I’ve spoken about my weight a lot on TLP, with the focus ranging from dealing with weight gain and the effect that contraception has had on my weight to how my insecurities about my weight have led to self-sabotage in my relationships. Most recently, however, I uploaded a lingerie shoot that celebrated my in-between chubster body - a body that I don’t see represented anywhere, and a body that doesn’t fit into either the “regular” or “plus-sized” box. It’s no secret that my weight has yo-yo’d throughout my blogging career and generally, whenever I’ve spoken about it the tone has always been negative. The Valentine’s Lingerie for the Belly Conscious post was - surprisingly even for me - a 180 turn in this respect; even though I was covering up a part of myself that I am still self conscious about, I was at the same time saying that I no longer wanted to feel ashamed or guilty.
One super babe named Tori left a comment on that same post which really resonated with me. “Love love love the confidence you have in your body,” she wrote, followed by “treat it with love, it’s your permanent home.” Your permanent home. For a generation that is so patently obsessed with their appearance, it’s incredible how often and how many of us forget this. When we subject ourselves to our own criticisms, we berate our permanent homes - no matter where we run, those insecurities are going to run right alongside with us.
To say that I always have confidence in my body is a lie. Of course I have days where I turn my head to the side whilst I mimic conversations in the mirror, trying to judge just how large my double chin is when I laugh. And of course, I sometimes spend 15 minutes holding in my stomach and then pushing it out to the full, trying to figure out what’s my actual weight and what’s me just breathing in. And yes, when I sit down in the bath, I am met with a perpetual sense of disappointment. All of those things are true. I do not whole-heartedly love my body. However, over the past month the way I perceive myself has started to change, and that confidence that so many of you saw in the Valentine’s Lingerie post is starting to become real. Best of all, I know why.
About a month ago, I made a decision. 2017 was going to be the year of being fat and happy. For so many years I have worried and stressed and despaired about my weight. I’ve lost weight, gained weight, lost it and gained even more again. I’ve dieted, exercised and calorie counted to the point where I was simply not a fun person to be around. I made myself miserable. Restricting myself and counting calories still makes me miserable. So I’m not doing it anymore. I’m stopping. I just don’t want to be that person anymore, and the absolutely unparalleled freedom that has come from that is incredible.
Chances are, I’m going to put on weight. I’m eating chocolate biscuits when I want, desserts when I’m at dinner, a lil’ hunk of cheese at night when I get the nibbles - of course I’m going to put on weight, that’s a no-brainer. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I already have put on a few pounds. I tried to pull on a pair of size 10 jeans the other day and good lord, they would not even go past my hips. Whilst in the past this would have sent me into a downward spiral of salad-sulking and desperate longing whenever Keiran snuck a good old piece of cheese on toast, I can now hand on heart say that I do not care. I don’t fucking care! It’s amazing!