I was in middle school when I went on my first “summer diet.” I was much too aware of the looming possibility that I’d be around boys while wearing a tankini soon enough (the public pool was like preteen Tinder before Tinder was a thing). Brief, but relevant side note: the “boys” I’m referring to were all shorter than five feet and laden with preteen acne and braces; why I felt any pressure at all, I’ll never understand. Nonetheless, I had read in Seventeen that cutting out cheese and eating more vegetables could help you slim down, so naturally, I took my veggie burger without cheese that night and actually ate the salad my mom always optimistically put on my plate.
That “diet” lasted about two days (it went out the window as soon as my friend’s mom made us mac n’ cheese–my weakness–when I was over), but it’s a small example of the longtime pressure…
