I took this photo Monday afternoon.

Why? you might think. Why waste your time taking pictures of food, especially when it’s half-bitten?

I’m not sure, honestly. I take too many food photos. It’s  my thing; a compulsion, really. I feel like I can’t enjoy a meal until I’ve documented it, and my need to capture food comes as naturally as breathing.

Three weeks into my weight loss program, it’s had its tough moments — but I’m doing better than I ever thought I would. My cousin’s baby shower on Saturday was the true test of my self-control — and I’m happy to say that I (mostly) passed. The spread was absolutely fantastic, and one of my all-time favorite dishes — strawberry pretzel salad — was out in all its gleaming, sugary, delicious glory. I calculated points and had a serving about half the size of my palm, y’all, and my hands are small. (Um, pretty much the only small thing about me.)

But the point? I had a taste, and then I quit.

I had one of my grandmother’s famous homemade peanut butter cups.

I had one cream cheese mint.

I had two white chocolate-covered pretzels.

Absolutely none of the awesome book-shaped cake.

A taste. And then I quit.

It wasn’t easy. In my more ungenerous moments, I look at others eating whatever they like and I feel hungry and tired and I think: I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m sure I will feel that way next week, and next month, and next year. But I also know I’ve committed myself to something bigger than myself, and though I’ve only lost 1.8 pounds so far? Well, it’s 1.8 pounds no longer dragging me down.

So yes: the apple. I’m not the sort of person who bites into apples. I’m the calculated type, the careful type; the person who slices her fruit into equal pieces, devouring them one at a time. I’m someone who worries about food on her face, about getting her desk messy, about apple getting wedged in my teeth.

But I bit it anyway.

Because the little plastic knife I was battling with wasn’t cutting it — literally.

And because, for the first time in a long time, I’m feeling in control of what I choose to eat. Or not eat. And I’m just going for it.

It’s a winding road ahead, but if it’s paved with juicy apples? I know I’ll figure it out.