“You’ve got the loveliest skin … and so much of it.”
Her Rubenesque fingers stab at the phone. I hear it ring in stereo - once, tinny from the speaker pressed against her cuddly ear, and then, far-off, in a glass-walled cage of disdain, I hear it ring again.
“ELLO?” she is shouting. “‘ELLO IT IS NURRRSE JEAN!”
I hear the receptionists reply hello? yes? hello? on the other side of one room and two doors.
For a surgery with a complex system of intercoms and internal phone systems, I ponder, they certainly could save a lot of money by simply falling back on the traditional shouting methods, pioneered by elk and perfected by fishwives over the ages. But no, instead, innovatively, they have decided to use both. At once. All the time.
It is a technique I first noticed while sitting in the waiting room for an hour, listening to NURRRSE JEAN! admonish two old ladies for being too quiet and a man on crutches for not being able to walk properly. I notice it again here, now, as blunt words are bellowed with enough force to drive joy from my life and tears from my eyes.
“ELLO? ELLO I CANNOT GIVE HER PILL! SHE AS PUT ON TOO MUCH WEIGHT! AND SHE IS TOO EAVY! AND ER BLOOD PRESSURE IS DANGEROUS IGH! SHE MUST SEE THE DOCTOR NOT ME SHE IS TOO FAT GOOD BYE.”
And she puts the phone down. Sitting on my chair, tying the laces on shoes that are starting to dissolve at the edges, I see the first hot teardrip hit my toe, and try desperately to think of a way of saying “Don’t you think you could have said that to me that first?” without making her shout at me again.
But I can’t. So I push out a croaky ‘Thankyouverymuch’, and, biting and holding and tearing and holding the inside of my lip hard with my sharp front teeth, I go to the desk, wait whole hour-minutes while they flick through the appointment book of Dr Death, then walk home, head down, ashamed, stumbling as soberly, snuffling as maturely, panicking as calmly and wailing as quietly as I can.
I’ve never been light. Or thin, really. I’m not built that way. I’ve never been thin. I’ve never been light.
I have been Alight mind, but not for long, and that’s not what you asked me. I’ve never been light. Or thin.
I’ve certainly been thinner, a bit, and lighter, a tad, but I’ve never been thin. Or light, really.
Light particularly, as it happens.
I’m not going to tell you my exact weight - I’m a lady after all - but let me tell you, it bears very little resemblance to my actual appearance. ‘Oh you’re not fat’, people say, ‘Sure, you’re not thin, you are curvy, but you’re not fa… - well, how much do you weigh?’
I tell them.
‘My GOD!” The usual reaction. “Is that POSSIBLE? Are you allowed in lifts?! Are your bones made of LEAD? Have you contacted Mr Norris McWhirter about a Guinness World Record?!”
“No, I have not,” I say “he is dead.”
“Is he?!” They reply… “Is he? Was it YOU?! Did you sit on him? Did you, like, EAT him or something?”
I sometimes wonder if I’m talking to the right people about these things.
That’s not true. It can’t be. For the longest time, I wouldn’t talk to anyone about these things. Anyone at all. Yes, I was chubby, yes, I was good at playing confident and bubbly, and yes, I wasn’t that happy about it, but no, I couldn’t ever tell anyone that, because it was a shameful thing, I felt - feel - repulsed by it, angry with it, all those things, and worse, if I mentioned that I didn’t like the way I looked, that gave them perfect licence to say that they didn’t like it either.
And besides, in some ways I felt positive about it - I love food - I love flavours and textures, I don’t want to be told what to do, what to eat, how to behave. And lets face it, I started my recent serious campaign for chubbiness when I fell in love, became happy and content and ate too much. It happens. Boo hoo, I’m happy.
Of course, I don’t want there to be social shame in being larger than a stick. I want to drink pints if I feel like, not some pussy Bacardi and Diet Coke. I want to enjoy life to the fullest, and I want to not care if my sillhouette displays it. And hell, I’d rather be in love than not fat, wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t I?
Well, yes and no…
No, mainly yes. But also no. I’d rather be in love and happy, but unfortunately I can’t seem to just be happy about whatever the hell it is I’m lugging around on these child-bearing hips of mine. Much as I want all the things above, I also want other things.
I want not to cry clothes shops.
I want to be able to look in a full length mirror without wanting to cover it over with a shroud.
I want to let people pictures of me without wanting to shout at them, or pulling a silly face.
I want not to worry about manouvering my way out of a crowded bus, fearing that everyone will feel like they need to move out of the way to let the cow get past.
I want to walk with my head up, not scared of catching my reflection in a window.
Stupid thing is - I actually don’t care what size I am, or what shape - all I want is to be happy.
Something has to change. Either me, or the way I deal with being me. And mixed into that, the way I deal with other people who seem concerned with an unhappiness they feel I must surely have.
It’s only a blood pressure test. Summoned to NURRRSE JEAN!’s office with a perfunctory “UH!” which could, admittedly, be taken for my name if you care little for constentants or civility, I walk in, and am barked at for five minutes. I have a conversation. She has a conversation. It is rarely the same conversation.
“TAKE OFF YOUR COAT. ROLL THAT SLEEVE NOW.”
One sided weather-banter bounces off her generous, yet impervious, bosom. I try a different tack. Busy today? Nothing. Holiday this year? Zip.
“YOUR DIABOLIC PRESSURE. ISS TOO HIGH!”
Really? How odd. It’s never been high before - why might that be, do you think?
“YOU SAY I’M LYING? WHY YOU SAY I’M LYING?! I NOT LYING. WE DO IT AGAIN THEN YOU WILL SEE!”
Nonono, I’m just surprised.
“I WEIGH YOU”
Oh, gosh! Well, let me tell you, I’ve put on weight since going on this pill, so this is just going to be horrible, you know I wonder if
“TAKE OFF SHOES. AND SOCKS”
Oh can’t I leave the socks on? Then I can always blame the terrible result on having 3-stone socks! Oh alright. I bet you hear that all the…
“STAND HERE. STAND STILL.”
- I comply. I comply silently. I smile sweetly. She finishes her concentrated weighing and slaps the machine off with a grunt that is either nonchalant, dismissive, disgusted or joyful. It is difficult to tell with grunting.
How do I weigh up? I smile. She ignores me.
