An avid reader of this blog, it is great to be able to have the opportunity to appear as a guest writer. It almost makes me feel famous!…
When invited to do this, I thought long and hard about what I could say. How could I match up to the satirical wit that is our Long Tall Ally? I mean, Short, squat Lorns doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it?
However, the way I see it, we all have our very own ‘tales from the scales’. For me, it’s been a lifelong battle, I am like Oprah, but without the TV show and huge salary.
I worked out tonight that in my life I have been on 37 diets. I remember once just eating hot dogs out of a tin with a side of beetroot. I have joined Slimming World, Weight Watchers, and Rosemary what’s her face, and once even went to a dance class at Pineapple Dance Studio. It was mirrored, I was in hell, enough said. So 37 diets, which is one diet a year for the whole of my life! Even my recent dalliance with breast cancer made me wonder if somehow, as a fringe benefit, I could lose some of the chubb. Instead though, all I got was ‘ROID RAGE’ – pumped full of steroids which made the water sit on the fat and make me look even more like a sumo wrestler, but at least this time round, I really didn’t care as it meant I was getting better right? Woo hoo.
Yeah, so I mentioned the breast cancer then? Also known as boobie C, bad boobie, bastard boobie and boobies with attitude. Being diagnosed with this put everything into perspective. It suddenly makes you realise that life is happening whilst worrying about the size of your arse. I had a bigger fear, a bigger worry. It seems extreme but the day I was diagnosed I remember saying ‘Dear God, I will never bitch about myself or anyone again as long as I am OK’. Seriously though, the joker upstairs realised that this could never be the case and so a boobie chop was on the cards, along with chemo and radio gaga and more of the same. Lather rinse repeat…
I realise this isn’t a laugh a minute post, but I have never actually written about this in this way before. I am not even sure you will end up reading it. Cancer suddenly threw any worry about my big hips, my massive boobs, and my chubby arms into perspective. They may have been chubby but they were mine! I would even go as far to say that I now embrace the curves, I look forward to my breast reconstruction, I get excited about my hair growing, I love life again. I love myself at last. It’s a shame it took cancer to do that, but salvation comes in many shapes and forms.
I just read this out to D. The man who has been at my side throughout my illness. He has just told me that he doesn’t see ‘any of that’ – when he looks at me, he just sees me. That’s pretty cool eh.
I am not saying that I will never moan about my chubbiness again, that never will I look longingly at the low cut number in Reiss and wail ‘IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME’, but what I have now is perspective, family, friends, and hope.
Indeed, it seems the future is peachy – or maybe that’s just my arse?