Monthly Archives: December 2015

We See YOU

Freeform thoughts, ,

nerves

So I was helping a friend do some interviewing last night, for a fairly important role in her business. That happens a lot when you work in human resources, you’re sort of seen as the oracle on all things people-related. It’s one of those professions where you try and avoid telling strangers what you do for a living because as soon as they know you get the tale of woe. You know the score…everyone’s got a ‘friend’ who’s having some bother at work, and what should they do. It’s the equivalent of someone inviting you to check out their rash if you’re a doctor, or having to listen to complaints about someone’s hotel if you’re a travel agent…you just sort of learn to keep schtum.

Anyway, given this was my friend I was happy to help…we saw a couple of people who were a bit less than impressive, and then in walked Mr Charisma – we loved him instantly. He had exactly the right sort of experience, amassed over a number of years. He was really open and friendly, and the answers he gave to our questions were terrific, there’s no question he could do the job. And yet, he was possibly the most self-conscious person I’ve ever met.

I know, it’s really easy from the interviewer side of the room to say relax and enjoy the meeting, and I totally get it, as an interviewee you’re probably going to have a few heebie jeebies. But genuinely, I don’t think he was nervous about the interview – he knew his onions, and to be fair he aced it. This poor bloke was in his own private version of hell because he was self conscious about his weight.

There’s no getting away from the fact that he was very short and very round. And I can say with absolute certainty he was desperately hoping that it wasn’t the only thing we noticed about him. My empathy-ometer was nearly off the scale and If it hadn’t been highly inappropriate, I might have hugged him…I’ve walked a mile in his shoes, which is why I can tell you exactly what was going on in his head. He so wanted to be judged on his ability rather than his appearance, but I guarantee that in that moment, how he looked and how he felt was leeching 95% of his focus.

The chair we offered must have been agony. He had a bloody good go at sitting in it, but it just wasn’t built for a man of his proportions. He spilled over it you know? He looked so uncomfortable. His suit jacket was a little snug, and when he sat down it kind of bunched up around his shoulders. He spent the best part of the interview adjusting his tie to cover the buttons on his shirt which were straining across his frame, and tugging at the lapels and the sleeves of his jacket.

The irony is, I was having a moment myself at the same time. I wasn’t sitting up to a table, you know in true HR style we’d set the room up with no barriers so I was writing my interview notes in a pad balanced on my knee. I’m still too fat to cross my legs and as I looked down at my notes, the asshole in my mind couldn’t resist the opportunity to point out how my stomach and my pad were fighting over the right to rest on my leg.

I so badly wanted to say to him it’s okay…quit fretting about the fat thing, we see you. Of course I didn’t…but I was so in sync with his thoughts I felt like Mystic bloody Meg. The really ridiculous thing is that out of the three professional people in the room, at least two were preoccupied with how they looked and what other people might be thinking about that.

Being free of that distracting and destructive thought ball and chain is the thing I’m looking forward to more than anything once I get to Skinny Town 🙂

 

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Anything, But Not Grateful!

Freeform thoughts,

insecureMy friend’s daughter had her confidence knocked big time at a Christmas party this weekend – she’s quite a curvy girl, but definitely in a ‘curves you’d kill for’ hourglass kind of way. She’s young, gorgeous, and to be honest if she was my daughter she’d be locked in a tower until she was at least forty. There’s a bloke in the mix who she has a bit of a soft spot for – actually she’s got the raging hots for him, I was being discreet – so she was gearing up for a bit of a flirt and maybe a moment under the mistletoe you know?

Off she went, feeling really giddy. And within ten minutes of arriving at the party, a thoughtless catty comment made by one of her so-called friends about the way she looked ruined her whole night. I could have wept for her as my friend was telling me about it, because like many of you guys I’m sure, I’ve been there.

She doesn’t see what we all see, when she looks in the mirror. I look at her and I see flawless peachy skin and an amazing smile. I see a girl with boobs to die for and a proper waist, and yet all she sees when she looks in the mirror is fat. To put it into perspective, I’ve got more fat on my earlobes than she has on her body.

When I look back at my own teenage years, I often wonder how different my life might have been if I’d grown up in a hot body. I mean don’t get me wrong, I was a proper party animal when I was younger, and I didn’t suffer from a lack of confidence per se, but, I always felt like a munter at the side of my skinny string bean friends, like the fat funny one who was good for a laugh but not, you know, fanciable.

At the end of the night when it got to slow dance time, all the girls used to stand around the dance floor looking like they couldn’t be arsed with the boy thing, and didn’t care that they hadn’t yet been invited to shuffle around in circles and have a quick snog. And yet one by one the hot girls all got picked off by the hot boys, the reasonably attractive girls got picked off by the reasonably attractive boys, and then there were only swamp donkeys left, feeling a little bit awkward, with both sexes furtively weighing up their remaining options.

