Dear Freshman 15,

I remember hearing rumors about you. You were this supernatural myth that everyone believed couldn’t happen to them, much like teenage pregnancy. To some, you were feared. To others, a joke.
How could anyone possibly gain weight with all the walking we do from building to building, I asked myself. Looking back I realize that I had highly underestimated just how small my private college campus was. I laughed at the thought of me, the three-sport athlete, gaining any weight that wasn’t muscle. Ever since I had hit puberty my weight had stayed around the same, so when people brought your name up, I didn’t even bat an eye.

And then I arrived at college orientation and there you were, waving at me from across the room, beckoning me to join you at a table full of free donuts.
From that point on, you followed me around like a ghost.

Every time I went to the dining hall, there you were taunting me with free ice cream and a buffet of subpar food.
Every time I drove through the Whataburger drive-thru, there you were in the passenger seat begging me to get you a Honey Butter Chicken Biscuit.

Every time I felt like going for a run, or going to the gym, there you were reminding me that Netflix has eleven seasons of Grey’s Anatomy that I could re-watch for the third time.

Every time I went grocery shopping, there you were throwing a tantrum if I didn’t get your favorite junk foods.
When my boyfriend asked me out you were so excited you could barely contain yourself! This meant free food all the time!

Every time he took me out on a date, there you were eating an appetizer, main course, dessert, and the cold leftovers after he dropped us off at my dorm.
Every time I walked by a vending machine, there you were reminding me that I had change under the food wrappers in my purse.
Every time there was free pizza at school events, there you were asking if you could take the leftover pieces.

You were my biggest pest, but also one of my best friends. I know you didn’t bless everyone with your presence, I was just one of the lucky few.

Freshman year came and went, and along with it, you. You weren’t there talking in my ear every time I saw food in my peripherals. At times, I kind of missed you. When my boyfriend took me out to eat at buffets, I could never eat nearly as much as I did when you were around.

But people move on. And I’m sorry to have left you so suddenly, but I had to listen to my body and what it needed. My body doesn’t agree with milk, but you love cereal. Do you see the disconnect?

Oh, my beloved Freshman 15, I am glad to be rid of you. I don’t really care about the number on the scale, but what I do care about is my health. Thank you for teaching me how to listen to and care for my body.

Your Friend,
Marisol Ramos