Sometimes Black Isn’t Always Slimming

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I genuinely thought that the photo of me in the blue t shirt from 2007 was me at my fattest. How wrong was I? I found this……..delight whilst hoking through an old USB stick earlier today.

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It’s not great is it? I can’t believe the sheer bulk of me. The breadth, the width, the spherical quality of me in general. It was 2008 and I was in New York for the first time, and I was fairly happy because I had been to Slimming World and lost a stone.

Yes. I was a stone heavier than in this photo.

With all my obsessing about what I look like now, it’s easy to forget what I looked like then; and how different things are. I should be grateful, and quit yapping! But look what happens when I ignore stuff, and pretend there isn’t a problem. If my current obsession keeps me from looking like I’m about to sink Ellis Island, then maybe that’s a good thing!

It’s all about balance.

When I’m feeling fat these days, I still retreat to black tops and jeans, which is a good idea. Black is slimming, but when you’re over twenty one stone, nothing is. Harsh, I know.

The journey to twelve stone continues.

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