I used to fall somewhere in the middle, you know? I had a pretty face but I filled my disco pants a bit too well to be an A-lister. Mostly my dancing partners were definitely to the left of hot, but you know it was generally quite dark so it didn’t matter too much, in the moment. But the point I’m making is, because I didn’t feel confident about the way I looked, the overwhelming feeling I got whenever someone asked me to dance was grateful. And let me tell you that’s not how you want to feel when it comes to members of the opposite sex.

Feeling grateful that someone picked you leads to a whole world of pain…you put up with more, and overlook things which should set alarm bells clanging because you know, he likes you and that’s good, right? You settle. Usually for someone who’s not worthy of you…here speaketh the voice of experience.

When I look back, I wasn’t fat really, not fat like now fat. I mean yes, I filled those disco pants a bit too well but not on an industrial scale. Trust me, I wish I was the same size now as I was when I thought I was fat the first time around…nothing quite like the twenty twenty vision of hindsight hmm?

Anyway…I’m happy to report that my friend’s girl got her man, well that is to say he texted her the next day and apparently told her he’d thought she’d looked ‘sick’ the night before. I’m reliably informed that these days that is a compliment…I shall file that away for future reference because under normal circumstances if anyone texted that to me they’d be asking for a smack in the chops 🙂

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Fur Coat And No Knickers

Freeform thoughts, ,

fur
One of the things I’ve always been quite good at, is making decisions and then doing what I’ve said I’m going to do. You know like some people talk about what they’re going to do but what they actually mean is, I might do it, one day, if the Moon is in Saturn and the stars all align. It’s not really a statement of intent, so much as a thought spoken out loud. With me, by the time the words make it out of my head they’ve generally  been mulled over and I’m pretty much there in terms of deciding to go for it.

Until I understood the difference between my approach and the thinking out loud approach that some of my friends adopt, it used to drive me bat shit crazy. I thought we’d agreed, you know..? That we were going to do this..?  Ah yes, well I’m definitely thinking about it…for those of you who have gotten to know me over the last few months you’ll appreciate that the patience fairy was a bit parsimonious with the magic dust and patience isn’t my strongest suit.

I was chatting to a friend of a friend over the weekend, who just happens to be one of these blue-sky thinkers, and whose daydreams are very much pitched as reality. Had my friend not forewarned me about him I would have left the conversation feeling exhausted at the thought of how much he was going to pack in over the next year, but as it was, my thoughts drifted as he rattled on about this and that. And as I was trying to nod and look interested in all the right places I got to thinking.

I’ve made some bold and cheeky statements over the last few months to you guys, about what I was going to do, right? But we’ve chatted about so much, I got to wondering about whether I’ve followed through with them all. I felt the need to take a quick inventory because I’d hate to turn into one of those people who is known for talking the talk but not walking the walk you know? I have a bad feeling about this, my palms have all of a sudden got a bit sweaty and I suspect a couple of my good intentions might have slipped under the net.

Lets start with the positives. Visualisation, portion control, goals and skinny choices…big tick in all those boxes. I’m all over those…I’ve even found myself choosing a cookie with a broken corner, which made me laugh…first time ever. There’s still no prince charming on the horizon – I mean come on, someone at least send me a tall dark handsome bloke desperate to ravish me so I can be tested!  I continue to work on spending my food budget carefully, and I’m planning better across the week. So in all those areas, I’m doing good…I’m walking the walk.

Except, I’m not walking the real walk. Walking half an hour every day, that’s something I said I was going to do when I got back from my trip…whoops. Epic fail. I haven’t been doing it. So, how many excuses do you need? I could probably rattle off at least a half dozen…I hold a black belt in excuses related to diet and exercise, I mean come on I’ve been honing my skills for a lifetime. But the fact is, I just haven’t pushed myself. And that’s a rubbish effort. There’s no wonder it doesn’t feel like a habit yet, I think I’ve only done it twice.

I can imagine what my granny would have said…yes well, all fur coat and no knickers, that one…that’s a good old Yorkshire expression for someone who’s all show. I don’t think that’s me…I don’t think I’m all show.  But all the things I’ve said I was going to do were things I put out there as a way of supporting this journey, and they’re not going to pack much of a punch if I don’t follow through are they?

So…I’ve ‘fessed up. And tomorrow, I re-boot and start walking 🙂

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Have You Changed Your Hair?

Diet update, ,

jar

Sunday again! I can’t believe another week has gone by so quickly, time feels like it’s whizzing past my ears ’till I’m dizzy. Maybe it’s because I hit my big birthday last month and it’s all downhill from here..? Having said that, you’ll often find me wishing time away…on Mondays especially I wish it were Friday, and I increasingly find myself thinking about this time next year – we’ll be in Skinny Town by then, right?

I get the fact that there’s a lot of todays to get through before then, and given that this week feels like the start of a new regime, I need to really make it count. I promise I’m going to stop banging on about this change of diet, I don’t want any of our posse to feel the need to peel off and take a left turn to Snoozeville. But given that this week has all been a bit dramatic, it’s probably a good time to take stock and reflect on exactly where I’m at.

