There is always a constant battle going on in my head between my will- power and my stomach. My stomach normally wins π
I have hated the way i’ve looked for over half my life. Wow. Half my life. 19 Years to be precise. Ever since starting secondary school, when what you wore and what you looked like became much more important than who you were…GOD I HATED IT!!
I guess that’s when my unhealthy relationship with food began. Fad diets were really taking off, and I remember doing the “Kellogs special K” diet quite a few times in which you would only eat cereal twice a day and then a healthy meal at night. It actually makes me so angry thinking about it and how it was plastered all over T.V like it was the norm. Yes, I would lose 6lbs but then it would go back on and then some and then you move on to the next crazy diet. Each time loathing yourself a little bit more.
For me, food is a crutch. I eat when i’m hungry ;when i’m not; when i’m happy; when i’m sad. I’d quite happily never eat another meal again and just eat chocolate and cakes. ππ€£ Darned sweet tooth π€
People always assume that if you’re bigger then you must eat three 15inch pizzas every day and just slob around. Not the case.
My size had been roughly the same for most of my adult life, fluctuating up and down a dress size. Even though I hated it, it was reliable π
The only time i’ve ever been happy with my body was when I was pregnant. I didn’t mind the stretch marks and my ever expanding waistline and the fact that my front bum was going to have to stretch to the size of a large grapefruit ππ..I was growing a miracle β€
2015
I suppose even afterwards, getting back into my size 14 “hump me” jeans a month after giving birth felt amazing and I was embracing my new Mum tum.
But then, well it all changed. Fast forward a few months and i’m in constant pain, crying every day, and 4 stone heavier and I had no idea why. For once I wasn’t in control of losing weight. I wasn’t bigger because of what I was eating, nothing I did worked. At my lowest point I honestly thought I was dying. I remember texting my friend whilst waiting on the blood results saying. “WHAT IF I DIE? I’M SO SCARED”. My body just felt like it was shutting down.
2017 and i’m on my thyroid meds (yup, you’ve guessed it i’m talking about my Thyroid again. Stop reading now if you’ve heard me drone on enough) and i’m starting to notice my cheek bones coming back but I still have a long way to go. I’m still not comfortable in my own skin and have lost all of my confidence. All because I was a bit heavier than “normal” for goodness sake. It seems so trivial but it’s an anxiety I live with every day.
So here we are in 2019, 4 stone lighter and starting to feel my old self again, but i’m realising more and more that no matter what size I am, i’m never going to be happy and will always have hang-ups (or flop downs in my case π€£)
It’s the whole “I wish I was as thin as the first time I thought I was fat” scenario. I look back at pictures of my teenage self and see collar bones and a tiny waist and wish I hadn’t have listened to all the negativity. It stopped me from doing so many things in my life.
I’m not there yet and i’ve been eating everything like there is going to be a mass ration ( seriously, 2 custard doughnuts and a big bag of giant buttons during nightshift last night) I self sabotage a lot and only I can make the changes I need. I’m not just automatically going to wake up one day a size 12 and be able to run a half marathon….more’s the pity.
We each have a goal we want and I’m going to start holding myself more accountable and making sure I make the right choices. I mean Dear Lordy, i’m single now and the thought of anyone seeing me naked is, well…..yeh let’s not. I have to accept and love myself though before anyone else will.
This time when I reach my goal; notice I said when not if ( i’m getting better π) i’m not going to stress out if I put a bit back on again…afterall. I want my cake and to eat it.
We are all absolutely amazing, gorgeous people and we need to remember that. β€
My personal target this year is to stop caring about what my arms look like and just let the air circulate. If somebody has a problem with them then i’ll just flap a bingo wing in their face π€£
Much love xxx