When I was 25 I went on a diet , a proper one, where I stuck to a certain weight loss plan , I attended meetings where all we talked about was food and I jumped around a cold sports hall in the name of Zumba on a Sunday morning.
And I lost all of 3.6lb in four months. The leader of the certain weight loss plan suggested I go and visit my GP. And it was here my journey to PCOS (poly cystic ovary syndrome) began. It’s not so much the PCOS that’s relevant to my journey But a statement from the doctor on that first visit might be something that holds me back and makes me think I have an excuse.
It isn’t easy to go into a doctors little room and say ‘the thing is I am fat, I’m on a diet honestly I am, and I’m not losing weight can you help?’ Also mr doctor I’ve got these long black hairs growing at the speed of light out of my chin. To the point where I carry a set of tweezers in a pouch in my bra (and there were a few near misses I can tell you!) I sat in front of this man and told him my woes and you know what he said
‘ some women are just fat and have hairy chins, you may have to accept that you are one of them’
yep that’s right he actually said your fat and hairy get on with it. So I did what any self -respecting woman would do I turned to him and said ‘ brilliant , you’ve you been most helpful’ and I went home and my husband did the only thing he could and that was to get me a bottle of wine and a Chinese.
Obviously I went to another doctor got a proper diagnosis and went on with my life.
I know the part about hairy chins to be true, there is a hair out there fondly called Spike, he comes to visit one of my friends fairly often, there’s also the mystery of how they grow so fast, and I believe Adele may have a beard called Larry.
But what has stuck with me is this comment and how it’s stayed with me engrained in my mind and when I’m finding it tough and a kebab is calling I kind of let myself off the hook because maybe I’m meant to be fat. I’ve always been called ,curvy, voluptuous or in the words of my actual husband ‘a chubby little angel’. There are other comments too like the time my sister shouted at me across the clothes rails in New Look ‘ you’ve lost your fashion sense’ or the time one of my male friends told me he was shocked that my England football top still fitted me 4 years after the World Cup.
Bearing in mind I don’t think any of these people, including that delightful doctor ,realised that they have left me with these words swirling around every time I struggle or have a lapse.
I would also put my Jimmy Choos on whoever is reading this could write me a list of all the comments or engrained words that go round their heads in these moments , it doesn’t have to be about weight, it might be a facial feature, a scar, or a choice of clothes.
The power of words is so crucial in how we view ourselves and what we believe to be true. So I’m going to do a little experiment.
I’m going to try telling myself I am beautiful or I look nice or that a colour suits me anything , just something positive everyday to see if that works the same.
I am going to open up my ears to positives, if someone says anything nice about me I am going to write it down and I’ll post it on here in a weeks time. Then maybe these comments will boot the horrid ones up the behind.
Your chubby little angel X
(ps I seem to have only been to the gym twice in the past two weeks but have managed to eat a whole Easter egg, must try harder 😘)