Things You Only Know If You’ve Lost Five Stone

Fat is a swear word, a knife cutting through the pounds of flesh of an overweight person. I’ve always been told I was fat, people chanted ‘boing, boing, boing’ as I walked down the school corridor. I used to be egged on to sit on some fear stricken boy’s lap, as if their body would be crushed by my ‘size 16 frame of obesity’. I was 18 years old.

I had an awful relationship with food. I’d come home from school and eat huge bowls of pasta, as a snack. It was a vicious circle of fat hating, and comfort eating, and when I broke up with my boyfriend aged 15, my weight ballooned to the biggest I’d ever been.

Since then, I’ve battled with my greedy mindset and overweight body straining under the amount of emotional fat I’d gained. Stretch marks everywhere, I used to wear thick, black tights to cover the ones on the back of my legs in fear of being ridiculed. My boobs grew to epic proportions, which at the time I saw as a bonus, but now realise there’s a difference between a good pair, and two huge pockets of fat that gave me terrible back ache.

I was miserable. My mum too, she was scared to tell me I’d reached a point where I couldn’t get any bigger. She had to be cruel to be kind and in the end told me that was it, I was going on a diet. And I did, and it was hard and embarrassing, and something that I, as a hormonal teenager, I didn’t want to admit I desperately needed to do. But over five stone lighter and a helluva lot healthier, I’ve learnt so much.

READ MORE: My Friend Lost Weight And Became The Dieter From Hell

I wasn’t really addicted to smoking

I kicked the awful habit around the time I began venturing into my healthy BMI zone. I just didn’t fancy it anymore, it felt unnecessary. I chained smoked on night’s out because I sweated so much in nightclubs from the excess weight I was carrying that I HAD to be outside. Because there I was away from the sweaty dance floor and gyrating strangers, where my hair stuck to my neck and my wet clothes clung to my body. So once the days of drying my sweat sodden hair under the hand dryer in the toilet, had gone, so was my addiction to nicotine.

Some friends’ support was surprising

The majority of my friends were fantastic, the constant support was so motivating. However there were others who didn’t seem so happy at my progress, they were almost jealous of my weight loss. They’d forgotten it was a harrowing battle for me and instead maliciously picked up on EVERYTHING, every bit of food I put in my mouth and every bit of exercise I did. ‘Should you really be eating that?’ they’d question, or ‘HA, you’re not doing it properly’, they’d smirk as I struggled to get my unfit body into shape. They’d lost their fat friend, the one they could rely on standing next to in a photo and looking ten times better. The one that made them feel good about themselves.

I’m vain

I admit I love looking at myself in the mirror, especially naked. Getting out of the shower I stare at my body, one that at such a young age, has already been stretched and shrunken, smiling at the definition in my back, as I never knew back fat was a thing until I lost it. I have a freckle on the bottom of my belly I never knew existed, once hidden under stomach rolls. And when I’m dressed up, or out shopping, I spend so long looking in the mirror because, I’m just not used to it. I now wear clothes I was so envious of other girls fitting into that I can’t help but spend longer admiring myself in them.

People accept your loudness

My parents nickname me ‘gobshite’. I’m loud and you’re guaranteed to hear me first in a crowd of people. But when I was bigger, this was such a negative characteristic. I made a lot of enemies because of it (mainly boys), who were under the impression that as I grew out in weight, I needed to shrink in personality. However now I’m thinner, many see my loudness as a trait of confidence and empowerment. People laugh at my jokes more, listen to my opinions; they almost respect me for being loud.

READ MORE: Confessions Of A Diet Saboteur

Men are still shallow

I had low expectations of men when I was bigger; because I was ‘fat’ I assumed I couldn’t aim high in boyfriends. The men I fancied were always shallow pricks, and the thought of getting off with a ‘fattie’ was hilarious. Well, I’ve got news for you; men are still as shallow as they were when I was five stone heavier. I’ve learnt that thinness doesn’t necessarily equal attractiveness, and although admittedly male attention towards me has grown, they will still find faults in my appearance - like they do with all women. There are men now who consider my size 10 figure as overweight (I kid you not…)

**I worry about my weight more now than ever before **

People think now that I’ve reached my goal weight I stop. It never stops. Everyday I wake up and I worry about my weight, because I’m so terrified of being that girl again. I count every calorie I eat and some say that I’m obsessed, but it makes me happy. I can’t remember what pizza tastes like, but I don’t care. I still have chunky thighs, a massive arse, stretch marks and I LOVE food. I worry about my weight, but I no longer have to worry about bullies, and sweat, and chaffing, and wearing a t-shirt in the pool, and being ignored. It’s still a struggle, but the benefits (literally) outweigh any of the downsides.

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Follow Vicky on Twitter: @VickyChandler

This article originally appeared on The Debrief.