So its January, and everyone and their mother is trying to desperately shed the winter blubber... the endless cream and mince pies and rum and port and "just one more" of Christmas. I'm not the only one, I know this. I'm just back from a week in the sun and had an extended Christmas indulgence period. I decided to start a blog about my journey because I wanted to be incredibly honest about it. A lot of 'get healthy' blogs end up either a dumping ground for people getting their cravings off their chests and complaining about the shit they have to eat in order to get skinny, or evangelical food faddists or fitness junkies who are entirely unrelatable. And when you are sitting, blob-fish like on the couch, a tanned, beautiful, ripped Goddess body just seems pretty fucking unattainable. Believe me, I have spent my days endlessly trawling through websites and blogs and weight loss tips and fitness advice... and I used to follow it pretty religiously.
Everyone has an excuse. Mine is that I tore my achilles tendon and basically had to sit for almost 4 months. I fell out of the habit of exercise. I ate and drank to while away the endless evenings sitting on the couch with my leg up. I became pretty depressed. I piled on the weight.
I have been a burlesque performer for 5 years, and its a fabulous, body-positive thing to do - for the most part. Most of the world of burlesque is incredibly welcoming of women of all shapes and sizes, which is what attracted me to it. But - and its a big but (excuse the pun) - even at my skinniest, I had people gush over my curves and real-woman body and wasnt I amazing to be representing 'normal' women and curvy girls. This was when I was surviving on approx. 1 kale leaf per day and living in the gym. Sparkling water? No thanks, can't afford the calories. This was when I was tiny. Over the years I loosened up my type-A behaviour around food and exercise. Getting a dog was a big part of that - I couldnt spend all night in the gym and leave my other half to do all the work. And so I got a little less lean and a little doughier. And that was fine, I was a nice size, had boobs and a bum and wasnt hideous in clothes. Not much more you can ask for.
My problem isnt with weight in general and I am not a size nazi at all. I do not prefer to be skin and bone. I would never want to be like that. I think girls with all size bodies are beautiful. Burlesque was a wonderful place where you could see all kinds of bodies being celebrated and one of the most brilliant things about burlesque is the gorgeousness of all shapes and sizes of women.
My problem is my this: my body does not like being any larger than my normal size. I do not become a voluptuous, wanton curve-goddess. I do not become a rounder, sexier verssion of myself. I do not miraculously look like Nigella or Dirty Martini (holy momma). I look at girls who are considered plus size and would step over my own mother for their bodies. My body rebels in the most ludicrous of proportion-crushing ways.
Once I go one stone over where I normally am, the following things happen:
- I get a HUGE double chin - a horrible, jowly affair where I look in the mirror and see nothing else. At my normal weight this does not exist. But after 5 chips and a bottle of red wine, there she blows. My face becomes rotund like the surface of the moon... as if someone has stuck a bicycle pump in my ear and went to town.... any semblance of cheekbones disappear and have to be painted on....
- . 99% of the weight appears on my stomach. I dont get a rounder arse or fuller breasts (well I do a bit by law of overall body mass increase) It is impossible to find any clothes that arent a mumu which do anything to disguise this. The rest of my body remains in proportion - by stomach becomes its own Michelin man or Stay Puft marshmallow man.
This is the horrible part. In the past few months I have had serious social anxiety about how I look. Ive been scared to go out sometimes. I've more or less stopped performing because I'm ashamed of my body, and Im ashamed to be writing that Im ashamed of my body and Im ashamed that this shame makes me a bad feminist. And it's a big icky messy feedback loop of shame where I end it by lie on the couch and eat cheese puffs and cadburys marvellous creations.
I really want to get back to my normal size. I'm not going to blog about sizes, or inches, or anything like that. Every girl has got her perfect size. For the naturally rail-thin its one size, for the more generous figured its another. Its the size you look and feel best at. Its the size where people say 'you look well!'. I want to get back to my 'I look well size'. I will not be number crunching here. I might say: Ive lost a few inches, or my clothes are fitting again (please baby Jesus let my clothes fit again! I have an Alexander McQueen top I bought for €45 in a charity shop that I have not yet been able to wear... this is my goal top!)
This blog will be about my journey to my normal, 'nice', 'just right' or 'good enough, fuck it I'm having a wheel of cheese' - size. Im going to blog about what I eat, how I'm feeling, new exercise and fitness regimes I'll be following, classes I'm taking and generally if any of it is working. Sometimes I'll fail and sit on the couch and eat cheese puffs and cadburys marvellous creations. But not all the time. And I think positive action, even some of the time, will make me feel a lot better.