Do you think the blood pressure might be connected to my weight? Am I overweight? I ask. She ignores me. I sit down. So … if I, you know, if I lost weight, would that help the blood pressure thing, or do I have to do something else?She looks at me distainfully then looks away. She picks up the phone with her well-rounded hand.
I start to put my shoes back on.
The thing is, I don’t think it was particularly NURRRSE JEAN! that pushed me over the edge. I don’t know what it was.
I had a conversation with a good friend a few months ago when I realised in the space of one sentence that rather that, contrary to the way I thought my friends saw me, when she looked at me, she pitied me.
I realised that when she looked at me, she didn’t see someone who was chubby, but ok. She didn’t see someone who lived life to the full. She saw someone she would hate to look like. She wasn’t being hurtful, or trying to upset. She was being caring.
She felt sorry for me, and fully expected me to feel the same.
I realised she pitied me, and I felt ashamed.
But, you know what? It that wasn’t it either. In fact, that episode made me want to be as joyfully fat as I liked, and in fact, to feel sorry for her, knowing the self-image issues in that conversation were mainly hers, not mine.
Or perhaps it was that vile man we met in Belgium last year, who tried to chat me up behind my beloved’s ear, trying to make a sexual sucker out of my wobbliest bits in the filthiest, gutteringest, phelgm-raising, skin-crawlingest way.
Perhaps it was any of them, or the woman who looked me up and down on the bus. Or the man who looked through me like I wasn’t there, anywhere, anytime.
No. It wasn’t them.
There’s nothing negative about my current crusade.
It’s all positive - and no matter what fed into it, it’s all good.
Who knows, maybe I do just have a morbid curiosity, desperate to find out if my insides are made with tightly packed kryptonite or the heaviest metal known to goth, and nothing can be done about it. Perhaps it’s that dear old biological clock, ticking away, ever unsubtly. Unsubtlier. - There is nothing right about that word. Still - Perhaps it’s age. Perhaps it’s time. Perhaps it’s the magic vitamins I’ve discovered that are making me afraid of nothing, nothing in the world. Perhaps it’s all of these and a fistful of something else too.
But I am determined.
Determined. Oh yes.
I mean, I’m not sure what I’m determined to do, whether it’s change me, or change the way I think about me.
Mind me, World, mind this: if I get thin, it’s not because I want to look like the social ideal; it’s not so you can say ‘that’s better’, or chalk another mark on the Team Clone board. It’s not for any of those things. And besides, no matter how many gyms and how much crisp healthy somewhat-flavourless eating I do, it simply isn’t going to happen.
Because I’ll never be thin, I know. I haven’t got the build, and I would look plain stupid. I’ve never been thin, and I’ll never be light.
I’ve never been light, and I’ll never be thin, but you know what?
I’m determined.
Determined to do Something As Yet Unspecified.
And therefore everything is good.
Anna, it’s like you snuck into my brain and read my mind. I don’t know what else to say. Just know you are not alone in feeling this way. Even when I am “thin” (for me) I always see the fat girl in the mirror. when i see pictures of myself i always wonder “wow, is that how other people see me? Or am i being too critical of myself?” (sigh)
Comment by the other other Karen — 6 July, 2006 7:29 pm
Once I was listening to either Scott Mills or Colin Murray on Radio 1 and they (one of them, whichever one it was) described himself as a ’skinny fat bloke.’ And I recognised the concept, immediately. One can be thin but its all floppy and made up of fat. Then there are those fat-but-not-fat weightlifter guys who are short and round but its all rock-hard muscle.
fat. thin. heavy. light. you write a cracking good post/article. sorry, that’s not meant to be tantamount to saying a patronizing “oh well you have other qualities..”. Here’s a little (well it started out that way) story to illustrate…
Once upon a time, a long time ago, stood around the school gates waiting for our little snot-nosed treasures to emerge crookedly-uniformed from their classrooms, I was listening to mothers boasting/querying what level of the Oxford Reading Tree their respective children were on with other smug/guilty
mothers. I turned away with my own internal smugness knowing that it was all piffle in the grander scheme of things… Pulling at my arm was my autistic son (then a toddler) who would never even set foot in the same forest. Not having any sense of place nor social holding-backness, he whapped out his youknowhat and peed all over the floor right there at the school gates. Still felt really smug. Now many years later (he’s 15) every spider-scrawled letter of writing and every recognised character is valued highly as is the fact that now he at least splatters all over the floor in the privacy of the bathroom…. Oh no!…this wasn’t meant to be a count your blessings comment either. It was meant to be a thing about measuring. A how long is a piece of string thing. About judgement compasses. Like, now when we are out in public and he is making his ‘noises’, grunts and wails and shouting and people are judging and staring I feel sorry for them. And sometimes I even go “he’s autistic” and they are suitably ashamed and apologetic. Some others though don’t understand the word and just assure me I should just give him a good slap -though think that might also be illegal now. And then other times ppl say to me “oh well he must be very gifted at mathematics/painting/playing piano concertos/remembering telephone books/inventing cattle machinery.” And I say “No, you are thinking of autistic savants who represent only about x-teeny-weeny per cent of autistic people, he isn’t gifted at anything, he’s just ordinary autistic”. And then there is nothing left to say.
See, takes allsorts. Rich tapestry. Life. etc
Comment by anj — 6 July, 2006 7:57 pm
Hey, ther’s nothing wrong with Rubenesque.
Who the hell wants to live with a stick insect?
No one I know.
…and that’s all of five people…excluding me.
Comment by TC — 6 July, 2006 7:58 pm
…oh, and next time slap the cheeky cow!!!!!!!!
Comment by TC — 6 July, 2006 7:59 pm
Ah Anna, not for nothing are you Queen of the Bloggers, such a beautiful post - funny and sad and poignant all at the same time. (Nurse Jean was a bitch, by the way, I think it’s written into their contracts or something.)
Comment by annie — 6 July, 2006 8:03 pm
Oh, honey. Maybe it wasn’t meant to, but that made me sad. :( And that nurse ought to be fired - seriously, that is hideous service.
Good on you for actually meaning it when you say you don’t mind being “big” (bigger, larger, not tiny), so much as minding it that people mind you’re not tiny.
I know how you feel - I was training competitively in kickboxing and all the other girls weighed 50-60kg of tinyness. I was fit, and slim, but felt fat and blocky because I am naturally larger. I would rather be strong (I am) than tiny (I’m NOT lol), but I still feel unhappy when I look in the mirror. :P
Good luck!
