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| The next Prime Minster of Great Britain |
"You're so much healthier now!"
"You're glowing."
"You look so much better."
"You don't look ill anymore."
"It's such a relief to see you looking healthy."
To any 'normal' person these things sound like perfectly reasonable compliments. If you've been ill and people begin to tell you that you no longer look like the back end of a cat, surely that would be nice to hear?
But what about if not only do you completely disagree with these comments, but they make you feel worse? It is so frustrating and such a secretive feeling because I KNOW that these people mean well, but little do they know is that by making note of my weight gain (albeit phrased differently) can actually make me feel shite.
I've been at a much healthier weight for about 18 months now. The longest period of time I've sustained a 'healthier' weight since I developed anorexia. My life has improved drastically, as I have pushed myself further into recovery, and it no longer hurts to sit on my bony arse (which I do pretty much all day) but little did I know is that a perhaps more crippling and tougher challenge was awaiting me: body image.
At the worst of my anorexia, I genuinely did not give two hoots about my body image. I often despised the way my skeletal body looked, wishing I could wear nicer clothes, but the majority of the time, my body image was not an issue. It was all about the food. Gaining weight in hospital was a bloody nightmare, essentially being force-fed and being constantly bloated to look like I was 8 months pregnant. Leaving hospital on my own terms to kick that bony anorexic arse was my opportunity to gain weight on my own terms, which I did. However, getting into a relationship and going on the pill (even though I didn't have periods) essentially pumped me with hormones and I can't help but feel that the pill was a big factor in my weight gain. I hate typing that because I wish I could be an inspirational eating disorder recovery advocate, telling you about me challenging myself step by step, but it was not like that - and being on the pill DID make me gain weight (it doesn't for everyone). However, I did perservere with my recovery and began to develop a much healthier relationship with food, all thanks to my therapist and boyfriend (not the same person, believe it or not).
Yet when I got to this point of appearing much healthier, I felt like a lost lamb. (Particularly living in Cardiff).
I've never been here before. I've only known skinny. Skinny jeans haven't been tight on me since I was sixteen. I now have to actually buy adult clothes. (Oh no, more excuses to go shopping...)
This is all so strange and so alien to me.
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| ^ ew. |
I was not prepared for this overwhelming feeling of hating myself so much. Sure, things in my life were going well, but I could not avoid my reflection or my body. I'm bloody attached to it for goodness sake. Hours spent scrolling through old photos of my malnourished body, evenings spent wiggling my bingo wings around or analysing my jiggly thighs, wanting to tuck them away.
I can't live with this mentality forever. I appear so happy and confident on the outside, and yet inside I feel so lost. (Deep shit, apologies). The only way I have been used to coping with this feeling is by losing weight....
But fuck doing that again, I am never stepping foot in an eating disorder ward for as long as I live. Unless it's to set fire to it (after rescuing the patients of course).
Losing weight is for failures, and skeletons are for Halloween.
I, like millions of girls, follow too many instagram accounts of other girls from Made In Chelsea, Love Island, and general social media influencers who have 'body goals.' They live the life of luxury where they get to go to the gym for free (in fact, many are even paid to go to the gym for 'exposure'), they get free blowdrys, fake tans, holidays, manicures, fanny waxes, eyelash extensions, botox etc. etc. We follow these girls, for goodness knows the reasons why, - most of them are as bland as Ryvita, yet we still do. As I unbutton my jeans, and stroke my bloated belly, I scroll through Instgram and look at their bikini shots exhibiting their thigh gaps, their immaculate armpits, their stretch-mark-free thighs, their defined abs, and we ultimately set this as our expectation.
You may disagree with me and feel that you consciously know that these images are edited, are unattainable, and unrealistic. But I bet you do occasionally compare your body to theirs, wishing your collar bones stuck out like hers does, even though she eats all this free fucking Michelin starred fucking food.
It's all bull shit. Their lives, these images, and the products they are promoting.
As I write this, I am crying into my coffee. Today has been a bad day - seeing images of me on holiday has gotten me feeling rather poop. Getting a mediocre grade back from an essay that I worked hard on has made me feel like a failure. And to top it all off, I am packing to move flats to start a new bloomin chapter of my Pulitzer prize winning life story, in London town... which involves throwing out the clothes that no longer fit me...
This is where Jameela Jamil comes in, and praise be to the Lord for this woman.
Many of you may have seen the #IFuckingWeigh movement on Instagram, where girls (and guys!) take a mirror selfie and list all the things that they weigh... minus the meaningless number of kilograms that their body weighs on scales.
I have forced myself (or more so found myself...) reading through all the recent articles about the work that this woman is doing. From campaigning to ban airbrushing, to her Instagram movement, I felt rather inspired. (Very rare, I usually just feel jealousy towards successful women, the bitter sod that I am).
Albeit a different degree for me and other eating disorder sufferers/fighters, as body dysmorphia stems from our illness, society in general bases so much self worth based on two things: our failures, and what we see in the mirror.
Each day, or even each hour, my mood is based on what I see in the mirror. The occasional time I feel like I look 'thin' or 'toned,' I feel better about myself, yet the majority of the time, I am too well aware of my bigger body I now live in and from this my self worth is diminished and I end up being a miserable, crusty arse hole from then on. THIS IS SO WRONG! From being a perfectionist in everything (my grades, my appearance, my relationship, my fucking tweets) I ultimately disregard all the other rather fabulous things that make me, me!
I can't wash away the distorted reflection I see in the mirror, but I can walk away from that and think 'fuck off muffin top, I actually have some pretty swell things in my life.' At a time where I so despise my body, to have the I Weigh movement storming into the public gaze, is a blessing in an obvious disguise.
If I die, do I really want to be described as 'Molly Wyatt, an anorexia sufferer, tragically died of being eaten by a ______'
OR do I want to be described as 'Molly Wyatt, who lived for comedy and globe trotting, one of five children, who was fucking hilarious despite having a potty mouth and completed university despite going into hospital twice, oh and also bakes a cracking batch of brownies, AND occasionally wrote a half-decent blog post, has tragically died after being eaten by a ________'
I think you know the answer.
Weigh up what you value your self worth at.
The more we spread the message of our accomplishments, our strengths, the more that we will encourage one another to measure ourselves this way. Of course it's not as straight forward as that, and the media industry needs to take a step up their fucking ladder to see the impact that airbrushing Megan's scars off her arms, or airbrushing Frankie's cellulite off, is having. Seeing stretch marks, scars, or God forbid it, AN UN-FLAT BELLY, as flaws is so damaging to ourselves and each other.
More importantly though, all that shit needs to be taken with a pinch of salt... (and tequila and lime). This cannot just be about body positivity, because we are more than mere objects (sooooooo 1954).
This is about LIFE positivity, and it sounds as cringey as Eyal from Love Island, but it really is true. Measuring yourself in more than your appearance, seeing you for all the little successes and characteristics that make you the bloody marvellous human being that you are.
I am trying so hard not to sound like an attempt of being inspirational or whatnot, but HEY. Maybe, I am just trying to drill this into my tumble dryer of a brain, in attempt of getting myself out of this rut and realising that actually...
Make sure you follow the I Weigh movement, set up my Jameela Jamil, on instagram. It'll add a bit of positivity to your Instagram feed. Promise.
Follow it at: @i_weigh
