Ah now previously I mentioned a wedding and I feel it’s only right to explain how the best day of my life was in fact the ugliest of my life.
Now before I start lets get one-thing clear (isn’t that a song , boom shake the room I believe) I loved my wedding day, I married my soulmate whilst carrying my daughter , in the womb I might add ,not as a bouquet, surround by the people I love the most. Enough of the mush because here comes the killer.
On my wedding day no one said to me `you look stunning` because I didn’t. In fact when I walked down the stairs in front of my family I heard `you look like something out of gypsy wedding` thanks dad! No tears from people just the mundane you look lovely, you look great blah de blah.
So you see I feel a little bit robbed. In my eyes your wedding is supposed to be your wow moment, your I know I look better than any of these other birds kinda moment. But I felt nothing but hideous.
Call me shallow but I wanted that on my wedding day, for me that was part of the plan. Instead I got the call of the cloak of invisibility and the dreaded knowledge that my bridesmaids actually looked better than me.
I even had a little spat at the photographer, she couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to go and pose for a million photos, I blamed the pregnancy but really I wanted to scream at her `no photos because I look like a chubby turtle playing dress up` How do you make someone understand your happier than you’ve ever been but you loathe your appearance.
If I am correct it’s about now people are shouting at the screen saying, I don’t believe her , every bride is beautiful . Well we all know that isn’t true, come on admit it you’ve been to a wedding and done that `oh` sound when you see the bride in her dress because you were expecting to say wow!
So part of my journey is going to find my wow moment. When that cloak comes off I want the reaction I denied myself of on my wedding day
I wander how much it costs to renew your vows………..
Before we can ride the stormy sea of acceptance and stop the self loathing I guess I should take you back to the start. I’ve never been what I would describe as a `Top shop` girl, skinny jeans and uber fashion sense but someone once described me as a better side of average and I took that and ran. Confidence was never an issue and when I look back on my twenties I think I bordered on being a bit arrogant and a bit fabulous. You see when your happy in your skin and you look in the mirror and give yourself an 8 out of 10 you conduct yourself differently. I had just the right balance of cheek, flirt and down right nerve. Now this my darlings had its up side, free drinks , never having to carry heavy shopping, the IT desk on call at work to name a few.
Don’t get me wrong it has its down sides but at my current beach ball state I’m finding it hard to recall.
Then the pounds began to pile on, and I found no one was telling me I looked nice anymore, no compliments, it was harder to get someone to help with a heavy box and when you look in the mirror and your fake tan doesn’t even fit any more you know that the cloak of invisibility has really wrapped it’s ugly , polyester beige arms around you and got you for life. (3 years 2 months for me now)
Your clothes become boring, baggy and teamed with leggings and your make up once so treasured seems pointless, I switched from high end brands of everything to the cheapest I could find ( although seriously this didn’t last long) A friend said to me only recently ` I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wearing flat shoes for so long` yes and this my reader is the cruelest trick of all the cloak of invisibility prohibits the wearing of stilettos. My once wardrobe staple. Because after all fat people fall of stilettos right?
It’s this invisibility I that consumes you, and I’m sure I’ll loose a few feminist friends here, but I liked being wolf whistled at. I liked being visible and people giving me compliments and I loved being fabulous!
I want it back ……….
It’s taken me 3 months and a cheeseburger happy meal to come up with the name `once upon a fatty` quite ironic really when this is meant to be a serious blog that deals with the emotional voyage of a 33 year old who quite frankly got fat! Since I was last slim, there’s been a baby, a wedding, an illness and a cloak of invisibility that I am desperate to shake off. So here it begins a journey not to get slim or be a size zero, but a journey back to happiness. So grab a kebab or a coconut water and join me…..
(ps, I can’t take any credit for that amazing photo, it did however make me think that it could be the thin bird bursting out of me )