Comment by Dana — 6 July, 2006 8:16 pm
I know exactely how you feel, and I really like the way you’ve said it.
Comment by Magpie — 6 July, 2006 8:39 pm
Been there, done that, still have the t-shirt in a drawer in case I slim down enough for it to fit properly again…
But I’d be the first to admit that the social stigma thing is worse for women.
Marvellous post, as ever.
Comment by Rob — 6 July, 2006 9:29 pm
I especially relate to you about buses - sometimes, on crowded buses, I almost get panicky, thinking of all the people I will have to push past, trying to get off before the driver moves off again.
I’ve even had people assume I’m pregnant(on at least 3 occasions)and now I say, “I’m not pregnant, just fat,” and hope that will teach them never ever again to assume someone’s pregnant just because they look it.
The occasion that made me the most angry was when I was on my bike, turning left and some people crossed the road in front of me without looking. I shouted, “Watch out!”, wanting to save them from being careened into. Their response? “F**k off, you fat c**t”…
Comment by Andria — 6 July, 2006 9:39 pm
I’m right there with you. A few years ago I lost 70 pounds. After moving here, I have gained so much weight I don’t fit in my clothes from last summer. I doubt I could fit in my wedding dress and I thought I was too chubby then.
Stuart doesn’t care but I care. I want to fit in my pretty clothes again.
low carbing worked for me before so I am doing that again and walking.
My worst story that someone did to me that made me feel huge. . . Four years ago in LA I was going to go see a movie. I got off the bus at Sunset and Orange to walk for 20 minutes or so to where the movie theatre was near Sunset and Fairfax. I find when I am trying to lose weight, little things like that really help.
A guy was walking toward me and I could feel he was checking me out. As he walked by he said, “You might be alright if you lost some weight fat ass!”
Then he brayed at me as he walked away. “Hee-Haw! Hee-Haw!”
I burst into tears. People stare if you walk in LA. If you are walking and crying they really stare.
The funny part was when I lost weight and got down to 135 I went through a two year sex drought. I looked fantastic - not a Keira stick insect but Marilyn Monroe curvy- and I couldn’t get laid. That kinda sucked.
Slowly the weight crept back up and then the last six months here I am. . . 30 pounds heavier. At least it isn’t 70. . .
Anyway, good for you for finding positive action out of that terrible woman. You’re an amazing lady. You can accomplish anything that you put your mind to.
Comment by Nicole — 6 July, 2006 10:36 pm
Am SO with you - I waver all the time between wanting to be thinner and wanting to not want to be thinner (ie to be happy) but what actually annoys me the most is when people say in that congratulatory tone “oh you’ve lost weight” - it makes me want to shout “what EXACTLY was wrong with me before?”. As if there could be nothing better than to be thinner, and that my losing weight must be a hard fought campaign to be like them, rather than more like a bit of a whim of the moment; a lapse from preferring to be able to eat normally.
And yes, men, out in public, stare right through me too. Which in some ways I take comfort from; after all, I still get them occasionally, so SOMETHING must be right with my personality.
Comment by The B — 6 July, 2006 10:39 pm
Commentators 1-11 said the comforting truth so nothing to do with weight: - more to do with the French. I’ve never met a quiet French citizen or one who knew when to stop talking. Lets use the channel tunnel for ‘Guinness Book of Records qualifying’ long distance bowling - maybe with grenades. Don’t get me started on Belgians. Wait, back to weight, my view is only be critical of larger people (god I’m going PC) if they regularly frequent McDonalds, then they’re fair game. Gruniad and MaccyD’s not compatible mehopes. ‘How to look good naked’ (Ch.4 prog?) and campaignforrealbeauty are helping change attitudes and bandaging self esteem. Chin up.
Comment by GazH — 6 July, 2006 11:02 pm
You’ve already done something.
Comment by lux — 6 July, 2006 11:11 pm
find the happy…the rest are incidentals and will follow or not…and you won’t care because you’re happy.
Comment by laurel — 6 July, 2006 11:48 pm
My grandmother once said to me, “You’re beautiful to us.” I didn’t take it as a compliment at the time. But I do know. We’re always beautiful (thin or fat or just right) to the people who really matter.
Comment by Pam — 6 July, 2006 11:49 pm
Anthony Worall Thomspon doesn’t look particularly thin and I bet he doesn’t go to McD’s.
They do salads now.
Comment by McAnj — 6 July, 2006 11:53 pm
Well done, Anna. Very well done.
I hope that people who are not overweight will read this post and learn something about how their comments, no matter how well-meant, can hurt.
I agree with Dana about the nurse. She should be fired. I’m surprised no one at the hospital told her to pipe down or apologize. It was appalling.
Comment by Marie in Kourou — 7 July, 2006 1:26 am
Now I can’t get that Queen song out of my head.
Comment by drew — 7 July, 2006 2:05 am
I hadn’t thought of that, Drew. You’ve passed the earworm on to me now. I’ll listen to something else to drown it out.
Comment by Marie in Kourou — 7 July, 2006 2:21 am
I think NURRRSE JEAN has taken that new NHS training course. Their new objective in dealing with every patient, is to make them want to leave hospital as quickly as possible. Frees up beds, don’t you see? And it worked well on you, too, I bet - can’t imagine you want to go back there any time soon! Pushes them up in the league tables, dunnit? Ahem.
Getting more serious, though, I spent a sizable portion of my life heavily obese. More than anything, what I hated was not that I was so fat, but that people saw me as somehow inferior, a lesser person, and fair game for abuse when/if they felt like handing some out. Eventually, I even felt like a non-person. More than anything, it’s the effect of those people that still pisses me off, and, in some ways, gets to me. When I walk down the street, even now (I lost a lot of weight, over 8 stone), if someone looks at me, I brace myself for the random rude comment, or abuse. If I hear laughter, they must be laughing at me. I’m constantly prepared for some idiot to come up to me and hit me, just to see what I’ll do (this happened more often than you might think). It’s unwarranted fear, as I’m no longer fat (aside from a little extra weight, which is also coming off), but it’s still there… and I hate that it still has that effect on me. Yes, I was fat, huge, even, and yes, that was a problem for me, mainly because of possible health problems, and my own self-image, but why the fuck should that be anyone else’s business? Why did that become the only important aspect of me, and why was I pitied? The absolute worst part of being fat, is not actually that you are, it’s the way everyone thinks of you as a result.