Everyone has an excuse. Mine is that I tore my achilles tendon and basically had to sit for almost 4 months. I fell out of the habit of exercise. I ate and drank to while away the endless evenings sitting on the couch with my leg up. I became pretty depressed. I piled on the weight.
I have been a burlesque performer for 5 years, and its a fabulous, body-positive thing to do - for the most part. Most of the world of burlesque is incredibly welcoming of women of all shapes and sizes, which is what attracted me to it. But - and its a big but (excuse the pun) - even at my skinniest, I had people gush over my curves and real-woman body and wasnt I amazing to be representing 'normal' women and curvy girls. This was when I was surviving on approx. 1 kale leaf per day and living in the gym. Sparkling water? No thanks, can't afford the calories. This was when I was tiny. Over the years I loosened up my type-A behaviour around food and exercise. Getting a dog was a big part of that - I couldnt spend all night in the gym and leave my other half to do all the work. And so I got a little less lean and a little doughier. And that was fine, I was a nice size, had boobs and a bum and wasnt hideous in clothes. Not much more you can ask for.
My problem isnt with weight in general and I am not a size nazi at all. I do not prefer to be skin and bone. I would never want to be like that. I think girls with all size bodies are beautiful. Burlesque was a wonderful place where you could see all kinds of bodies being celebrated and one of the most brilliant things about burlesque is the gorgeousness of all shapes and sizes of women.
My problem is my this: my body does not like being any larger than my normal size. I do not become a voluptuous, wanton curve-goddess. I do not become a rounder, sexier verssion of myself. I do not miraculously look like Nigella or Dirty Martini (holy momma). I look at girls who are considered plus size and would step over my own mother for their bodies. My body rebels in the most ludicrous of proportion-crushing ways.
Once I go one stone over where I normally am, the following things happen:
- I get a HUGE double chin - a horrible, jowly affair where I look in the mirror and see nothing else. At my normal weight this does not exist. But after 5 chips and a bottle of red wine, there she blows. My face becomes rotund like the surface of the moon... as if someone has stuck a bicycle pump in my ear and went to town.... any semblance of cheekbones disappear and have to be painted on....
- . 99% of the weight appears on my stomach. I dont get a rounder arse or fuller breasts (well I do a bit by law of overall body mass increase) It is impossible to find any clothes that arent a mumu which do anything to disguise this. The rest of my body remains in proportion - by stomach becomes its own Michelin man or Stay Puft marshmallow man.
This is the horrible part. In the past few months I have had serious social anxiety about how I look. Ive been scared to go out sometimes. I've more or less stopped performing because I'm ashamed of my body, and Im ashamed to be writing that Im ashamed of my body and Im ashamed that this shame makes me a bad feminist. And it's a big icky messy feedback loop of shame where I end it by lie on the couch and eat cheese puffs and cadburys marvellous creations.
I really want to get back to my normal size. I'm not going to blog about sizes, or inches, or anything like that. Every girl has got her perfect size. For the naturally rail-thin its one size, for the more generous figured its another. Its the size you look and feel best at. Its the size where people say 'you look well!'. I want to get back to my 'I look well size'. I will not be number crunching here. I might say: Ive lost a few inches, or my clothes are fitting again (please baby Jesus let my clothes fit again! I have an Alexander McQueen top I bought for €45 in a charity shop that I have not yet been able to wear... this is my goal top!)
This blog will be about my journey to my normal, 'nice', 'just right' or 'good enough, fuck it I'm having a wheel of cheese' - size. Im going to blog about what I eat, how I'm feeling, new exercise and fitness regimes I'll be following, classes I'm taking and generally if any of it is working. Sometimes I'll fail and sit on the couch and eat cheese puffs and cadburys marvellous creations. But not all the time. And I think positive action, even some of the time, will make me feel a lot better.
POSTSCRIPT: BEFORE HITTING PUBLISH I WORRIED EVERYONE WOULD JUDGE ME AND THEN ATE SOME LEFTOVER POTATO CURRY. I'm probably just going to have to take the plunge.
Im with you. Also stopped performing and worrying about nights out and socialising attire.
ReplyDeleteMy body does the very same with the chin and the belly too.
Decided it was about time I stopped feeling sorry for myself too and act. Im with you all the way!
Youre so very brave in your honesty. I have no doubt if you stay positive and love your body, even if it's not how you want it to look, then you will succeed. Forget the judges this is a very relatable post for everyone.
ReplyDelete