Gemma was larger and appeared more awkward than me and I immediately recognised signs that told me she wasn't comfortable in her own skin. A good two stones heavier than me, she hid beneath a crinkly, over-sized t-shirt which did nothing to disguise her double-barrelled breasts. Her shiny lycra leggings strained to contain her potato shaped thighs – the woman was a complete mess. The constant tugging and rearranging of her t-shirt told me that she was embarrassed by her size.
Gemma's dark oily hair was scraped back into a stubby ponytail which, trapped by a bright pink scrunchie, she'd fashioned into a lop-sided question mark. Her chin was lost in the collars of flesh that adorned her neck; her uncared for complexion was exposed for the world to see. Make-up free and wearing her middle-aged cloak of invisibility, she pottered about the charity shop oblivious to my gaze. I could tell she felt the ghost of her younger years.
As she browsed the rack of musty size 18s, she finally became aware of me and shot a quick smile in my direction. That was how we first met; the bitch in me wanted her for my friend and looking back I realise, to my undying shame - I didn't deserve her.
Towards the end of the morning we arranged to meet up for coffee and cakes. As we sat chatting in the cafe, perched on creaking patio chairs, we decided to join forces and visit the local weight watching club together. We really did mean business, our weight had now become a serious issue for us both, but not wanting to take on too much too soon, we planned to visit the fatties club in 10 days time. In the meantime we'd meet again for coffee and cakes. I liked Gemma, but at the point of establishing this new friendship I wasn’t aware of my own loneliness; my sole purpose for befriending Gemma was to feel less fat. Sitting next to her on that first day made me feel like a goddess.
That evening, whilst removing my make-up, I noticed Hanson lurking in the corner. I was aching to get his feedback on my day. However, due to my gluttony at this afternoon's cream cake session, I was unsure how he'd respond, so I took the executive decision to punish him - and totally ignored him - he'd have to wait until tomorrow to cast his professional eye over me.
Thursday, 11 June 2009
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
Day 2 - Jim - Just One of my Ex's!
To kick-start my diet I'd hardly eaten a thing yesterday and so with that in mind, I couldn't resist visiting Hanson again this morning. He was lounging in the same place I'd left him and without wanting to disturb him too much; I awkwardly positioned myself on the extreme hardness of body. His reaction was immediate and he sprung to life before sleepily scanning my body. Without speaking a word I could see the disappointment in his eyes and with a blink he sent out his unspoken message: 13st 11lbs (up 1 lb since yesterday). He wanted to say more; but I wouldn't let him and turning my back on the traitor, I left.
To be honest, I knew I had to try harder with Hanson, yet with an uncontrollable urge, I started to dream about the other wondrous relationships I'd had in the past. What had happened to Jim for example, I'd loved him at one time but his personal visits were costing me a fortune. He had become very high-maintenance. Despite this I wondered if he would still be interested in me looking like I do. I’d dumped him a few years ago as he was becoming such a pain; the pressure of constantly trying to improve my physique to meet his high standards became nothing more than a daily chore. At the time I had serious self esteem issues and I initially thought that by hooking up with Jim it would help... it didn't. He was always such a poser, standing there in his tanned, well toned, designer labelled body, one eye on the mirror the other on any other semi-reflective surface.
To begin with everything was great and I couldn't get enough of him. He promised me that if I stuck with him I'd have a body to be proud of. I really did work at our relationship for a while... well just a few weeks really, but it didn't take long before I became tired of him and started to make any excuse not to see him. He was too much like hard work, I also realised that I didn't have him to myself as he clearly had interests in other women; I would never be his one-and-only. His other lady friends were all streamlined, young and fit. Take Sasha for instance, 22, stick-thin and blonde. She attracted looks from every male within strumming distance of her ribs.
So, I decided to formulate an action plan, firstly I needed to latch onto a female who was fatter and uglier than me to make me feel totally gorgeous again. It was around this time I first noticed Gemma.
To be honest, I knew I had to try harder with Hanson, yet with an uncontrollable urge, I started to dream about the other wondrous relationships I'd had in the past. What had happened to Jim for example, I'd loved him at one time but his personal visits were costing me a fortune. He had become very high-maintenance. Despite this I wondered if he would still be interested in me looking like I do. I’d dumped him a few years ago as he was becoming such a pain; the pressure of constantly trying to improve my physique to meet his high standards became nothing more than a daily chore. At the time I had serious self esteem issues and I initially thought that by hooking up with Jim it would help... it didn't. He was always such a poser, standing there in his tanned, well toned, designer labelled body, one eye on the mirror the other on any other semi-reflective surface.