With that said, though, Anna… I’m sure you’ll take this as either me being nice, or a result of your only ever showing us the nice pictures where you hide it well, but I’ve seen numerous pictures of you over the years I’ve been lurking around here, and I never once thought you were fat. Not even chubby, honestly. (I think my first reaction was more like “Wow, she’s really good-looking”, but I digress.) And I think it’s far more important that you are happy. And I wish you good luck on your crusade, wherever it leads you.
This may officially be The Longest Comment Ever. I’m sorry. You just managed to really strike a nerve, with this post. (Well, you normally do, but this wasn’t my humour nerve.) The whole thing is something I feel a bit strongly about.
Comment by Fraz — 7 July, 2006 3:18 am
I used to be very obese…270 lbs.
Now that I weigh almost half that, I can say that while being thin doesn’t make all your problems go away it makes it a hell of a lot easier.
I relate w/ Fraz…I still brace for the ridicule, stares and shit and it’s been 11 years.
Comment by loralee — 7 July, 2006 5:13 am
Anna, when we met I thought you were beautiful. I’m not sure that this is the right thing to say in response to your very moving post, but it’s what I thought when I read it.
Light, heavy, fat, thin, personally I believe that it’s how you feel about yourself which is the most important thing. If that’s sorted then the rest should fall into place. If you crack that one let me know how, huh?
Aside from all that, Nurse Jean is clearly a very rude woman who has lost sight of the fact that she works with people. I’d quite like to slap her.
Comment by Cheerful One — 7 July, 2006 9:17 am
what a brilliant post… anna, you rule the school! i can relate to every word and even feel a wee bit teary!
i struggled with this issue of feeling unhappy with my weight yet feeling like i was some sort of feminist failure by letting so much of my happiness be related to my size. but despite having loving friends and nice job and not being a sociopath, all that couldn’t override the general crappiness of crying in clothes shops and feeling like i was the object of pity or disgust; or worse of all, the shitty feeling that i was invisible to the general population despite being a highly visible size 28.
it’s taken me over 5 years to become 12 stone lighter, a size 14. i will always be deemed curvy but i ain’t giving up my Green & Blacks to get any smaller! but losing the weight has not been about joining Team Clone, but rather just taking better care of myself and finally learning to like me, and be comfortable in my body with all its flaws and wobbly bits. i no longer walk into a room and assume everyone thinks i am a useless lump, which really makes life that much more pleasant.
sorry about the essay but i think the last para of this entry was so smart and inspired. we all think you rule! i still would like to kneecap that nurse!
Comment by shauna — 7 July, 2006 9:34 am
A beautiful post… Because of your astounding insights, I feel I cannot and should not add anything.
But I do feel I have to say something about the “reactions of other people”, offer some of my own anecdotes that is.
I am not slim, either. I am also 175 cm tall, which is not really much, is it. But I did manage to shock my professor before the oral diploma exam - he was so much smaller. A shadow fell over his face when I stood next to him and it was no good sign.
I once worked for a hotline and the inofficial leader of the pack was much smaller than me. He caused me a lot of trouble and at first I didn’t even know why, till I noticed the same shadow whenever I stood next to him.
I also have quite large feet and regularly get embarassed when having to buy shoes. Because in most shops , the “orthopaedic” design starts at my number and all those lovely things from the shop window are not to be had. And the salespersons will show pity or disdain.
Not long ago, there was a gynaecologist who wanted to know whether it was my first time ever, visitng a gynaecologist (I’m a 33-year-old Eastern European, you see).
And so on and so on. I’m quite sure that whatever we do, there will always be some people who have their own special feelings and resentments about it. Family, friends, strangers on the street…
My idea of ideal weight is that it enables you to move, as much as you feel you need to, to match your mental agility.
Comment by alcessa — 7 July, 2006 10:04 am
Thank you very much, all.
I hadn’t thought that this post might resonate with people in so many different ways. It’s really touching - and your comments (and emails) have made me cry. Several times. And I’m not PMTYish or Anything.
As I say, it’s always been a subject I don’t talk about - the NURSE JEAN! incident happened a few months ago, and I was too ashamed to tell anyone but my beloved - but maybe it’s a better idea to talk about it. Especially if it’s funny. It might help. Someone. Somehow. Or something.
Hey! Perhaps this should be the first chapter of my book - wait for it - “How I learned to stop worrying and love my bum”.
[Any free range publishers who happen to hanging around out there are, as always, Extremely welcome to contact me via the usual email adress and take me up on that. Or agents. I'm not fussy.]
Anyway. Thank you all. Really much.
Comment by anna — 7 July, 2006 1:09 pm
Thank you for an amazing post. So funny, and sad, and absolutely spot-on. I especially empathise with the problem of not wanting to be told how to eat. Food is good. Food makes happy. Dieting makes food into *work*, and that’s just the most miserable thing.
And thinking about your post, and the comments, and writing a post of my own, I’m increasingly convinced there should be a book. I can’t publish yours, but I’ll buy it. Go Anna!
Comment by scroobious — 7 July, 2006 1:35 pm
Lots to say, but can’t make it coherent, so here’s a list:
1. I hope you weren’t thinking that we would think less of you for writing that
2. Nurse Jean has a problem if she’s that defensive about how she does her job - she’s there to make your life better, not worse!
3. Always console yourself that nobody can say your arse is the size of a bus when it’s on the bus
4. This book helped me a tremendous amount - it’s an anti-diet book, about food, psychology, weight and their eternal interconnectedness. It’s essential reading for someone, who wants to take action, but doesn’t know what action to take: if not dieting, then what and he has a website too, called http://www.ifnotdieting.com which explains some of his ideas. And he’s for real - a real doctor who arrived at his ideas about eating and diets from treating anorexic and bulimic patients - not some charlatan who makes money by making you feel bad about yourself.
5. Yoga is good to. I did Bikram’s yoga for a while. I was apprehensive at first, because I thought that Yoga was only for thin, lithe people. But after a couple of months I relised that yoga creates lithe people. And I also thought that yoga was about the physical activity, but it’s actually about what goes on in your mind.
6. I wish you could spend a day outside yourself looking in because you’re… you’re ace.
Comment by Damian — 7 July, 2006 2:14 pm
..one final warm, fluffy word or few from me on this (and then i’ll shurrup(for now))and with reference to comments made about how we judge and are defined, the bottom line, no pun intended, is you’re a human being. You just *are*. No further judgement needed ..and on that account as the very wise Bill and Ted said we should just “Be excellent to each other!”
