So there it was. Revealed under the stark, harsh lighting in the changing room, surrounded by floor to ceiling mirrors on 3 sides was a body I detest.
Having managed to avoid the sight for a long while, it was difficult to avoid in this situation. The dreaded clothes shop. I knew I’d gained weight obviously, because none of my clothes fit any more and haven’t done for a quite a long time but I was honestly not prepared for the sight.
Now I’m not talking about a tiny spot of easily disguised cellulite here and there, I’m talking huge great lumps and bumps on a big fat frump. It’s not the kind of cellulite which appears if you squeeze really hard and get out a magnifying glass, it’s the kind of cellulite which is visible without squeezing, starting at my ankles, up my calves and thighs to my bum. Who even knew you can have cellulite by your ankles? Well, proof right here.
Completely and utterly grotesque. The newly acquired saddlebags hang down all saggy and my behind looks like the surface of the moon with bizarrely huge lumps/holes/bumps/grossness. This makes clothes shopping near impossible, it’s not so much going up a few sizes which bothers me, it’s more what is hidden underneath those bigger clothes which is so upsetting.
I am pathetic, I know this. Things could be a lot worse, I know this too. I am being superficial and ridiculous, yes, I know. It doesn’t change anything though. It doesn’t change the fact that I want to cut off my legs. I could feel my eyes welling up, now that is really stupid. I think it’s because it surprised me so much, and the lighting in changing rooms doesn’t do anybody any favours. It’s genetic, my Mum has a lot of it too and I can’t change the fact it covers my lower region. Although it didn’t completely disappear at my lowest weight, it was a lot less visible, in fact it was barely noticeable but now? Now, it might as well be fluorescent purple it stands out that much.
So what did I do? I went to Starbucks and bought a muffin. See, I don’t think I could stop gaining weight even if I wanted to. I felt horrible, fat, miserable, ugly because of this anorexia recovery and the first thing I do is go and buy something which makes me even BIGGER. I’ve gained a lot of weight, but I must need to gain more because my body still isn’t functioning as it should (I’ll spare you the details!) so I’m only going to get bigger, there’s no stopping now. Despite the horrible sight which ‘greeted’ me in the shop, I didn’t give up on the clothes buying because it’s pretty essential to have at least 1 pair of jeans which I can zip up. I tried on a few pairs which looked horrendous, and ended up buying a pair which look okish. They’re a bit snug but I was fed up by that point and bought them anyway. I did discover that bigger sized clothes which actually fit look a hell of a lot better than clothes which are a size too small and bursting at the seams.
I would absolutely love to have some degree of body acceptance. There are people who are truly happy with their body, whatever its size, and I envy that. I know I’m not gigantic, I know I’m no longer tiny, I’m just average – which is absolutely fine. It’s the average covered in cellulite I’m not so happy with. I have read a lot of blogs and articles about body acceptance, and body image, and I can do nothing but want that. I want it, but I don’t think I’ll ever have it. Ever.