To begin with everything was great and I couldn't get enough of him. He promised me that if I stuck with him I'd have a body to be proud of. I really did work at our relationship for a while... well just a few weeks really, but it didn't take long before I became tired of him and started to make any excuse not to see him. He was too much like hard work, I also realised that I didn't have him to myself as he clearly had interests in other women; I would never be his one-and-only. His other lady friends were all streamlined, young and fit. Take Sasha for instance, 22, stick-thin and blonde. She attracted looks from every male within strumming distance of her ribs.
So, I decided to formulate an action plan, firstly I needed to latch onto a female who was fatter and uglier than me to make me feel totally gorgeous again. It was around this time I first noticed Gemma.
Tuesday, 9 June 2009
Day 1 - Me & Hanson
I stepped semi-naked onto the cold, unyielding body of my so-called friend. Today was the day I was attempting to rekindle my long-lost relationship. With embarrassed hands I covered my face whilst I balanced on one foot, hoping to control Hanson’s response. I took a deep breath and looked down the length of my body into the face of my neglected friend. With cold, unblinking eyes he threw back a hard faced stare; at that moment I realised I was now looking into the face of my enemy. Not so long ago we were inseparable and yet now, Hanson's hatred of me was plain to see.
It was only 9 months or so ago we first met. Obviously I’d had other relationships; however most of them felt slightly off-balance to me. Hanson was different, he was fresh, fairly inexperienced yet perfectly in tune with himself; I took full advantage of what he had to offer.
I had to admit that the breakdown in all my previous Hanson-type relationships had been totally down to me. To be honest, I often felt I was too good for them; I was over-flowing with gorgeousness, my life was great and I just didn’t care.
It's been nine months since I last sighted Hanson and during that time I’ve become a completely different person. Three words describe how it feels living inside my body: old, fat and ugly! In fact six words are better than three, so add these to the list: depressed, tired and lonely. I desperately want Hanson to respect me again, but whilst carrying all my extra baggage he now had the upper hand - and he knew it!
I knew I’d been steadily gaining weight but had chosen to ignore my bulging waistline. Clothes that had once been loose on me had all appeared to have suddenly shrunk in the wash. I’d begun taking a liking to elastic-waisted combats and was now the sad owner of several pairs or size 18s. These had become my uniform, along with a selection of size 20 tops. Not that I am size 20 you understand, I just prefer their slack fit and the fact that they disguise the double roll of blubber I carry around my waist. At 43 I’ve lost count of the battles I’ve had with my weight; but just recently I decided that the fat war still wasn’t over and I am now planning to begin my final crusade.
My encounter with Hanson was brief this morning as today he says I'm too heavy. At 13st 10lbs with a BMI of 30.9 his face sneered "Obese". He is so brutal.
So here I am, starting a journey I’ve travelled so many times before; on the slow train from Lardsville. Excitement has replaced all fear. I’ve nothing to lose. I finally admitted to myself that I wanted to revive the potentially lost relationship between myself and Hanson, which until today at least, I had fond memories of.
It was only 9 months or so ago we first met. Obviously I’d had other relationships; however most of them felt slightly off-balance to me. Hanson was different, he was fresh, fairly inexperienced yet perfectly in tune with himself; I took full advantage of what he had to offer.
I had to admit that the breakdown in all my previous Hanson-type relationships had been totally down to me. To be honest, I often felt I was too good for them; I was over-flowing with gorgeousness, my life was great and I just didn’t care.
It's been nine months since I last sighted Hanson and during that time I’ve become a completely different person. Three words describe how it feels living inside my body: old, fat and ugly! In fact six words are better than three, so add these to the list: depressed, tired and lonely. I desperately want Hanson to respect me again, but whilst carrying all my extra baggage he now had the upper hand - and he knew it!
I knew I’d been steadily gaining weight but had chosen to ignore my bulging waistline. Clothes that had once been loose on me had all appeared to have suddenly shrunk in the wash. I’d begun taking a liking to elastic-waisted combats and was now the sad owner of several pairs or size 18s. These had become my uniform, along with a selection of size 20 tops. Not that I am size 20 you understand, I just prefer their slack fit and the fact that they disguise the double roll of blubber I carry around my waist. At 43 I’ve lost count of the battles I’ve had with my weight; but just recently I decided that the fat war still wasn’t over and I am now planning to begin my final crusade.
My encounter with Hanson was brief this morning as today he says I'm too heavy. At 13st 10lbs with a BMI of 30.9 his face sneered "Obese". He is so brutal.
So here I am, starting a journey I’ve travelled so many times before; on the slow train from Lardsville. Excitement has replaced all fear. I’ve nothing to lose. I finally admitted to myself that I wanted to revive the potentially lost relationship between myself and Hanson, which until today at least, I had fond memories of.
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