Perverse I know but here goes nothing:
1) Two seats on the bus.
Nobody ever used to sit next to me on public transport. Granted it's because I needed one and a half, oh alright one and three quarter seats to fit my arse into but it was nice knowing I wasn't going to be joined by a stranger all up in my space.
Nowadays I have reached that skinny tipping point whereby other fatties feel comfortable in sitting next to me which always has the affect of making me think '88 Two Fat Ladies'….
2) Never having to worry about what to wear.
It never even crossed my mind in the mornings about what clothes I should wear that day because I only had one pair of trousers and two tops that fitted. They weren't even tops, they were 'smocks' (fashion speak for 'circus tent big fatty muumuu' naturally) and I had a mint green one or a dark green one. Oooh choices.
Now my wardrobe offers me a range of choice, still on the conservative jeans plus top scheme of things, but it also means I have to *think* about my appearance. Ugh. Plus the slimmer I get the more people keep expecting me to indulge in *actual* fashion items and those hideous inventions called SKIRTS.
3) Appearing invisible.
I was a goddamn mess when I was at my heaviest but it didn't matter because for most parts I was invisible. Excepting those braindead morons who felt it was their duty to shout abuse because of the size of my booty I went about my daily life without really registering with people. I'm sure there were people giving me pitiful looks left right and centre but I never noticed, so wrapped up was I in my little bubble.
Now though it is as if I've suddenly reappeared for a lot of the population, now I am just 'fat' as opposed to 'fucking massive' I register, I matter. I see people looking at me in both good and bad ways and whereas before on the very rare occasions it happened I always instinctively knew they were thinking 'look at that fat bitch', now I'm left wondering if I have lipstick on my teeth or something in my hair or whether it's just the size of my bottom (again).
Getting used to people looking at me has been, and continues to be, the hardest part about all of this. Oh to be invisible again.
Yep, you knew they'd figure somewhere huh? When I was busy being a Shamu lookalike men weren't on my radar because let's face it, who wants to *pork* a fatty let alone *date* one. On the very rare occasions men approached me I always knew instantly that I was being regarded as the winning bet in a 'Pull A Pig' competition and so kept them at arms length and treated them very warily before going home and devouring the contents of the fridge in tears.
Unfortunately now I'm trapped in this bizarre world where, even though I'm not exactly svelte, I could potentially be attractive to an actual human being rather than a knuckle dragging wanker with too much time on his hands. The question is, how do I separate the two? How am I supposed to know when a man is being genuine or when he's trying to win the big prize?
It was much easier when I was able to disregard all men as 'not being interested' by default because of my size. Now I have to do things like 'read the signs', 'trust the process' and 'go with the flow'…. An unmitigated nightmare I'm sure you'll agree.
So there it is. I'm not for one second saying I want to go back to being 32stone, god no. I am saying that actually, being slimmer comes way far many more challenges than I ever imagined….