Size Does Matter!

Hello one and all, 

Standing in front of my wardrobe I looked back at myself. I was fat. I mean saying this now sounds like nothing new to me, I have always been a larger lady, even in my teens and during my school years I was always bigger than other girls, but as I graduated High School and things in my life started to take a downward turn my diet was one of the last things on my mind. Living with my Uncle and Auntie for a while was easy, as was living with my dad and even Mr. Workaholic and his Dad. Everything pretty much was cooked and dished out to me, all I had to do was eat it. I would walk most if not everywhere and totted up a good few miles everyday by simply getting to and from work, college and socialising. 

But when I moved up to Northampton in order to start my new life with Mr. Workaholic I ballooned to my biggest weight so far. At over nineteen stone and a size twenty/twenty-two I was far from happy, at least in my body. Living off of beige food groups and turkey dinosaurs was not ideal either and since Mr. Workaholic refused to eat any sort of vegetable and saw bananas as the only fruit he would stomach (What a surprise that they were also beige in colour) it was very difficult to cook for someone so fussy. Towards the end of my relationship with Mr. Workaholic's things started to get mean and nasty and I suppose if I was really honest it would have been not that long after we moved to Northampton. The name calling and lack of compliments drove me from being a confident and cocky tween to a shy and anxious girl, always worried about her weight and that one day her boyfriend would feel repulsed enough by her that he would leave. And one day he did. I mean granted he didn't leave on the basis that I was larger than when we first met but I could tell that he had not felt attracted to me in sometime, or at least that is how it felt. 

Separating from Mr. Workaholic was hellish and a time that I can rarely recall anything happening at all, but I do remember my weekly meetings at WeightWatchers and how shocked the lady was when I made yet another big loss on the scales. When I was asked what my secret was or how I had lost all the weight I joked with my fellow fat fighters that in a dark way when the love of your life just up's and leaves you with no real reason or explanation, leaving behind just a whole lot of heartache and mess to clear up it soon puts you off food. And just as I started consuming more than caffeine and water on a daily basis I was hit with another bomb shell. Mr. Workaholic was seeing someone else, and it had been less than a fortnight. Not only that but whilst I was recovering from shock in Southern Ireland with my Aunt and Uncle, Mr. Workaholic was swanning round Newcastle, jumping from bed to bed I heard. 

After my weight plummeted to nearly what I was before I met Mr. Workaholic, I started feeling better about myself. I had new love interests, a new outlook on life and I was twenty-one. The perfect mix of young and throwaway yet knowing what I was doing. The next few years I fluctuated but always stayed around the fifteen stone mark, always being able to comfortably fit into a size fourteen/sixteen. But as the years went by and I finally got my very own flat in Bedford I got into bad habits and poor diet choices, although still walking most places I would always keep the belly off a little. 

Since meeting Mr. Warehouse though and especially over the last year since we moved in together I have only felt and seen my size increase. I can now only dream of fitting into a size eighteen let alone a size fourteen or sixteen. I am now so unhappy with my weight that I honestly need to start doing something about it. My clothes don't fit properly and I have a wardrobe full of lovely jumpers, jeans and tops that I just look like a sack of potatoes in. My arms are too fat and my belly is protruding more than my tits at present. Although I joke about it with friends and family, it starts to become a real concern when the arms of your office chair start to get tighter and tighter. 

So after I get paid on Wednesday (Thank fuck, it seems like an age since I last got paid) I will be hitting the classes hard. Sod Gyms and their expensive memberships, I am going to start getting into classes and swimming. FitSteps, Zumba, Clubbercise and Aquarobics; I'm trying them all! Healthy eating too, I have started thinking even before I go shopping now what sort of food will be better for me and for my darling Mr. Warehouse. More Veg, more moving and less beige. Before I know it I will be looking better than I ever have before and feel much more happier that I don't have to shop only in the plus size range. Besides, I can't be looking like a blob on the beach with Mr. Warehouse in August can I ... ?

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx