Defining Myself According To My Demons

It  isn’t  often  that  I  post  something  completely  personal,  but  I’m  getting  to  the  point  where  I  need  to  say  something.  Maybe  it’s  because  I  need  to  get  it  out  of  my  system  so  that  I  can  finally  stop  thinking  about  it,  or  perhaps  this  is  my  form  of  therapy.  Either  way,  I’m  terrified  because  I’m  facing  my  problem  head-on.  Finally.

I’m  always  worried  about  my  weight.

Growing  up  in  school  I  was  always  aware  that  I  was  the  biggest  amongst  my  friends,  but  I  never  really  appreciated  that  in  fact  I  wasn’t  that  bad  (UK size  12/14).  When  I  was  eighteen,  I  managed  to  fit  into  (UK)  size  10  clothes,  yet  I  still  had  trouble  understanding  that  I  wasn’t  fat.

In  truth,  I  never  allowed  my  weight  to  stop  me  from  doing  anything,  I  had  more  of  a  carefree  attitude,  but  I  still  knew  at  the  back  of  my  mind  that  I  was  still  the  biggest  of  my  friends.

Fast  forward  a  good  few  years,  and  here  I  am  again,  only  this  time  I  know  I’m  fat.  My  clothes  are  bigger  (UK  size  16)  and  I  can’t  look  in  a  mirror  without  seeing  the  bulging  fat  across  my  body,  and  the  double  chin  on  my  face.  It’s  disgusting,  and  it’s  bothering  me  every  day.


In  the  heat  of  the  summer,  I  can’t  venture  out  in  public  wearing  a  vest  top  without  a  cardigan  to  cover  my  arms  because  of  my  super  sexy  bingo  wings.  When  people  glance  my  way  I  can’t  help  but  think  about  what  they  see.

Fat.  Ugly.  Disgusting.

And  all  this  stems  from  the  confidence  I  lost  in  my  past.

And  even  now  my  lizard  brain (the  part  connected  to  worry/danger)  is  telling  me   what   you’re  all  thinking  again.

“If  she’s  that  bothered  by  it  she  should  exercise  more”  or  “Go  on  a  diet”.

The  last  one  isn’t  so  simple  because  of  health  complications,  but  I  eat  a  balanced  diet  anyway.  Fruit.  Vegetables.  Chocolate  once  in  a  while.  Then  there’s  exercising.  I  love  swimming,  but  if  you  tell  me  to  join  a  gym  etc.  I’ll  turn  you  down.  Why?

Because  I’m  embarrassed.

Once  again  my  mind  is  telling  me  people  will  laugh,  make  fun  of  the  fat  girl  sweating  after  2  minutes.  What’s  even  more  depressing  is  I  have  tons  of  beautiful  clothes  with  the  tags  still  on  because  I  can’t  fit  in  them  now.  I  bought  them  before  the  darkness  of  my  past.

Society  has  it  embedded  in  my  mind  that  we’re  becoming  an  obese  nation.  Every  day  I’m  faced  with  adverts  based  on  diets,  supplements,  and  new  weight  loss  fads.  That’s  fine,  I  have  absolutely  nothing  against  that,  but  it’s  making  me  hyper  aware   that  I’m  even  more  fat  now  because  I’m  seeing  pictures  related  to  body  fat  percentages  and  what  is  ‘normal’.

Do  you  know  how  depressing  that  makes  me  feel?  Because  now  I  know  what  people  are  thinking  based  on  the  comments  and  reactions  under  these  pictures.

I’m  not  normal  –  and  that  I’m  okay  with,  because  otherwise  I’d  just  be  another  carbon  copy  of  what  society  is  demanding  me  to  be.  I’d  like  to  think  my  personality  means  more  than  my  appearance.

However,  the  thought  of  how  I  look  is  stopping  me  from  pursuing  certain  aspects  of  my  future.  My  excuses  go  like  this:  “Once  I’ve  lost  X  amount,  I’ll  be  able  to  do  this,  this  and  this.”  But  my  weight  has  nothing  to  with  whatever  it  is.

Why  should  I  let  my  twisted  thoughts  stop  me  from  pursuing  my  passion?

Someone  wise  recently  told  me  that  easy  is  productive.  It  took  me  a  while  to  truly  appreciate  what  it  meant,  but  I  finally  do.

It’s  time  I  accept  my  weight  and  move  on  with  my  life.  Who  knows  where  I’ll  be  in  five  years  time,  but  by  accepting  myself  I’ve  cut  out  the  hard,  evil  voices  in  my  mind  telling  me  I’m  not  good  enough.  So  what?

This  is  who  I  am;  fat  or  not.

Easy  is  productive.

Easy  is  happy.

Easy  is  the  way  forward.

It’s  time  I  be  happy  for  the  way  I  look  now,  not  worry  about  how  I  think  I  should  look.

3 thoughts on “Defining Myself According To My Demons

  1. Once again, you astound me with your focus and drive and strength of character! I’m just some idiot from the internet, but for what it’s worth I suspect you look great, though I understand the point you’re making about the ridiculous pressures society can put on a person to achieve the supposed concensus of an ideal body image. All I know when I read your posts is that if I had an army of Justine Winters I could probably take over the planet in an afternoon 😉

    A great post, as always 🙂


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