“Kemi, you are now FAT!” seems to be a recurring thread in the conversations I have these days. And no, I do not yet weigh 100kg and I am not a size 16. In fact I have not moved up a dress size. Yet, I get these comments. So maybe some of my regular size 8 tops are a little snug about my midsection where there was no snugness before. And maybe safety pins and the use thereof are now incorporated into my daily dressing. These days, when asked about my dress size, I hesitate a little. I’m not quite sure what to answer. Pride won’t let me say anything but an 8, comfort is urging me to say a 10. So I do the compromise. Please, all ladies regardless of their size know the compromise. “I wear an 8 but I could wear a small 10”
At least, I am still a size 8 at the end of the day.
Its not that moving up a dress size would be the end of the world as I know it, its just that I object strongly to the word ‘fat’ in reference to myself, either as a word in itself or in its comparative form ‘fat-ter’.
And when exactly do you begin to draw the line between become ‘fat’ and living the good life? ‘Coz when I began this downward spiral (as I think of it), everybody goes “Orr, its a sign of good living” Really? Because that’s how people would just keep on good-living me until I hit 16stone. It would all still be a sign of good-living.
Having done my research and investigation, I find that the culprit is CAKE. Every week seems to be some one’s birthday at work. And it would be rude to say no. Even the bible says to rejoice with those who rejoice. So I rejoice and I eat, and generously too. Fellow accomplices are the muffins and the croissants and the lavishly-buttered bread that I indulge in, all the while repeating “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day”.
But I guess at the end of the day, it comes down to loving the body you are in. I know beautiful size 14 people who have less of body hang-ups than I have.
Moral of the story, love the body you’ve got now and try to get the one you desire, HEALTHILY.
Here I am, off to go sing happy birthday yet again, eat yet another generous portion of cake and curse my love handles later tonight.