The relationship with my body

Sunday, 17 September 2017

I can be the first one to admit that I am not a size 6. My hips are, as told me to once aged 14, by a boy in my biology class “Look like I’m ready to give birth”, my thighs touch, and my arms wiggle. There’s nothing insta-girl-worthy about my excess fat on my arms nor my flared nostrils. The truth is I’m never going to be the skinny girl on a beach in Bali with thigh gaps so apparent you could stick your noggin through it.  My weight is an aspect that has been a hugely hypersensitive topic within my life,  I can safely say issues with my body has been rife since I was around ten, and have grown steadily with age.

I like collecting as many memories as possible (most call it hoarding) which means I still have almost every diary I started and then failed to continue. This means I have reams of utterly embarrassing diary entries from my childhood upwards. However, some of my earliest diary entries feature concerns about how I look, why am I not as slim as all my friends and why do I feel so uncomfortable in my body. 

This feeling of feeling uncomfort snowballed towards my teens. I’ve touched on this slightly, but my teenage years were riddled with my obsession with my weight. Everything fed my unhealthy obsession: the media, school, comments made by boyfriends at the time but in retrospect, I was my own worst enemy. I was toxic towards my body and my overall appearance. It was truly an obsession. I have this overwhelming memory of my high school not feeling I could truly be myself, be as exuberant than all my other friends as my weight held me back. I can’t be seen doing that, I’m the tubby friend. Don’t laugh too loud, don’t attract too much attention. Attention equated to people noticing you weren’t as skinny or as pretty as your group of friends. I’d wear tummy control pants as early as 14 to school and the thought of getting changed with everyone during P.E made me feel physically nauseous.

In the last two years, I would be lying to myself,  also you, if I told you my issues with my body had suddenly evaporated. My weight has fluctuated massively, up and down repeatedly by two stone. This constant struggle between weight loss and weight gain gave me two very clear moods. The first, at my slimmest, the happiest, the more extroverted self. The girl who didn’t feel uncomfortable not taking her jacket off in a club. But which meant, when the gain was inevitably put back on I would feel the polar-opposite, severely unhappy and self-loathing.
Now as it stands, I can quite easily say I am the largest I have ever been. And normally 1. I would never admit that, in fear that people would suddenly be enlightened and realize that I am in-fact as big as I feel in my head and all my efforts to disguise my weight come undone 2. Typing that out, if I would ever , would fill me with this sense of disgust and un-comfort. But this time, for this some unbeknown reason, I have come to the conclusion my weight does not dictate my happiness. If anything, I’m far happier 9 months into the year, with thighs bigger than ever and my jawline dwindling than I was March of this year, two stone lighter.

It could perhaps be because, as of recently I've become very self-assured with myself in other aspects: my personality. I am funny, a good friend and I am polite. The thought of my self-worth coming from places such as always being able to make my best friend laugh until she has tears streaming rapidly down her face or knowing I will never not say “no thank you” to the stranger holding the big issue whilst every other commuter pretends they didn’t hear the request, is a theory my 16-year-old self wouldn’t be able to fathom. Self-worth not coming from how disappointed you are in what’s staring you back in the mirror? Surely not? For the first time in my whole life, my self-worth is something other than the number on the scales. It’s feeling proud of everything I have achieved this last year with this little website and the opportunities it has given me. Living in a city I love with my best friend and working for an amazing company.

I wish I knew as to why I’m fortunately now in such a positive mind space. If I knew, or had watched a YouTube tutorial on it, believe me when I say, I would be jotting out a pamphlet on the topic right this second and shoving it into letter boxes all over the England and most of Wales. 

I wouldn’t say I am now the poster child for the topic, I know this process will take time. However, I hope this healthy mind set is only going to flourish, making the size of jeans less and less important as time passes. And eventually, and I whole-heartedly mean this, I would love nothing more knowing that one day, I could help the 14-year-old girl with the big hips to tell the boy, to “fuck off”, self-assured in the fact that those hips are beautiful. I would love to speak on body positivity in high schools, far more than reaching a certain figure on Instagram, or securing certain brand deals. If I keep this body positivity malarkey on a roll maybe even by next summer, I can have my kit off in Bali, thighs touching perfectly, arms and nostrils wiggling in the breeze?

Jumper: Zara
Trousers: Missy Empire
Bag: Aurora Store
Hat: Asos
Sunglasses: Verge Girl


  1. I absolutely love this post Fran! You're so confident and you know already that I'm jealous of your figure! Weight is such a tricky one to get your head around but you wrote this perfectly x

  2. This post could help so many young girls, because as I was reading this I kept saying 'yeah i did that' or 'yeah i thought that' to myself. I applaud you for being so honest, this is perfect ���� X

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