When Bonnee first came to see me, she was only slightly over­weight, about fifteen pounds to be exact. But those fifteen pounds were like fifty on someone else: She'd look in the mirror and see a "fat" body.

I looked at Bonnee that first week and I saw a beautiful, poised, and capable-looking woman. She appeared every bit the empowered woman ... a graphic artist by day, a mother of three at night. She was stylishly dressed in leggings and a striking lemon-yellow silk blouse.

But the dual roles were getting to her, I could tell. There were rings around her eyes, and she hated to leave her children in the morning.

Before we began to discuss her life, I knew that Bonnee had to get into good blood sugar. That first week, I put her on the 5-Day Miracle Diet and simply asked her to do the best she could.

Bonnee came back the next week and had lost one pound, but she was still full of pain. "That's all? One pound? Forget it! I'm hopeless!" she exclaimed, ready to walk out the door for good.

I told her to wait. I looked at her journal. Sure enough, there were several hard chews missing. There was an evening out with two glasses of wine. There was even a dinner that hadn't been written down.

This went on for two more weeks. I asked her directly if perhaps she didn't want to lose weight.

That startled her—and jolted her into thinking about her fathead issues. "I want to lose weight, Adele, but I don't want to open any doors. I can't leave my job, but I hate what it's doing to me emotion­ally. I feel I'm not there for my kids. That's why I wear these." Bonnee stood up and showed me her leggings, those wonderful black stretchy pants that "grow" with you. "As long as my leggings fit me, I feel I don't have to do anything. I don't have to look at my life. Silly, huh?"