Content note: body issues, fatphobia
So, like many people this year, I have spent lockdown sitting around eating snacks rather than getting off my arse and doing any kind of self-improvement. The lure of having unlimited skiving time was just too strong and without external motivation, I kinda turned into a sofa slug. Of course, the result has been that I’ve put on a load of weight. I was plump – approaching chubby before; now I’m definitely getting fat.
No matter how hard I suck my tummy in, I still have rolls – plural. My thighs look like a moonscape rendered in cellulite. My bum has lost its beautiful curve and turned lumpy with flab. I dislike my body right now – but apparently still not enough to either exercise or eat salad. Sigh. At least my boobs are still magnificent.
I love my mother dearly, but she’s a fatphobic extremist and has passed on a lot of that to me over the years. I can’t quite decide which is more hard work; therapy or exercise, but I’m going to have to do something because right now I don’t love my body – I’m ashamed of it. I know this is unhealthy, I know my lifestyle is unhealthy, I know all the psychological and physical reasons why I’m averse to exercise or a balanced diet. All I need is to translate knowing into doing.
If only it were as simple as that!
I spent an afternoon taking nudes and was disappointed at how many of them made me feel bad about my body rather than happy. I twisted and turned and stretched but it wasn’t until I accidentally made a heart shape with my curves that I remembered the real reason for taking nudes – not so that other people would look at me and think ‘phwoar’ but so I could look at myself and feel good about what I see. I changed tack and took some curve-positive snaps, which rescued my mood considerably.