After smashing on 10kg when I was 12 and then another 10 kilo when I was 13, I was horrified with my reflection. I spent the next few years of teenager-hood depriving myself during the school week and then bingeing on Friday night. A whole packet of Caramel Crowns and I were good friends. My giant ass and I were not good friends. The boys at school used to call me stumps.
When I was 15 I started to explore my spirituality. I learnt how to tune into by body and listen. Strange things started happening. I would be fixing myself some toast with Grandpas homemade jam, have a bite, and realise I actually wasn’t hungry enough to finish it. Every bite of a chocolate bar tasted like fatty calories, and white rice felt, well, empty.
My eating habits changed. I started to eat regular sensible meals. I was still tortured by my heavyset body, and longed for a boy to find me attractive. Slowly though, with sensible and natural eating I had lost 10kg or so by the time I turned 17 and when I turned 18, I had lost the other 10. I was 162cm and 53kg. And in the end it was pretty much effortless. I hadn’t even kept a regular exercise routine. God bless 17 year old metabolism! I was shaking the boys off every time I left the house.
The next 6 years after leaving high school were a breeze. I enrolled in a BA, pursued the theater, and then subsequently dropped out after realising I hadn’t attended enough classes to pass my first semester. I went of a spur of the moment road-trip with my best friend and ended up working in a backpackers in Byron Bay for four months. I lived and worked in Melbourne, was run over by a car, shattered my ankle (on Friday the 13 June…spooky). I recovered and made my way back to Byron Bay where I played with crystals and discovered my strong intuition for massage. I snowboarded a season at Mt Buller and met my now husband at the Kooroora hotel.
This entire time my relationship with food was effortless and I remained slight, though I must say being a cigarette smoking vegan might have had something to do with it. Thank god those devil sticks are banished from my life.
We moved to Perth, Andrew and I adopted a puppy-child named Jim, and we lived a very happy little family life. I was thrilled to fulfill my call to massage by studying Shiatsu Therapy during the evenings, as I worked an office job to pay the rent. Three years later Andy and I married in Lorne Victoria (near my place of birth). The day was perfect. I had no body hang-ups and in fact, I had consciously tried to put on a little weight before the wedding so my boobs would look good in my dress . This plan went out the window when I pretty much forgot to eat for the week prior to the big day, so busy was I.
Something changed after the wedding. I was 24, suffocating in my corporate job and eager to study for a career that I actually wanted. My husband was at a crossroads in his professional life, and on the verge of setting up his own business…but not sure if that was what he really wanted at the time. Things were uncertain. You know, they say the first year of marriage is the hardest, and I began to diet.
I wasn’t even overweight by any measure, but I could definitely be thinner, and I absolutely hated my legs, chubby little legs that they are (I say that with love). I severely restricted calories and would sit on the bus hungry and miserable comparing myself with all the girls on St Georges Terrace.
Then one day, I got sick of being hungry and just started to eat again. This was the first yo yo of my twenties. Loving being a new wife, I developed a huge love of cooking and especially baking. Within a few months I’d regained all weight I had shed earlier and added on a kg or two. I’d started an exercise routine, jogging in the park and on the beach with my dog. But even with the exercise I still put on weight. The running made me hungrier and served as a mental excuse to eat more then usual. This kind of behaviour went on for a few years, my diets, though healthy and nutritionally sound, were coupled with extreme sessions at the gym and calorie counting. I’d successfully get into my skinny jeans and celebrate regularly with champagne and raw desserts….continuously for several months. Whoops now the jeans don’t fit, and I’d actually put on a little extra. Repeat.
Everything changed in the weeks leading up to my 29th birthday. I was ridiculously fit, and time-consumingly counting every calorie. I’d lost 5kg within the previous two months and should have been feeling amazing. Suddenly a horrible and nightmarish trauma for my family back at home and a separate personal trauma for me in Perth hit in the same week, and on the cusp of leaving my security blanket job. I was shocked, devastated and gutted all at the same time. I realised I had been chasing a grueling illusion. A banging bod doesn’t solve all your problems. My hot ass wasn’t going to make my life awesome, it’s just a hot ass. Sure, it helps, but it certainly doesn’t make you happy.
The months following my gym attendance …just….dropped….off. I had been a get-up-a-5.30-and-go-every-morning kind of girl. I used to proudly declare I would work out two hours a day if I had the time, but I just didn’t care anymore. The motivation was gone. I started yoga, and enjoying leisurely walks rather then runs. I ate whatever I felt like, I put on 8kg.
It’s been nearly 16 months since that traumatic December. At first, when my exercise motivation stopped, I thought it would come back “I’ll get back into it,” but then days, turned into weeks, turned into months, turned into a year. Though there have been a few moments when I felt bigger then I wanted to be, I feel I’ve slowly made peace with my pants. Maybe its helped by my age, 30 now, maybe by the security in my romantic relationship, but if anything good came out of that traumatic time in my life it’s that I now have a new kind of body comfort, a healthy, curvy, feminine shaped body comfort that won’t compare myself to others or stress over not looking like Miranda Kerr. It feels cruisy, easy, free, just how I like it.
I’ve actually been revisiting the gym recently, out of a want to maintain muscle mass, enhance my circulation, clear my mind and keep my skin young. There’s no guilt for missing a day, or even for leaving early. I’m giving myself some loving kindness, and my resultant peace of mind speaks volumes.
You are absolutely gorgeous, no matter what your size, and you completely deserve some loving kindness too. Love the one you’re with.. ….I’m talking about your body honey!. If you feel drawn to chat with a professional about your body love goals, don’t hesitate to drop me a line or pick up the phone.
Happy Avocados and Mega Melons
Me, being curvy, 63kg