You Beautiful Thing, You.

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A few days ago I saw this ad on the TV. I was actually reading at the time so had to rewind the television to make sure I’d heard it correctly.

Sadly, I had. There is an actual TV commercial running which implies that your relationship with your children depends on whether or not you can lose weight and keep it off. Seriously? I have no words.

Well, obviously I have lots of words. Which is fortunate as otherwise this would be my shortest post yet.

I’d like to set your mind back almost a year and ask you to revisit the point of my Mummy Kindness Manifesto:
“I will not be defined by the number on a scale. It is not my worth”.

Talk about easier said than done.

Everywhere we look we’re bombarded with messages. All of which promise happiness, success and belonging (and in this case, your only hope of bonding with your children) if we only buy this….Wear that…Smell like this….Eat that… don’t eat that. Look like her…. Don’t look like her. It’s endless and it’s everywhere.

Image, it seems, is everything. It’s our only hope. We can’t possibly amount to anything in life if we don’t drop a dress size or four. There is no fate worse than fat.

The truth is, being comfortable in our own skins is bad for business.
It’s no wonder that the same companies who manufacture cakes and desserts also want us to subscribe to their diet programs. They want us to spend money getting fat so that we can spend more to get thin.

And of course, they don’t want us to stay thin. No. The most profitable customers are those of us with a history of yo-yo dieting. The more weight we lose, the more we can re-gain. More revenue for the slimming clubs, protein powder suppliers and personal diet chefs.

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I spent twelve years selling advertising for best-selling magazines and newspapers. It’s no secret that January issues are filled with diet advice and pictures of miraculous celebrity weight-loss stories. The reason for this is the fact that it’s the busiest time of year for diet focused advertising. So the publishers feed (pun intended) our insecurities to create an environment perfect for advertisers to slot in to. They make sure that the antidote to the dose of self-doubt we’ve been served is readily available for purchase from their sponsors. It’s a commercial practise and it’s at the expense of our self-esteem and confidence.

To give you some background info on me, I’m 5ft 4 tall and currently a UK size 14 (that’s a size ten for my US readers). I’ve seen dramatic fluctuations in my weight over the past two years. I lost a great deal of weight following a strict protein-only diet before gradually regaining it, and then some. Anti-depressants and tendency to numb feelings with chocolate hasn’t helped. Not one bit.

I’m not an exceptionally large woman by most people’s standards (fashion magazines and celebrities notwithstanding). I’m smaller than the UK national average. I’m well aware, however, that I’ve gained weight recently.

When it comes to dieting I’ve tried most of them over the years. I lost a couple of stone on WeightWatchers before my wedding. I gained half back and then fell pregnant. I lost the baby weight then had another baby. I quickly lost weight again with the Dukan Diet. I’ve thrown out bigger sized clothes and bought smaller ones and I’ve grown out of them again. Three times I’ve lost around two stone pretty quickly and gained it back again.

I’m an all-or-nothing person when it comes to dieting. I’m generally either incredibly strict and at the gym every day or completely off-the-wagon. There’s not really a middle ground for me.

I’ve spent at least twenty years obsessing over my weight and appearance. Whether consciously or subconsciously I compare myself with everyone, all the time and rarely, if ever, feel like I match-up. I know some very stunning women and many of them are “bigger” girls. I know lots would be thrilled to be the same size as I am. I look at their beautiful faces and wish I was prettier. I can find something or someone better than me with almost any comparison. So I guess the trick is to simply stop comparing.

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Can you imagine how different life would be if you were comfortable in your own skin? If you didn’t feel inadequate next to other woman who you perceive to be better than you in some way or another?

It’s a widespread belief that getting fat is the most detrimental factor to anyone’s health. We hear it so often that we don’t question the logic. But it’s just not as straightforward as that; body size is not an accurate indicator of someone’s health.

