Happy Valentine's Day

I read this poem at our wedding. Every word still holds.

Invisible Kisses, by Lemm Sissay

If there was ever one
Whom when you were sleeping
Would wipe your tears
When in dreams you were weeping;
Who would offer you time
When others demand;
Whose love lay more infinite
Than grains of sand.

If there was ever one
Who when you achieve
Was there before the dream
And even then believed;
Who would clear the air
When it's full of loss;
Who would count love
Before the cost.

If there was ever one
Who can offer you this and more;
Who in keyless rooms
Can open doors;
Who in open doors
Can see open fields
And in open fields
See harvests yield.

Then see only my face
In the reflection of these tides
Through the clear water
Beyond the river side.
All I can send is love
In all that this is
A poem and a necklace
Of invisible kisses.

Behind the curtain

Yesterday I went into a changing room and tried on some items of clothing.

Pauses while majority of readers think "???!??" and "Er...well done?"

But this is something of a big deal. Let me explain - I haven't tried on an item of clothing in a changing room for at least a couple of years. I don't know who invented the changing room - all pale, watery lighting, always slightly over heated and under sized - but it was not someone who was interested in boosting the ego of women. And when you don't really like looking at yourself in a mirror anyway, the prospect of seeing yourself in several different, unflattering angles simultaneously is not one that warms the cockles.

In any case, I'm not someone who takes a lot of interest in clothes when I'm bigger. There are some amazing plus size style bloggers out there who carry off dressing for curves with aplomb but me, I'm more about camouflage. Although it's fundamentally impossible to camouflage the fact that you're shaped like a Weeble.

Anyway, yesterday I went into a changing room! And I tried on an utterly frivolous outfit - a frothy skirt and a jumper with sequin detail. I didn't buy it. But I looked at it from every dodgy angle, noted that a semblance of waist was emerging, hummed and hawed and ultimately decided that it wasn't right and put it back. Like a completely normal person.

Talk about your small victories, right? But me, I'll take them wherever I can.

Lipstick on a pig

I want to start this by saying: this is not intended to be a sad post, a "poor me" post, a post to make my loved ones concerned. It is just something preying on my mind at the moment that I want to get down before I forget or get distracted by a new form of sandwich filling or something.

I've come to realise (or maybe, more accurately, acknowledge) that there is a part of my brain that steadfastly believes that I do not deserve good things because I am overweight.

I mean, it is a small part. Logically, I know it is the silliest form of silliness. But don't we all have those little voices deep down? Those voices that say that we're not worthy of x because of y?

I can't imagine why it is. I've never set an awful lot of store by being beautiful - I'd rather be described as clever or funny or, even, nice. I don't aspire to a career where looks are important. But still, always the nagging feeling that being big makes me...less.

D said, in our counselling session this week, that he wanted me to take more pride in myself, that he thought it was important - not because he sets any store by high maintenance females but because he feels that I've lost a bit of myself. I always respond to this by retorting that I scaled back the lipstick and the styling and the sparkle because he has often said he prefers a simpler aesthetic. But that's only part of the story.

And when I thought about it more, that old phrase kept flashing into my mind - what's the point of putting lipstick on a pig. It shocked me a little bit. Because that is some very sad, negative thinking right there that I wasn't even conscious of.


Do you know what? Pigs are great. They are highly intelligent, friendly, loyal, playful animals. And if a pig wants to wear lipstick - MAC or Chanel for preference - then she damn well should and tell that little voice inside to pipe the eff down.

Because, aside from anything else, losing weight is an act of self love in the same way that piling it on is often a way of expressing some form of self pity. And this little piggy will never get to where she wants to be until she gets her head around that.

Banishing the shoulder chip

Why hello 2013, how nice of you to come.

One week in and already I am unconvinced that 2013 is set to be a vintage year. After spending most of the Christmas period in the bosom of my family I found myself almost looking forward to returning home for a period of quiet reflection and gentle pottering. Oh, and playing with my shiny new laptop (it is purple! Which makes me very happy). But it didn’t take long for that sneaky January malaise to creep in, and instead of being a lovely little haven of peace and quiet and twinkly fairy lights, my house became instead a Fortress of Self Pitying Solitude and Zero Personal Hygiene. Yup, even after four months, I am still not good at Being Separated (although apparently I am excellent at capitalising words). My digestive system did its usual end of December / beginning of January rebellion (every year, every year, I end up spending at least one day in bed with grumbling insides) probably exacerbated this time round by the lack of proper nutrients and, indeed, a regular eating schedule. And then, just as I was considering dragging my self into the shower so that the people at work wouldn’t mistake me for Stig of the Dump, I received some bad news about a close family member who has been hospitalised.

Humph.

I hate self pity, I really do, and I seriously over indulged myself this last week or so. My end of December birthday didn’t help; I think I now qualify for the “mid” rather than “early” thirties bracket and that makes me want to sulk mightily – despite the fact that I got asked for ID buying a bottle of wine just a few weeks ago.

So, my first step towards dragging myself up by my bootstraps is going to be some Reasons to be Cheerful.

1) Four pound weight gain over the entire Christmas period – which started a good couple of weeks before Christmas Day itself and extended itself into the first few days of January. Not bad at all.

2) I have decided to become a dryathlete for the duration of January which means eschewing booze and raising money for Cancer Research in the process. And, to remind myself to stick to it, I treated myself to this gorgeous little teapot necklace from Etsy (I’ll be drinking tea instead of wine – you see? It’s symbolic AND cute). Etsy is a reason to be cheerful all by itself – love, love, love it.

3) I have pink butterfly push pins (Christmas present courtesy of D) and a Lol Cats calendar (courtesy of la mere) on my desk at work, both of which make me smile.

4) My deliciously cute little nephew, who was up just after Christmas, learned to say “Auntie” which was just adorable, as was the fact that he greeted all of his presents with the phrase “Oh wow”. And the best thing about nephews is that you get to enjoy all the cute bits and hand them back to their parents when they get noisy or smelly or both.

See, I feel better already! Now for some resolutions and Action Plans to ensure that the remainder of the month is an improvement on these first few days…