Our youngest moved out last August, and for a while I mostly ate standing at the kitchen counter. Now I'm about half a year into actually sitting down to meals I cook myself. I've dropped 42 pounds — from a snug size 18 to a 12 in the same pair of jeans I couldn't zip back in March. Honestly, the two things that helped most weren't dramatic: a 30-minute walk after breakfast, five or six days a week, and cooking one big pot of something on Sundays so dinner isn't a decision I make at 6pm while hungry. My husband noticed before I did, mostly because I stopped groaning when he asked me to walk the dog.
Small frustrations: some weeks the scale just sits there, and I still catch myself grazing out of boredom around 3pm. But the trend line keeps going the right direction.
For those further along — what finally made portions feel normal instead of like a punishment? I'd love to hear how others got there.