Thursday, 30 March 2017


I'm lying in bed and can't sleep because my chest and stomach actually hurt. Not from pain, nothing's physically wrong, but it hurts. Like when someone's cruel to you. Or some you care about isn't kind. Like when the blood rushes out of you because someone's pushing you away. Or like when someone stabs you in the back.

It's actually hurting and I can't sleep.

Usually when I blog it's a 5 hour affair. No joke- it takes me sooo long to write. I write directly on my laptop, get the right photos uploaded, proof read, and no matter how much I try, it takes hours. Then again - have you read the length of my posts? ;)

Anyway this one is different. I'm lying in my bed on my side, typing this into my iPhone notes. I don't intend on finding a pretty picture and because I'll be posting it from my phone, I'm limited in what I can do. But that's ok, because (as always) it's the content that's the most important. And I need to get this out before I go to sleep.

If you follow me on social media you may have seen my post earlier tonight about how I read something that I shouldn't have. I'll screenshot it and include it when I transfer this from my iPhone notes to Blogger.

Instead of repeating it, you can just read it yourself:

Firstly, thank you so so SO much for the tons of comments I've been receiving on all platforms and a couple of friends who even called and texted. I feel so supported and you've all helped ease the hurt a little. I'm going to read the comments properly tomorrow but please know that they have not gone unnoticed.

This whole issue has me so riled up that it's ridiculous. I can't stop thinking about it. I'm supposed to be recovering today after an overwhelming day in hospital yesterday yet instead I feel even more unsettled than I did this morning. I was fragile but handling it, but now I just hurt.

I still get incredulous when I find out that people are talking about my weight, as if I don't know that it's an issue.

I read this thing years ago, and I have never forgotten it. It explains how I feel to a TEE. I've had a pretty decent Google search to see if I can find it, as it's right on the money, but I can't. If anyone knows where it originated from, or if anyone has a copy, please let me know as I would love to give credit to the brilliant author.

Basically it was one of those agony aunt /  "Ask Alice" columns in a magazine or newspaper. (I don't know if the authors name was indeed Alice, but you get the picture).

"Alice" or whoever she was, would answer satirical, clever responses to her readers questions.

One day someone wrote in and I'm going to write this out as best as I can remember. It went something like this:

Dear Alice,

I have a problem. My sister is really overweight and my mum and myself don't know what to do about it. We're worried about her health and we know it's a sensitive subject and we don't know how to broach it.

Please help, how do we tell her that she's fat and needs to do something about it?

From L.K.


Dear L.K.,

Thanks for your message. It seems you and your mum really care about your sister.

Now, this may come as a shock, and I really hate to break this to you, but if she's fat,....... SHE ALREADY KNOWS.

Love, Alice

Alice's response was a little longer but I'll never forget that golden line: "SHE ALREADY KNOWS."

We already know! We know people care and I get that people want to help and they're worried about our health and our wellbeing and most of the time it's done out of deep love and concern and is almost always well meaning. 


I know it every morning when I pull on the same black outfits every day because they're the only items that both fit and more effectively hide the skin rolls that I'm so self conscious about.

I know it every time I leave the house and someone, anyone looks at me.

I know it every time I sit in a chair in my doctors waiting room, hoping that when she calls my name, I won't become wedged in the sides of the chair as I stand up, and take the chair with me. It hasn't happened yet, but it's a fear every single visit.

I know it every time I'm a bridesmaid and I go to a fitting with smaller fellow bridesmaids and blink back tears when the bride isn't looking because I don't look as pretty as the other girls.

I know it every time a medical professional uses the "Extra large adult" sized cuff to take my blood pressure, kindly trying not to be obvious about it. I know they're crimson in colour, I know when I see one. We both pretend that it's the normal adult cuff, but we both know the truth.

I know it every time a particular relative glances me up and down every.single.time. he greets me, seemingly believing I can't tell where his eyes avert to. :/ #pleaseforoncejusthugmefirstbeforecheckingmyweight

I know it every time I see girls, women, friends, colleagues, strangers, in gorgeous outfits. In clothes that they may not think twice about but I envy with all my might, mentally visualising what I would choose to wear right now instead of my black "uniform", if I was their size.

I know it every time I take one step inside a clothing store, and the sales assistant either completely ignores me or does the "Pretty Woman thing" to me. Yes, that doesn't just happen in 1990's L.A.

I know it with every break down of tears I have in shop dressing rooms, because nothing fits. That's if it make it in there in the first place. I stopped putting myself through that torture years ago.

I know it with every heavy step I take, with every breath I take when walking up stairs, with every shower I take, with every time I'm in public, with every moment of every fucking day.

I have been trying to take action since I was 16 years old. (And on and off, before that, right from the age of 12). 

You don't need to tell me. You don't need to want a doctor to tell me. You don't need to wish that I would take action.

I've been actioning it for longer than you even recognised it was a problem. I action it every second of every day. Even when I'm not eating well, even when it doesn't appear so, I'm actioning it. I'm slipping in those times - but even that's part of the journey.

I understand that people who have never been overweight, obese, fat etc., don't get it. I'm glad they don't get it! I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

But please - PLEASE. If you know someone who is overweight, please trust me - you don't have to worry about telling them. I don't know what the answer is- it's different for everyone - but maybe just support them, talk to them, ask them questions, ask what you can do to help, stand by them, try to understand, encourage them.

But please don't think that you need to tell them.

Because as Alice says, and I wholeheartedly back up, WE ALREADY KNOW.

And I'll bet you that more times than not, you'll be able to tell this by looking for the constant lump in our throat, choking back tears. I can't speak on behalf of everyone, but trust me, most of us not only know, but we ARE actioning it. 


  1. Chin up, beautiful girl x

  2. I'm so glad you wrote this. I could literally feel your pain tearing at me as I read. I hope those that hurt you read your blog, I really do. All my love and endless support xxx Emily