Comment by anj — 7 July, 2006 3:05 pm
Anj, thank you, you’re lovely.
Can I just, though, in case anyone is getting the impression that I’m *Not Fine*, reassure you that I am, actually, fine?
In fact, I’m finer than fine? In fact, I’m fabulous?
Thanky.
Also, is it now cool to use quotes from Bill and Ted as genuine social and philosophical currency?
Bodacious.
Comment by anna — 7 July, 2006 3:31 pm
Fabulous… and ace.
Comment by Damian — 7 July, 2006 3:58 pm
You are, in fact, very fabulous. There are a lot of people out there who relate to this, because of the vocal minority of Very Rude People.
I am not skinny either. I am, I suppose you would say, curvy. And huggable. And I’ve accepted that, for the most part, which is far far better than forcing yourself into a body shape that isn’t naturally You. Some people are naturally skinny, and I bet everything in the clothes shops looks great on them, but damnit big hips are going to come back into fashion one day and I’m gonna be there when they do!
Comment by Anna F — 7 July, 2006 4:01 pm
I’ve just written a post relating to my own “Body Dysmorphia”. It’s such a complicated subject - you have captured the contradictory feelings perfectly.
Comment by anxious — 7 July, 2006 4:29 pm
Who out of us can say we’re completely happy with ourselves? Only the liars. I’m glad to be me, and most of the time I’m, well. definitely NOT unhappy, I’m alright.. But sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and I hate my minging skin (I have eczema, on occassion I look like I’ve been attacked by teenwolf, which is no bad thing as it was an early fantasy of mine). But such is life and this is the hand I’ve been dealt.
Being curvy is nothing strange in this country (or this world), but there does seem to be this stigma that if you’re a non stick thin woman you either have to be loudly celebrating your size and sticking two fingers up at everyone (the dawn french effect), or be desperately unhappy and doign anything to lose weight (the geri halliwell effect). Why can’t we all just be *normal* and not have to act in a certain way.
What is the thing other readers (?) hate most about themselves?
Comment by Amy — 7 July, 2006 5:24 pm
Oh Anna - don’t pay any attention to her (dopey and insensitive) BIG FAT words! You’re you and nobody has the right to tell you what size or shape you should be!
Diets don’t work apart from whittling away your self-esteem rather than your waistline! Ignore her and find another practice.
Comment by Sooz — 7 July, 2006 6:03 pm
Thank you, Anx - I recognised so much in your too…
Sooz - don’t worry, I was so offended, I left no only the practice, but the entire city.
Well, perhaps that’s not exactly why, but don’t worry - this was months ago. You know that ‘I’ll look back on this in a few months and laugh’ feeling. Well, it’s one of those. I have those ALL THE TIME.
Comment by anna — 7 July, 2006 6:09 pm
>Also, is it now cool to use quotes from Bill and Ted as genuine social and >philosophical currency?
Most excellently is, dudette!
>What is the thing other readers (?) hate most about themselves?
Being totally uncool.
Comment by anj — 7 July, 2006 6:09 pm
Honey, if you’re uncool then let’s form a club. I was just excited because if it IS cool again to do this, then I can unlock that special door in my mind that’s kept these precious tools of communication locked away , safe from the mocking eyes of society all this time.
Party on, Anj!
Comment by anna — 7 July, 2006 6:12 pm
club? can you play air guitar?
wyld stallyonettes?
Comment by anj — 7 July, 2006 6:36 pm
When I first moved to the UK, it took me a long time to feel okay in my skin. Took me a long time to accept that this skin was mine, and in order for me to be able to do anything remotely positive, I had to accept and love the skin I was in. And I did. My whole life I have yo-yo’ed. Been bulimic and thin. Been sad and overweight. Been thin and sad. Teetered between ideal weight and a few pounds too much.
Have felt more self conscious back here in Vancouver than I ever have before, could be the fact I live with a personal trainer who has no body fat at all. Or the fact everyone is so active.
Anna - I miss you. And never lose sight of the fact you are a remarkable, and beautiful woman.
Comment by ladymissmarquise — 7 July, 2006 6:52 pm
I won’t go near the doctor in case I’m weighed or have my blood pressure taken. I’m not huge, but I used to be slim and I won’t be again (after 40, choose between face and figure, I console myself).
In your case, it’s a bit inconvenient, but I’d look for a different method of birth control.
Comment by z — 7 July, 2006 6:55 pm
Don’t start a ‘things we hate about ourselves’ type thing… this could be a very full commenty place :/
Comment by Anna F — 7 July, 2006 8:05 pm
When I was your age I suddenly noticed I was kind of largish (a friend pointed it out to me, which was very nice of her, I thought). Then I decided to do something about it, and got a little bit lighter, and then got bored and then did that vacillation of sometimes thinking oh fuck it, i don’t care, and then thinking, oh bother, i’m going to make myself a bit thinner, and then thinking oh fuckit…
I suspect that is woman’s lot. The vacillatory thing, I mean.
I’m currently steadfastly refusing to pay attention to the extra bits of me that are gathering at strategic point about my body, because as soon as I finish this blasted novel I’m goign to get pregnant, and did you know that largish women actually have healthier babies and better pregnancies? And dieting whilst pregnant is a Very Bad Thing Indeed. Honestly. It’s true. Plus also there’s a 60% chance it’ll make me Horribly Ill and I’ll lose two stone like I did last time and my body will have to eat itself cos it’ll have nothing else to eat and in that case I’d better start off largish hadn’t I, or else what will my body eat?
So there you go. Just get pregnant. Then you can weigh what the hell you like.
Comment by Clare — 7 July, 2006 8:57 pm
Anna, I love you. Great post, Evil Nurse. Shapely Ladies galore!
Comment by Alexandra — 7 July, 2006 9:01 pm
hi anna, sorry but I am commenting again on your website but not in response to you this time (that was no.11) but in response to someone else (no.20.)
Fraz, I know that feeling, and i’m sure so does anyone who has ever not quite been right for their contemporaries aged “early puberty”. Whether too fat, too thin, too knock kneed, too heavily breasted or not enough, too clever too stupid. It doesn’t matter what it is; if you are that kind of child and they are that kind of bully, it happens. There are so many of us who spend every day of our lives thinking that that burst of laughter on the street is directed at us.
