my nose was in the supermarket candy aisle.) Caramel-flavored hard candies. To be specific, Werther's Original Sugar Free Hard Candies. Small. Sweet. Creamy. Long-lasting. The bag lists a serving as 45 calories. And by the way, a “serving” is five pieces. I have never had five pieces at once. Just one, maybe two do the trick. When I go out, I usually have a couple in my pocket, just in case. 

Gradually, the weight started coming off, which let me know my spite hadn’t gotten too out of hand. A pound week, more or less-ish. As of writing this, I’ve gotten rid of those 10 extra pounds—plus an additional 18. That’s over six months.

The big question? Can I keep it up? Is this my new life? Or will I backslide? Hard to say.

I hope the answer is… Yes. As long as I have spite in my heart and Werther's in my pantry, I’ll be fine.