We all know the skinny person who eats nothing but junk and who rarely moves from the sofa. They are at a far higher risk of health problems than a heavy person who eats healthily and exercises regularly. I’m only scratching the surface of this topic and plan to post more in future weeks, but you can find much more info via this fantastic blog.

It’s my belief that if we’re truly happy with ourselves and our choices we will cease to care so much about other people’s opinions.

Because, truly, when we stop to think about it, isn’t the approval of others a huge factor when we try to get thinner?

The media and society tells us we have to be thin to be beautiful and it’s become so ingrained in our thinking that we can’t imagine feeling differently.

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Now, I’m not saying that we should all ditch our new year diets and go on a huge cake binge. However, I do think we need to question why it is that we feel our lives will be transformed if we shrink a bit. Why do we need to be thinner to feel better about ourselves?

Our bodies are precious. They’re beautiful. The wobbly bits, the stretch marks and the scars? They’re beautiful too. Our bodies are entitled to be nurtured and loved.

Healthy food and exercise is good for the body, mind and spirit. It’s important to look after yourself, not because a magazine says you need to resemble a supermodel or teenage popstar, but because you deserve your own loving care.

You have nothing to prove, because you’re already good enough. Honestly.

We need to have faith in our own beauty because our children are watching and listening. Even when we don’t realise it, they’re learning from us.

They need to know that they’re worthy of love and acceptance whatever their appearance and that food is to be enjoyed and not feared.

I want my children to see the beauty in people of all shapes, sizes and colours. Not just those who fit an aesthetically perfect stereotype.

The only way I can think of to teach them is to lead by example. To look after my body with my health and well being as a priority and not just a target weight or dress-size in mind. This, if anything, is my resolution for 2014.

Happy New Year, you beautiful thing, you.

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Our Own Worst Enemies.

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Last night a Facebook conversation erupted into controversy before my very eyes. I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours deliberating my thoughts on it and I’m going to share them with you here.

It started with this status update, from N:

“People, PLEASE, for the love of all that is holy, dress for the body you HAVE, and not the body you THINK you have”.

Let me ask you: What springs to mind when you read this? For me, it was an image of a “mutton-dressed-as-lamb” type, or perhaps some shorts that are perhaps a little tighter than the wearer realised. It actually made me think of the shorts I was wearing at the time, to be honest, and how unattractive my thighs looked, squished underneath me the sofa.

However, it quickly transpired that not everyone drew the same meaning. S replied with the following:

“Or, you could just not look at people who aren’t dressing according to your exacting standards. Signed, a fatty who doesn’t appreciate having to swelter in long sleeves just because thin people think we should. This sort of thing kept me indoors during summers to avoid being pointed and whispered at by people who think the way you do. We have the right to wear what we like, just like everyone else”.

The original poster, N, took considerable offence to the suggestion elsewhere in the conversation, that she was ‘fat shaming’ and ‘perpetuating a myth that fat people don’t know we’re fat’.

In a conversation which included many women, all defended N. She didn’t intend to cause offence, that’s for sure. I genuinely think that hers was an off-the-cuff comment that was probably devised on the tube with someone’s inadequately covered, sweaty backside in far too close proximity.

But the point is, the comment did cause considerable offence, whether intentional or otherwise.

Almost everyone joining debate caveated their offering with words to the effect of “I’m fat, too and I’m not offended.”

Some of the opinions were as follows:

“I really don’t think N is implying that a larger lady should not dress comfortably for hot weather. More so people who wear short shorts up their bums, hipsters and crop tops which are designed specifically to show off certain parts of the body, more than just keep cool, and not over heat”

“People should learn to dress well. Just because it is fashionable to wear crops tops or hot pants doesn’t give people an automatic right to wear them…it is always good when you’re out and about to people watch and think ‘OMG did you see what he/she was wearing?'”

“Can I just say that as a lady of large proportions, I was not offended in the slightest by your comment…”

“As a fatty myself I also take no offence to what’s been said…and I’m fat because I eat too much and I’m a bit lazy, so if I get judged for that then I probably deserve it!”