It isn’t good for us. We have to move on. I say this, not having managed to do so, but… we have to try.
Comment by The B — 8 July, 2006 2:23 am
I’ve had many different reactions to reading blog posts before, but I’ve never felt the sick feeling in my gut that I got when reading that post. As several other commentor’s have already said, it was like you looked inside my head to write that.
Your post really touched me. I’ve tried to write a comment about four times about this post (something that I’ve neevr been spurred on to do before) and nothing seemed to do justice to my feelings, so I’ll just suffice to say well done on being able to move people with your words, and for your courage in writing about one of the few topics that is still taboo.
Comment by JK — 8 July, 2006 2:02 pm
hello,
im not sure if ive commented before or just keep meaning to, but eitherway i will now. that was such a good post, and i, along with at least 40 something other people according to these comments feel something similar- only i couldnt write about it nearly as well.
i dont like to give un-asked for advice, but if you did want to know about some things that can help with blood pressure, and/or hayfever! let me know (random i know sorry, just thought id offer…)
Comment by monkey — 8 July, 2006 11:14 pm
The one thing I have learnt in life is that weight is personal. Weather you want to lose it, put it on, weather you are thin or not so thin, it’s all about what you feel will make you comfortable and about nothing else.
External things affect what makes us comfortable about ourselves, and it’s hard to filter out our own view of ourselves from our perceived view of how people perceive us.
Um, I’m not sure what I’m saying. Be you, because you are lovely. There should be more yous.
Comment by Adrian — 9 July, 2006 12:08 pm
The B (#44) - Oh, believe me, I know all of this. And in truth, the occasions when this happened in adulthood were always more of a problem for me to deal with than when I was a kid… but I may have exaggerated a little in my comment (Anna’s post just happened to spark up a little rage in me, I guess). Growing more comfortable with myself over time has lessened its impact on me, I think, and hope that with time, the same will happen for you. I am, for the most part, past it, and it’s not as if I’m unable to deal with people; it just crops up in my more insecure moments.
I think a little part of me will always stay at least minimally prepared for such things in situations around strangers, but I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing, anyway - remembering such things serves as a useful reminder not to make similar mistakes yourself, in dealing with other people.
Regardless, thanks for your concern, and taking the time to write that specifically to me. I appreciate it, but I’d like to reassure you that, like Anna, really, I’m fine. :)
Comment by Fraz — 9 July, 2006 3:04 pm
Amazingly lovely honest writing Anna.
Comment by petite — 9 July, 2006 4:31 pm
Maybe it’s not kryptonite, maybe it’s gold. Much more likely; valuable, loved and envied in equal measure, the foundation of whole economic and social structures. Sounds much more like little red boat.
Personally, I love food; brought up on it, you see. I don’t think I’m very light but I don’t own scales so can’t be sure. Waist measurements work better for me - if I go up a size I try to eat less because I’d need a whole new wardrobe and, being male, I’m no good at clothes shopping. If I’m still a size bigger, it was obviously fate and the world had better bloody well cope. If world’s got a problem with that, it just needs to know that heavier = punches harder (mind you, if it tries to run away, I’ll get out of breath first if I can be arsed to give chase).
Comment by JJ — 9 July, 2006 10:33 pm
You know.. you could always snap back at her when you’ve had your fill, cuz I know I certainly would’ve lost it on her ages ago and will happily fly all the way over there and do it for you for free if you’d allow, and tell her, “Well, you may think I’m fat, but at least I’m nice. I don’t think I could say the same of you.” Of course, I would say this well after anything she would be about to do.. say poking me w/ a sharp needle. And then I would request another nurse.. You don’t have to put up w/ callous people like that. Can’t you complain about her? Again, I’ll come over and kick the mean nurse in the knee for you!
In all seriousness.. I know that’s not the point.. and you wrote a beautiful and honest post.. and I’m sorry people are such insensitive jackasses. Weight is not a measure for judging who you are and I hate that people do that.. I don’t have to know you to know you are lovely no matter what. I agree w/ the person who said there should be more you’s.
Comment by Angel — 10 July, 2006 7:49 am
Ah, it happened a few months ago? If it was recently I bet I could have guessed the surgery. I used to live in Brighton and there is one which is famed for the rudeness of its staff. In fact I might email you the name anyway, in case you are switching to a Doctor in Brighton, so you know to avoid it.
Comment by Clare — 10 July, 2006 8:01 am
Sorry - just wanted to say don’t worry, I haven’t fallen through a weak wooden floor or something, I just still don’t have much internet at home.
Back in a second.
Comment by anna — 10 July, 2006 10:12 am
You know, a friend of mine who isn’t with B’dog has just moved. Her provider told her that it is currently a 40 day wait for internet. Assuming that Bulldog is the same, you should have it any week now.
Comment by Damian — 10 July, 2006 10:34 am
We’re not going with Bulldog anymore.
They were just too shit to be believed.
We decided to go with - look, sorry, I’m not going to talk about this, it’s just really fucking dull, and not anything that anyone wants to read about, and remarkably something I can’t be arsed to write about, either.
The complications inlude:
No existing physical line for a phone to be connected to
A rotten mast
An inability to attach a broadband contract to a non-existant line
A forced consulatation with 4 businesses none of whom can agree
A conservation area and associated council requests etc
My dwindling patience with the entire subject.
If it was an hilarious tale, I would have found a way to write about it. Unfortunately it is, instead, a long, dull, frustrating tale in which I continue not to have internet. Or a phone number. Or a television signal, which is not strictly connected but still part of the whole picture.
Comment by anna — 10 July, 2006 10:42 am
[...] Go read Anna’s post, “You’ve got the loveliest skin … and so much of it.”. [...]
Pingback by chasingdaisy.com » Blog Archive » Every once in a while — 10 July, 2006 2:01 pm
NURRRSE JEAN! put me in mind of Watership Down’s Keehar.
Comment by Huw — 10 July, 2006 3:26 pm
Hi Anna,
I was just thinking about you because I was sitting at my desk with a packet of crisps and a piece of chocolate cake: Ever since I decided that impending pregnancy was a licence to stay fat, I’ve been enjoying a plentiful supply of junk food.
