When I was younger — about 13 - 14, I wore cargo shorts all the time. They were my constant companion. I would refuse to wear jeans or skirts or any other type of short.

Around the same time, I went into high school and it was then that I started stacking on the weight. I had always been large, but as my body size went up, I didn’t upgrade my cargo shorts. One day I realised that I’d worn through the thighs of one of my pairs of shorts — no big deal. It does happen. But then I saw a picture of myself, of the bulges where there shouldn’t be the stomach that would noticeably stick out over my thighs. I was like some sort of balloon animal, made up entirely of circles or ovals, not how I ’should be’.

I ‘discovered’ jeans and never wore shorts again. Never even considered it, not even in Summer. The thought of wearing shorts made me wince. All I could picture was my knees, the nobbles from the excess fat, the flab that sat behind the knee. So from the time I was about 14, through to the age of 21, I have been short free. I’ve barely shown my legs.

Until today. Today, with the help of some of my college friends, I went shopping and I bought 2 pairs of shorts. You can see my legs, knees and all. (You can also see how much of a clutz I truly am now — the number of bruises on my legs are ridiculous). I am a comfortable size 16, and so I decided it was time to hang up my hang ups. This year I will be all shorted out. I refuse to be ashamed of my body anymore!

I don’t know if anyone still reads this (wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t), but if you do — what are your body hang ups, and how did you (if you did?) get over them?

Posted at 3:26 am | 1 Comment »

It’s not hard to feel like a fraud when you’re fat. At lunch yesterday I was sitting with a group of girls. We’re talking about the normal things: boys, the food, gossip. The topic turns to the weather. “It’s gorgeous outside,” I say, looking out of the dining hall to the sun shining outside. “A few more weeks and it’ll be beach weather.”

One of the girls smiles and nods enthusiastically. “I can’t wait. I love the beach.”

The other two groan. One of them says, “Aw crap,” and when we look bewildered, she looks at her ally. “You know what I’m talking about.” The other girl nods.

“What?” I ask, wondering if maybe she just didn’t like the sun.

“It’s a few weeks until uncovering weather and everyone gets to see all my winter fat.” The other girl nods.

I’ve never worn a bikini in my life. And why worry about the possibility of losing 5 kilos to get into a bikini when you’ve got another 30 to stress over? I haven’t swum in the beach in a long time. Partly because we don’t go there much…partly because I don’t like the exposure.

It’s not that I have anything against my body. I would wear a bikini if I thought I could get away with it. Not a stringy one, of course, but a sturdy bikini and boardies over the top? It could work. Except the thought of walking into a store and asking for help choosing a bikini scares the crap out of me. And then there’s the fact that putting on a bikini seems to open you up to comment — good or bad. How many times have you heard someone go, “Damn, she’s hot!”? Same story, but the exact opposite. And people who wouldn’t comment on how good someone looks would comment on how bad you look. Frankly, I’d rather sing karaoke in front of everyone I know — friends, family, work colleages — than put myself up for comment. (And that’s saying something.) I’m quite liking what I see at the moment. I don’t want that to change.

“Oh,” I say, feeling silly. Why didn’t I think of that? Oh right. “It’s never been an issue for me…I don’t do it,” I mumble awkwardly.

I feel ridiculous. Why am I sitting here talking to these girls about getting our ‘beach bodies’ ready? In what alternate universe do I even partially qualify?

It’s the same when you’re sitting with a group of friends (usually guys), and they start commenting on people. “Look at her! She’s huge, she so fat, she cannot pull off those shorts.” I look at the girl in question. Probably 20kg lighter than me. Shit. What do you say to that? Okay, yes, it was possibly a poor choice of wardrobe and the shorts may not be the most flattering things she could have chosen. But on the other hand, how dare they tear someone down like that? And if they think that of her, what would they say about me if I wasn’t their friend?

So you keep your mouth shut and wonder why they can’t see the giant neon light on your forehead screaming “Imposter!”. And hope that they just won’t catch a glimpse.

Posted at 3:22 am | No Comments »

So I’m pretty sure that no one reads this journal, although I don’t have access to any statistics. But that’s okay, because this is mostly for me. Still, if anyone stumbles across this and wants to take part, leave me a comment and bolster my pride.