“I don’t think N is “body-shaming” anybody at all. I think what she’s trying to say is that people could make themselves look better by dressing in something that better flatters their body shape.”

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So many parts of this debate fascinated and disturbed me in equal measure that I'm not sure I even know where to begin. Women feeling deserving of judgement because they're overweight, for a start.

The fact that so many women felt the need to clarify themselves as "fat"; seemingly before anyone else got the chance the say it first was really quite shocking to me. I openly admit that I have a problem with the word "fat". To me it is derogatory, demeaning and offensive. So many of us use it to describe ourselves and others, but not just as an adjective. The connotation is that it's something to be very ashamed of.

So ashamed, in fact that someone above said that large people “do not have the right” to wear certain things.

Do. Not. Have. The. Right. Let that one permeate for a moment. We live in a society where women have died and three feminist movements have taken place. As a result we have freedom of speech and expression and (to a degree) equality. There are many, many cultures where women still don’t have voices. They are literally killed for not conforming to oppressive regimes. Yet we women in the western world are implementing sanctions on ourselves based on what society says we should wear. Based on rules which state you can only wear certain clothes if you fit a precise image. If your BMI is under a certain point. As long as you’re not fat.

I have been the judgey person. I have. I have looked at women over a certain age and sniggered inwardly. I have looked at muffin tops (usually in the mirror, truth be told) and I’ve felt disdain. I’ve wondered what-on-earth is she thinking? whilst looking at a more voluptuous form spilling forth from an outfit. I have. And now I am sorry. I really am. Who has the right to say what a women can wear, whatever her size? It really is only society and the media who perpetuate this ideal. And we get sucked in. We turn this negativity inwards and outwards. We allow it to fester and to tarnish our self-image and our self esteem. Then we pass it on to our children.

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I did some research in to the “F Word”. I wondered if large women openly calling themselves fat was a way of appropriating the word again. Here’s a quote from one of my readers:

“Those of us who are involved in the Fat Acceptance/Health At Every Size movement describe ourselves as fat partly because yes, we’re reclaiming it, but mostly because the only reason it’s seen as an insult is because of societal attitudes. It’s not an insult in and of itself and nor should it be. To perceive it as an insult is to accept that there’s something wrong with being fat.
I often encounter people who, when they hear me describe myself as fat, go “Oh don’t put yourself down!” and I have to explain I’m not; I say I’m fat because I am, and to me it carries no negative connotation. “I am fat” is a neutral and accurate statement of fact just the same as “I have brown hair” or “my eyes are grey”. It is always best to be cautious because there’s no way of knowing how someone fat is comfortable describing themselves or being described without asking, or unless you see/hear them first, but my personal opinion (and that of many other body-positivity people I know) is that other terms are at best euphemistic and at worst, insulting.”

This whole conversation has opened my eyes in many way and is something I’ll be researching a lot more in to.

Again, I want to say that I don’t believe that N intended to cause such offence. That in itself has really made me think about some of the things I post online which are intended to be witty observations but in actual fact could perhaps be very upsetting to some. I recently posted something about poor grammar and the incorrect usage of your/you’re/there/they’re and their. Someone rightly commented that, actually, some people don’t find reading and writing to be straight-forward. I realised I had been judging and I felt dreadful.

On the other hand, I do think we can go too far in censoring ourselves. We should be able to make jokes and engage in banter. But at the same time, we need to be more mindful of who may be reading and what harm our words could cause. I clearly remember a close colleague of mine having to avoid Facebook whilst trying at length for a baby. Not, as you may assume, because she couldn’t bear to see birth announcements and baby pictures. It was because she couldn’t stand to read any more updates from mums complaining about how hard their job as a mother was. It was all she wanted in life and others seemed so ungrateful to her.