Anyway, I was thinking about this post and I thought the following things:
1. Muscle weighs more than fat. Maybe you’re fitter than you think?
2. Health professionals tell people they’re fat and they base it all on arbitrary numbers. The medical definition of fat is nothng like most ordinary people’s. I was told by my doctor that I was overweight and it was probably causing the knee problem I went to him about. But in fact, I was not very far into the medical definition of overweight. I didn’t look particularly fat. Unless you were to compare me to models and Big Brother contestants, in which case yes, I looked fat. But compared to most normal women, I was not fat. I was just normal. OK, so high street dress sizes made me a size 18, but size 18 is NOT VERY FAT. And having seen a photograph of you in that gorgeous dress you bought on the internet (about a year ago?), I reckon your body is similar to mine. Not stupid-unnatural-skinny, just normal. And damn bloody sexy with it. I lost a stone after the doctor spooked me, and now I’m just under the official overweight line, which makes me officially “healthy” and fit into smaller dress sizes, but it was only a stone and I did it by not being in a rush. Doing a slow sensible enjoyable diet, instead of a mad stupid crash one. I gave myself a year to lose a stone, and because I did it slow and sensible and without punishing myself, I managed to do it.
3. Fwiw I did it by rationing the amount of treats I was allowed per week (Four treats per week, an evening of drinking counts as one treat). Apart from that I just ate healthily and normally, and I had various rules like “If hungry, then eat” and “If you fancy junk food, eat toast instead cos you’re probably just hungry” and “Never count calories” and “Never weigh yourself”. (Obviously I did occasionally, but I threw my own scales away and only used the 50p ones at the leisure centre, once a fortnight)
4. Men stare through me, too. Just as much now as when I was a stone heavier. Unless I’m wearing a short skirt or cleavage-enhancing clothing. Any woman can get men to stare at her - she just has to accentuate bum, legs or tits. Weight is irrelevant. All-over clothing makes men stare through you, clothing with strategic bits missing makes men stare at you - whoever you are.
Comment by Clare — 10 July, 2006 4:08 pm
I got weighed on Friday. I weigh 10 kilogrammes more than I did 10 years ago when I was told to lose 5.
But I don’t care. I don’t want to put any more on, because that would mean a new wardrobe. I have that thing of stick-insects loooking at me with pity and I laugh at them. Because it seems the only thing that matters to them is the way they look. Not even the way they look, but the height width ratio. They waste hours of their life at the gym doing mind-numbingly boring exercises which leave them with no appetite for food, sex or life.
I spend my leisure time enjoying the delightful taste of beautiful food and exquisite wine whilst savouring the stimulating company of my chosen companion(s) before going on somewhere to expand my mind (or home to blog) and I end my day with life affirming sex with one of the many men who admires my curves.
On the other hand, serves you right for giving up smoking…
Comment by Gert — 10 July, 2006 6:18 pm
{{HUGS}} on the old no-phone-no-telly-no-internet thing, btw. I sympathise.
Comment by Clare — 10 July, 2006 8:32 pm
Greetings … stumbled upon your site and loved the post. I’m a curved beauty too … whatever you do, or don’t do, do or don’t do it for yourself! Smiles & cheers from across the puddle!
Comment by Deborah — 11 July, 2006 12:15 am
I have been large and little. I am currently largish. I looked HORRID when I was thin and little and I was MISERABLE. My skin hung off me.
That girl who supposedly ‘pitied’ you is probably jelous of your talent and beauty.
Curves are in in a major big way now - have a look at the covers of REVEAL etc.
I really enjoyed your post.
Comment by northerncreative — 11 July, 2006 2:40 pm
You’re all missing the point, its not about size, it is about health. High blood pressure is not healthy. Be happy with your whatever your shape, but are you fit? Do you have a healthy heart and lungs no matter what size your jeans are?
Don’t ever ‘diet’ just eat well and get regular exercise, something you enjoy to get the heart pumping the endorphins rushing.
Comment by Zine — 11 July, 2006 4:10 pm
My blood pressure was, it turns out, only high that day, or that week or whatever. The nurse at the surgery I’ve just joined in Brighton was - is, lovely, and has advised me to stop taking the medicine I was needlessly given by the London surgery.
And yes, well, maybe I’m not as fit as I could be - but I’m getting there…
And no, of course I, nor anyone else, is saying it’s great to be massively overweight and unhealthy. It’s just not as cut and dried as thin/good fat/death.
As some people think it is. Actually, speaking of which, people might have missed this article. Which, frankly, was so appallingly researched and sickeningly one-sided, it made me want to punch people.
Comment by anna — 11 July, 2006 4:26 pm
At the very least you should report that nurse. Her behaviour was cruel, indifferent and unprofessional.
I feel your pain about clothing. At least back home in the States you have more options. Evans is so shit that it makes me want to cry.
Comment by Amanda — 12 July, 2006 10:39 am
It really is, Amanda? Oh thank god, I thought it was just me. Seriously, I thought I was even a funny shape for a fat lass.
The best dresses and clothes I have have been imported from the US. I’m thinking moving there for wardrobe alone might be a *little* extreme, but perhaps not entirely out of the question.
Am getting much inspiration from your blog, btw. Yum. It’s so nice to know there are lvoely bloggers in Brighton. It makes me feel all settled and happy. I know that’s probably silly, but it does.
Comment by anna — 12 July, 2006 10:45 am
what a lovely poster on amanda’site for the Choccywoccy Boudoir…but wait… what’s that on the window…??
http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1481/2499/1600/DSCF0435.jpg
Comment by anj — 12 July, 2006 1:09 pm
you know, skinny people look older sooner -
my mum’s not exactly thin, but she has barely any wrinkles. So, that’s got to count for something, right?
Comment by Alicia — 12 July, 2006 3:06 pm
Hmmm. As a curvy person who loves food I could have written your post (though not quite as well obv.)
However, in the last few weeks I have been trying Seth Roberts’ (with whom I am in no way affiliated) Shangri-la Diet. He’s been marketing it via blogs, so there’s loads of info about it out there, though this was the blog post that got me into it.
http://headrush.typepad.com/creating_passionate_users/2006/05/the_strangest_e.html
The premise is completely mental, so much so that I thought it was a hoax when I first read about it. Essentially you have two periods of fasting for two hours minimum during a day, during which you consume nothing but a tablespoon of flavourless oil, or drink sugared water. And that’s it.
