Remember all the good times we had?
You crept into my life at a time when everything else was spiralling out of control.
You told me I could control my weight.
And I did.
You told me it would make everything better.
And it didn't.
Remember when I bought that red, strapless dress for New Years Eve?
It was a size 6 and I had to have it taken in.
|Covering my 'fat gut' in photos.|
But, with hearts racing at the thought of having to eat, we learnt to lie.
We pretended we'd already eaten, we nibbled and slyly shoved food onto other plates, we faked illnesses, we moved around the table or became very 'helpful' when food appeared, we spent a lot of time in the toilets.
|Jumper around my waist to |
coverthat 'big butt'.
I would pass out at the worst locations/moments because you had encouraged me to starve myself to 'earn' those drinks.
If I didn't pass out - the alcohol would numb you.
I loved this - and hated it.
I would eat an entire fridge full of food at 3am - and you would punish me for it for weeks.
You wouldn't even leave me alone on my travels.
|A 'fat' day. Even though you could |
drive a truck through my legs.
Cornflakes (with a little bit of skim milk-our staple meal once a day) make me shudder and the memories of angrily pinching at non existent fat rolls make me shake my head in disbelief. The scales and I are still working it out, unfortunately on a daily basis.
I'm so grateful that I finally realised that you are a liar.
A clever, manipulative liar who capitalised on my perfectionsim in a time of weakness.
We shall never be acquainted, let alone friends, again.
Not that you would recognise me now anyway.
The times, they have changed.
I wear a good twelve kilos more now than when we hung out.
I run for pleasure, not punishment.
My digestive system has rejoined the workforce around here.
I couldn't tell you the calorie content of any foods anymore.
I make - and eat - honey joys with Cornflakes these days.
I'm woken in the night by my Hubby's snoring, not my rumbling tummy.
And these days I actually run marathons instead of just looking like I have.
Yours in disgust,
I'm pretty sure I saw you
Leave her the hell alone.
She has better things to do with these precious years than weigh every single person she sees with her mind's eye.