Sometimes in life, whether we intend to or not, we upset people. It takes a strong and self-aware woman to let the dust settle, step back and apologise. It’s even harder if you feel the issue lies in the eye (or interpretation) of the offended.

I’ll leave you with these thoughts: Can you envisage being confident enough in your own skin not to take offence in ill-though out Facebook messages?

Can you imagine how you’d feel if you genuinely didn’t care about your weight or your image? If you really loved yourself and saw your flaws as beautiful. If you didn’t judge or feel judged? If you saw beauty in everyone you looked at? Can you imagine giving this gift to your children?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. We are all on the same team, sisters. We really are. Let’s be kinder to ourselves and to each other. Beautiful inside and out, no matter what anyone says.

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I’d love your thoughts on this. Please remember that this article was written with love so please do comment with love, too. No bashing of anyone, please.

All pictures credited to We Heart It.

Beyond the Scale

Nothing highlights how your life has changed more than going on holiday with two small children. We’ve just returned from two lovely weeks in the sun. It was our first holiday abroad in three years and we chose a very family friendly resort so that the kids would be well catered for.

Anyone who’s taken their pre-schoolers on holiday will tell you that the days of relaxing on a sun-lounger with a book and a cocktail are long-gone, at least for the time being. But this isn’t the only change I noticed around the pool.

In my late teens and early twenties I went on several girls’ holidays with my friends. The only similarity between those days and the present is the lack of rest! I remember sitting around the pool with my two closest girlfriends, ten years ago. Both were tiny size eights and I was a twelve. I used to feel so paranoid about being bigger than them. Of course if I had a time-machine I’d go back and tell that foolish girl to make the most of her pert figure because gravity and pregnancy would soon take it’s toll and one day her stomach would sway when she walked.

Usually before a holiday I’d be frantically crash-dieting, but not this year. Having recently recovered from a serious bout of depression (which admittedly involved a fair amount of comfort eating) I simply wasn’t in the right place to begin a diet. I didn’t have the emotional energy to dedicate to a diet and I don’t think I’d have handled the stress well. My bikini days are well and truly behind me and I packed my trusty one-piece swimsuits, thanking my lucky stars that they’re fashionable at the moment.

In contrast to the days when I used to look with envy at other girls’ bikini bodies, this time I noticed similarities between all of the women around the pool;

The body of almost every woman I saw on holiday showed signs of having experienced pregnancy.

This was something that I found incredibly comforting. I can honestly say that I think I saw three women out of the hundreds in our resort, whose bodies still looked perfect. I even asked one of them what her secret was. Turns out there’s something to be said for vigorous daily exercise!

Now I have never felt particularly comfortable in my skin. But this has been magnified since having children. I was enormous in pregnancy and I’ve been left with an unsightly “pouch” of skin on my lower stomach. I don’t hide the fact that if I had the courage and the money I’d get it surgically removed.

Why are so many of us surprised and disappointed with our post-baby bodies?

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For lots of women, a major goal in life is to have children. Whether consciously or otherwise, a great deal of effort goes in to finding a partner to reproduce with. For some, conception is easy and for others it can be a painful journey taking many years. Then comes pregnancy, birth and often breast-feeding. Here is this amazing little person you’ve created, nurtured and sustained thanks to your incredible body.

Yet, once this stage is over, many of us (myself very much included) will look in the mirror from time-to-time and shake our heads. Poke at our once-lovely boobs and prod our jiggly tummies and dimpled behinds, wondering what happened.

Pregnancy happened. Childbirth happened. Life changed forever and beyond recognition thanks to the little person (or people) you brought in to the world. Yet somehow we expect our bodies to remain unscathed. To not show any sign of the miracle they created. We look at the marks left behind and we view them with disdain, as a sign of imperfection. Whether we’re aware of it or not, we compare our bodies with our peers and with air-brushed images of celebrities who somehow make it back on to the catwalk within days of giving birth. (I often wonder about this. Where do they hide the massive brick-sized post-natal sanitary towels in those skimpy outfits, anyway?!).

