As a Midwest girl, I guess I've got a bit of a pot belly by now. I’d say "beer belly," but I think we both know it’s from cake, burgers, donuts, fries, and all that delicious state fair food like funnel cake and ice cream, not the beer. (My boyfriend probably drinks most of the beer anyway.)

A sign that I’m not the hot young pretty cheerleader that everyone wants to be with. Honestly, I’ve probably always had a big appetite, so it probably snuck up on me. Imagine waking up and the food baby you used to kind of enjoy (or at least find satisfaction in) after eating especially hadn’t quite gone away completely. You'd probably thought nothing of it, eat a light breakfast (or maybe no breakfast at all), and by lunchtime it would be gone.

But then, another day, months or maybe even years later, you realize it had stopped going away. In fact, it turned into a permanent little pudgy bulge peeking over my waistband.