We, as people, spend so much time thinking about others. Is she alright? Does he really like me? What will he think? What with Mum/brother/husband think? Will they like this? It’s almost constant. Women, mothers in particular, are guilty of putting themselves last again and again and again. How many times have you not gone for a walk because you needed to do something for someone else instead? Or had that piece of pie because others made you feel guilty about trying to put yourself first?

With the recession here, everything gets harder, including a diet. ‘Cost’ applies not just to money, but points and time as well. The cost of going to the gym? a $50/month gym membership and 2 hours of your time. Cost of eating an icecream? 5 points, several hundred calories, $3 and 10 minutes. To cut back on spending one denomination, we spend another. The constant compromise can wear anyone down, make you feel like nothing can ever go right, and feel as if you need to compromise yourself.

30 Days of Love is about just that: finding ways in everyday life to shower yourself in love. It’s a reaffirmation of your own self worth. It’s 30 days of finding cheap and simple ways to show yourself love, ways that do not involve eating. It’s about feeling sensual and attractive, about listening to yourself, about improving how you talk to yourself and how you think about yourself as a person.

So for the next 30 days, I’m going to post with tips and ideas for easy ways to work on your relationship with yourself. And work on mine at the same time.

30 Days of Love

1. Nails

(more…)

Posted at 9:38 pm | No Comments »

Okay, so. I understand that being overweight, being fat, is not healthy. I get that. But what I don’t understand, what make me angry, is incidents like these ones. Since when did being fat mean that you were also not human? And on a small scale, why is fat automatically unattractive?

Let me flip this: A person who is skinny is not necessarily, not automatically, attractive. There can be all sorts of things wrong with them; bad skin, bad hair, bad teeth, bad bone structure, no physique, perhaps they’re too skinny. But a person who is fat is automatically unattractive? How does that work? Maybe we aren’t healthy, sure, and there’s excess bits and bits the jiggle — and that can be offputting, but what about those other things? You can discount a person as attractive because they don’t have them, but you can’t count a person as attractive even if they do?

The world isn’t going to change because of one itsy post by a random fat girl on the internet. I know that. But I had to get that out, because it makes me almost angry when I get people — boys, even — who ask me why I have such bad self-esteem. Why girls are so concerned about their appearance and so obsessed about not gaining weight. And then they turn around a comment on a girl who is possibly even lighter than me. This is why. Society tells us that I am ugly.

Skinny is not necessarily attractive, people. And fat — it’s not necessarily ugly. Instead of looking critically at everyone, try to find the good points. They are there.

Posted at 9:13 am | No Comments »

There’s something I always find vaguely unsettling about photos, and I’m sure that many people in my position feel it too. When I look at a photo, the outside never seems to match the inside. Inside, I’m this wonderful, attractive, bubbly and warm person — outside, I’m mostly just flabby and pale. Particularly in my face.

This dissonance is really hard to handle a lot of the time. Often it’s that which snaps us into doing something. But it’s that much harder to handle when you see a picture of yourself that you hate, and other people tell you how good you look. Because the next thought it “What do I look like most of the time?” And the answer is never encouraging.

I’m going to make a generalisation here, but I find that it’s usually my female friends who talk about how gorgeous we all look. Men, not so much. And I think the reason is this: To women, “gorgeous,” “beautiful,” “pretty,” is all as compared to what you normally look like. If you dress up nice, “Don’t you look wonderful!” And we preen and feel like we look just like them for a while and everything is just fine. But to men, all those words are usually in comparison to other women. “She’s gorgeous” they’ll say, and they’ll mean it — objectively. While women mean it subjectively — subjective to what you normally look like.

This is why, I think, for a long time I believed that I wasn’t beautiful at all. I was unattractive: full stop, end of story. The only people who complimented me were women, because they subjectively saw my beauty. But then I started looking for things I like about myself, and I saw someone with a good bone structure, with a nice body shape, with lovely skin and pretty eyes. And I realised that the only thing stopping the objective beauty was how much excess weight I carried.

So now when I see a picture that I hate but that others decree is gorgeous, I don’t get all defensive and feel like shit for days — I smile and thank them. Because my friends are seeing my beauty long before I really see it, and long before it becomes ‘objective’. Particularly as these girls notice my changes along the way.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is: Accept the compliment, don’t think about what you think of the person behind it (yourself). It is tough, and sometimes I do get frustrated, because I know that objectively, I’m not attractive. But I’m also learning that, as a person, I am subjectively wonderful — and one day, those two worlds will collide.

Posted at 8:52 pm | No Comments »