Possibly the most unflattering, yet entirely accurate, photograph of me at my biggest that exists. When I say ‘at my biggest’, this is merely an assumption; I have no idea what weight I was in the picture, but I’d imagine it’s around the twenty / twenty one stone mark. It was taken at a wedding in June 2007, the month I left The Bank. I loved working in The Bank. For the five years I was there, I had the best time ever. I’d go so far as to say that it was the happiest time of my life – work, friends, money, independence, respect…….bla bla. Being fat never really came into it, but then again, I think my personality was always bigger than I was – if that’s possible!! The nightclub could be a bit of a nightmare at times however, and I did get my fair share of abuse; but it was usually more geared towards my sexuality, not my size. It’s weird, I would much rather be called a queer than be called fat. I genuinely believe that ‘fat’ is the most hurtful insult that can be hurled at someone. I’m guilty of it too, though I know it’s massively hypocritical of me to call anyone fat.
So why is it so hurtful? I guess it’s because of the connotations involved. Fat has been intrinsically linked with being lazy, being stupid, being weak willed and greedy. You can’t change skin colour, sexual orientation (open to debate naturally), or nationality – but you can lose weight. I was neither lazy nor stupid, but I am guilty of being weak willed and greedy! I just love food. And when I do something I like, I do it constantly – a slightly addictive personality perhaps! More on that later.
When people congratulate me on the weightloss, I find it hard to take the compliment, because of photos like this. I should never have been that size. It held me back in so many respects in life, and there’s nothing I can do about that. I’m almost thirty, and I’ve only started doing the things I should have been doing all through my teens and twenties. What a waste. I must say though, I had a fantastic journey towards 21 stone! The fun I had indulging! That needs a whole separate post, which will be entitled ‘Food Porn’ – watch this space. For a variety of reasons, I left The Bank on June 1st 2007, and I thought I was going to have the time of my life. A hard earned rest after five years of intensely enjoyable, but exhausting, work. In reality, I simply had an extra 60 odd hours a week to realise how much of a mess I’d made of myself, and how ashamed I was of myself.
DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN TO YOU!
You can turn it around, you just have to try. Try until you find the plan that fits you, and then enjoy the journey that takes you towards photos to be proud of.
Toddles for now,
P.S. I’m the one on the extreme left of the picture, just in case you’re not sure.