I will get it on, Tokyo, it’s getting there. I know it will come because I used to have quite nice pins, for a shortarse anyway.
Do you know what, all these diets I’ve been on, especially the ones since I’ve been big (and by big, I mean no offence to anyone, just by my ‘teenage’ standard, me being ‘big’ – for me – is 11 stone upwards, and I’ve been up to 18 stone 10 at my absolute highest). I’ve always ‘held back’ a little. If I can get down to 12 stone, I’ll be happy. If I can get into a size 16, I’ll be happy. And the bigger I get, the less ambitious the goals seem to be. Now it’s – if I get down to 14 stone, I’ll be happy. If I can get into a size 14, I’ll be happy. I found a picture of myself at 16. I was tanned, beautiful, still had a huge bust and a curvy bum but my waist, oh my God I’m sure it was smaller than my thigh is now. I was probably about 9 stone. And I’ve been looking at that picture and wondering if all my ‘aim low’ goals have been a sort of self-preservation, because in my heart of hearts I knew that I’d never get down to that size again? I knew I’d never stick to SW or WW or cabbage soup or whatever it was I was on that month long enough to ever get there? And now… I don’t know, there’s a shift inside my mind, as well as my body. I’ve pinned the picture to my kitchen cupboard door, where I can see it daily. I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself but… I wonder if this is it, this time? I hope that makes sense to someone.
Epspecially, I need you and your psychology please. Even if it is only cat psychology. It worked with the scented stuff…