But who is watching us, when we stand in the bathroom scowling at our reflections?

Our children are watching. They are listening and they’re learning. Their little sponge-like brains are forming opinions that imperfection is bad. That fat is ugly. That image is so very important. That mummy doesn’t like herself very much. Perhaps even that if they get fat too that mummy may not like them anymore, either.

I read a fabulous quote from Kate Winslet, online recently:
“As a child I never heard one woman say to me ‘I love my body’. Not my mother, my elder sister, my best friend. No one woman has ever said; ‘I am so proud of my body’. So I make sure to say it to Mia, because a positive physical outlook has to start at an early age”.

Now granted, I’d find it easier to love my body if it resembled Kate Winslets. But that’s not the point. Our daughters (and sons) need to hear this. We simply MUST learn to lead by example when it comes to teaching healthy body image to our children. They need to know that imperfection is acceptable. Regardless of their shape, size, colour or countless other factors, they need to know that they belong and are loved.

Through the eyes of our children, we are beautiful. We’re their beautiful mummies. Who are we to argue with their views and to tell them that they’re wrong, to point out the flaws in their logic along with those on our bodies?


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A friend recently told me how her seven year old daughter came home from school in tears. Another child had called her fat and she wants to go on a diet. Seven. Years. Old. This makes my heart hurt on so many levels. That a child should have this worry on their shoulders is devastating. That another child should use the “F Word” to another child to hurt them is equally awful.

I want my children to accept and embrace people of all shapes, sizes and backgrounds. I want them to be confident enough in their own strengths of character for appearance to not be their only defining factor. I want them to never be the child hurling insults at others.

This has to start with me.

We women are our own worst critics. If we’re not beating ourselves up by comparing ourselves with others we’re often bashing other women. Discussing or criticising the appearance of our peers. This only serves to make ourselves feel more insecure. If we’re discussing someone else’s weight gain, surely someone else is doing the same to us, right? And who is listening, when we’re sitting in a room discussing how such-and-such lost all that weight and has now regained it all? Who is taking in every word we say, filing it away for future reference? Yep. You guessed it.

Think about the women in your life. Think of who you see as beautiful. Are they all perfect size eights? Are they all jiggle, line and stretch-mark free? Of course they aren’t. There is so much more to beauty than physical appearance and size.

To truly set an example to our children we need to learn to respect and honour, if not love our own bodies. Inside and out.

This is the only body I’ll ever have. It’s seen me through a lot and given life to a two whole new people. That’s amazing. There’s no question about it.

In an ideal world appearances wouldn’t matter at all. What we wear and how we look would pale in to insignificance versus our good deeds and our kind spirits. We’d all be recognised for our talents and strengths and no-one would give a second thought to weight, skin colour or any other physical attribute. But this sadly isn’t the society we live in.

This, too needs to change. But the diet and beauty industries are worth far too much to the media. We and our children will be bombarded with images of how we’re supposed to look. How we’ll only be truly happy if we drop a dress size (or four)/wear this/buy that.

Our ammunition against this tirade of negativity is our own self-esteem and rational mind. We simply must remind ourselves and our children how many qualities we have, beyond looks. How clever and kind we are. How thoughtful.
By pointing out positive characteristics to our children we can take some of the emphasis off physical appearance as the only gauge of a person’s worth.

I just hope that I can put a sizeable deposit in to my children’s self esteem bank: If someone throws an insult at them, they can draw on a reserve of strength. If they see a magazine article which tells them they’re “less-than” I hope they’ll be able to laugh it off.

I can only truly achieve this when I start to accept my body for the imperfect marvel that it is.

Of course our insides are far more important than our outward appearances. I hope that being slim or beautiful won’t be defining factors for my children. I want them to see beyond the scale and the mirror when it comes to calculating their worth. But at the same time I hope they’ll realise that whatever shape or size they are, they’re beautiful. Like their Mama.

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