I checked in with the bitch in the bathroom this morning, and it seems I’m on course…I mean don’t get me wrong I’d be much happier if the number was going down as quickly as time seems to be passing, but the important thing is that the number is going down. This month, by about 7lbs and I’ll happily take that, thank you 🙂 Lets wait and see how the new plan pans out in comparison.

I did have a FFS moment last night when I realised my favourite chocolate dipped freeze dried raspberries had doubled in points under the new rules but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ll just have to suck them for twice as long. I did hold the record in school for making a fruit pastille last the longest so I’m up for the challenge…I’ve got form.

There was a moment, mid week that I’ve looked back on a couple of times with quiet satisfaction, you know one of ‘those’ moments that makes all the willpower worthwhile? I’ve been dying to tell you because I know you’ll all get it you know? A colleague who I only see maybe once a month or so swung by the office and perched on the side of my desk to pick my brains about something, and he kind of studied me for a minute and then said are you wearing contact lenses..?

I replied that yes I was, but I always had so why did he ask, and he proceeded to run through a list…had I done something different with my hair? Changed my make-up? I looked different to him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly. I felt this huge big bubble of happy well up inside me, because even though I didn’t enlighten him, I knew exactly what it was…my face is thinner.

I mean don’t get me wrong…the change is subtle, but it’s there. So I had a little inner high-five with myself and basked for a moment in just how great that made me feel. I’ve earned it! I’m going to make myself a little compliments jar, and every time someone notices a little change, or pays me a compliment, I’m going to write it down on a little square of paper and put it in my jar. And on days where the asshole in my mind is chewing at my ear about one thing or another, I can tip them all out and remind myself how awesome it feels to be on the front foot as we march our way to Skinny Town.

So, new week, new diet, new challenge…lets get at it. Have a great week everyone, and thanks for your amazing support as always 🙂

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Dealing With The Diva

Biggest struggles, , ,

kicking_screaming-cartoon

I’d like to think that I’m a fairly rational person, with at least a couple of active brain cells, but I’m here to tell you that this whole change of diet thing has knocked me for six. This morning I had the biggest diva meltdown ever over dropping an egg on the floor – my son, who had just arrived home after collecting our Christmas tree put it down and disappeared at the speed of sound, clearly reluctant to get sucked into the shitstorm.

It was late morning, and I was overdue breakfast. After spending half an hour trying to negotiate my way around the Weight Watchers website – half of which still isn’t working – to get the new points values for stuff I had to hand, I’d finally settled on eggs and toast. There were two eggs left in the carton, one of which survived the journey from carton to pan, and one of which didn’t…the one that didn’t ended up half on the tiled floor and half all over my slipper.

At that point the red mist descended. I don’t think there’s a cupboard door that remained unslammed, or a naughty word that remained unsaid. I managed to spread the egg on my slipper to all four corners of the kitchen as I stomped around being ridiculous. Then I sat and cried, and that’s really not like me at all.

So now I’ve calmed down and eaten something else instead – I mean who could be bothered with just one egg, right? – I think maybe I should at least make an attempt to understand why smashing the egg pushed my buttons in quite the way that it did. I’m not sure there’s just one reason…I think it was kind of a killer combination of a few things. Firstly I was hungry. Secondly I’m not the most patient person in the world, so spending ages trying to navigate a website which felt like it was leading me a right merry dance with oops there’s a problem, please try later on every second click hadn’t sweetened my mood.

I think mostly, in the back of my mind, I was – am – still frustrated with the way in which the transition from one diet to another has been handled by Weight Watchers, and I feel like it’s pushed me into a situation where I’ve messed up my lovely clean diet bill-of-health, if that makes sense?

As far as I was concerned, I’ve eaten within points consistently, played it completely straight and resisted loads of temptations along the way. That gave me a real feeling of power, like I’ve got this, you know? The longer I had things under control, the stronger I felt, and every day I was building on a really solid record of getting it right. Knowing you have all that success under your belt makes you really reluctant to break that perfect record, so it gathers a momentum all of it’s own.

To find out that actually, by spending my food budget using a combination of old and new weight watchers currency means I might have unknowingly gone way over my budget makes me feel like I’ve spoiled that perfect record…broken the spell, you know?  And whether that was intentional or not, I’m now wrestling with the asshole voice in my head who is screaming ha ha you’ve blown it, told you this wouldn’t last…the usual shit. And yes, I appreciate that I might just as easily have come in under budget – but the fact is I don’t know.

When you boil it down to brass tacks, I think that I’m scared…I’d settled into a groove with a diet that was working for me. I haven’t fallen off the wagon as much as been thrown off it, and that sucks. But you know what, writing this down is really helping, because it’s forcing me to acknowledge that I’m acting like a proper diva. Yes, of course I have a right to be angry. GGGRRRR. Right, been there, done that…move on.

I’m not starting from scratch. I still have all that success under my belt. I’m still knocking on the door of my third dress size down. I still have you guys, and I have still got a perfect record of making good choices. What I’ll never have control over is other people’s fuck-ups. But I’m big enough and hard enough to step over that bump in the road to Skinny Town and just keep on trucking.

And the diva..? She’s back in her box 🙂

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