There’s some spurious-sounding science behind it but essentially it’s supposed to act as an appetite suppressant. And it sounded so mad and so easy that I decided to try it. And I’m eating everything I want to eat, but I’m definitely eating LESS, without feeling hungry, or using any willpower whatsoever. And I’m losing weight. Slowly, but definitely.
Weird stuff, but you may want to try it. At the very least you could get a couple of blog posts out of it.
Comment by Paola — 12 July, 2006 10:54 pm
Paola - thank you for the information.
I don’t think I will though, you know?
I mean, it looks really great, and I’m glad it’s working out for you, but I’m really trying to stay away from the whole ‘I don’t know how it works, but it does!’-Fad-diet-industry, and concentrate on eating healthily, cutting back on alcohol, sugars, fats etc - and doing lots of exercise.
Also, I disagree very strongly with blogs being used as marketing tools. I think it’s a terrible shame. Apart from this guy, obviously. He’s just hilarious.
Comment by anna — 13 July, 2006 11:47 am
[...] “You’ve got the loveliest skin … and so much of it.” (from little.red.boat ) Search [...]
Pingback by Skin at Firmly Wedged — 14 July, 2006 12:53 am
with reference to earlier reference to Bill and Ted:
See-
Le Figaro called Zidane’s head-butt “odious”
But perhaps Mezzanine’s comments which provoked him (deliberately) made Maserati the “most odious.”
Comment by anj — 14 July, 2006 1:24 am
It’s clearly somewhat late to be weighing in (oh dear…) with my comment on this post. Sorry. I am always late.
So I thought your post was brilliant and brave and left me feeling overwhelmed. When I first started reading little red boat it was pretty obvious that you are smart and funny and lovely. Wanting to put a face to the blog, I looked at your About Me, and I concluded that you are also very pretty, and normal sized, ie notfat.
Which is all well and good, but left me feeling a tiny bit sad, resentful and wistful (as several times a day) that I can’t be in the club of ‘normal’ people, the ones who aren’t at least automatically disqualified from being happy, or attractive, or any kind of exciting.
So I was very surprised. You say it all so well, about not being able to admit to anyone that you hate it, and about being seen as pitiable. I hate walking around knowing a little bit all the time that people are seeing me as disgusting, and what’s worse, culpably so, and that it colours just a little bit every relationship I have. And I hate feeling all the time a little bit (or a lot) disgusting, and a little bit (or a lot) culpable (don’t mention the childhood…).
All of this, even though I’m basically happy being who I am.
So I too will never be skinny, but somehow became Determined. Whilst being determined I have learnt to dance, taken up Pilates, had some counselling (I was also determined to be more sane - mens sana and all that), and been swimming and cycling insufficiently often. Main obstacles to determination have been cake and having to go back and live with my family (enough to drive anyone to cake…). But I am still Determined, and I figure I’ll get there.
Thank you for the post - it’s good to feel not alone. Good luck.
Comment by Eloise — 14 July, 2006 10:40 am
Hey Anna,
I’m so sorry, I wasn’t trying to market anything via your blog. It’s just that your post struck a chord (particularly the bit about clothes shops and mirrors and cameras) and it sounded like you, as I do, already eat a reasonably healthy diet, just too much of it.
And for me this oil diet thingy somehow appears to have turned me into the sort of person who can leave food on her plate (this is a miracle); eat half a chocolate bar without OBSESSING over the other half; positively craves fruit and vegetables, and doesn’t even hear the siren call of the fridge if she’s not feeling hungry. Which has made my head a much more relaxing place to be with regards to food than it has been in ages.
But I shall stop banging on. Thanks anyway for writing the post and I hope you find the Thingasyetunspecified soon.
BTW, I haven’t included my blog address because you would HATE it :)
Comment by Paola — 15 July, 2006 1:40 am
Hi there - got directed via daisy and have sat here rivetted for the past ten minutes. I know how you feel. Suffering at the hands of clearly untrained (or trained but forgotten the training in customer care)medical staff seems to be a curse of anyone who isn’t the perfect shape/size. My friend weighs the same as i do, but has an extra 6 inches in height to distribute it over, so looks very good. She went to the nurse for the usual blood pressure check and the nurse told her she was going to do a “well woman” check also. This included height/weight. All done, the nurse, herself a small rotund lady, then starts to preach to my friend about the joys of losing weight and getting fit. Not only was she being given advice she didn’t want (my friend is happy within herself and enjoys life)but to receive it from someone who obviously didn’t take their own advice was just amazing. Weight and size issues are something that i touch upon every so often. Its a personal thing, and reading this entry I was nodding at almost everything. Especially the love weight gain. I’ve been through that recently, the first signs of weight gain were nice, that little extra to be held, but as the months went by, more went on and i felt less and less happy about it all. Good luck with whatever method you choose, walking is good, cycling is also. Take it steady and think positively. You are a beautiful person and anyone who can’t see past the outside is missing out on the wonderful lady inside.
Comment by felicity — 15 July, 2006 8:48 am
Thank you all - Eloise, not too late to the party at all, and thank you for leaving such long and beautiful comments, I continue to be immensely touched by the way people are responding to this post with stories etc.
Paola - Sorry, didn’t mean to get a bit ranty/ratty, it’s just that I have a dreadful habit - like so many other people - of subscribing to ‘I don’t know how it works but it does!’ diets for about two weeks and then never touching them again, which isn’t healthy for me. I understand the whole principle thing, and the appetite reduction thing sounds great - thing is, it’s just not the exact problem I have - me, it’s just not taking enough exercise and basically preferring little bits of rich food over little bits of bland food - it’s not that my appetite is too big, it’s just too discerning.
But thank you again - leave your url! Why would I hate it? I bet you anything I wouldn’t. I don’t hate anything. Except racists, homophobes, ‘new puritans’ and closed-minded right-wingers. And I’m sure you can’t be Any of those, you sound too nice.
Comment by anna — 15 July, 2006 6:38 pm
Hmmm. None of the above I hope.
But you did mention ‘disagreeing very strongly with blogs being used as marketing tools’. And my whole blog is a marketing tool for my little shop (though I do appear to have lost the plot a bit recently). So maybe you’d just disagree very strongly with it.
As for eating habits - you do sound more and more like me. I’m half-Italian, so have a genetic predisposition towards yummy food. Maybe we should just swap recipes instead?
Comment by Paola — 20 July, 2006 12:52 am