Walking the walk

It's been about a year since I discovered Health At Every Size and my life turned upside down.

Despite years of yo-yo dieting, compulsive eating, binges, cravings, and a generally wacky messed up history with food, the first step – normalising my relationship with food – was actually the easiest part for me. Once I 'got' legalising and made the mental switch that I could eat anything I wanted, the cravings, and my out of control appetite, stopped practically overnight.

I had a week or two of finding myself suddenly sitting on my sofa not quite sure what to do with myself. It took me a little while to figure out what was going on, but basically, I just hadn't realised how much of my time and energy went into thinking about food and eating and weight, planning, re-hashing, self-criticism, and living my life in the future at some indeterminate size smaller than where I was now. But it was incredibly freeing. For the first time ever, eating was neither a chore nor a minefield of guilt and recriminations. Now I think about food when I'm hungry, I eat what I fancy, and then I don't think about it again until next time I'm ready to eat.

There was a certain sadness that came with this change in me. I was finally free of my battle with food, but my weight was the highest it had been in years. For the first few months, I continued to battle with my poor body image. And rather than praise myself for the incredible change I'd made, I just couldn't help berating myself for doing it at 16 stone. How could I ever learn to love myself at this size? Couldn't I have lost 5 stone first, and THEN normalised my relationship with food?

But eventually I conceded that history had taught me the answer to that question. In fact, I remember reading a book about the dangers of dieting and the benefits of adopting an intuitive eating approach around 5 years ago. Although the book really resonated with me, I couldn't quite bring myself to take that leap of faith. I'd just lose a bit more weight first.... Five years and around 3 stone later.... I suppose you're ready when you're ready. Maybe you need to reach that lowest point before you can finally take on such a revolutionary message.

Me in my little black dress

Anyhow, over the last year, I have gradually come to accept, and even like, my body. Sure, I have my moments, but mostly I think I look 'not bad', or even 'nice'!!!! I can only wonder at how 'not bad' I looked all those years when I still felt 'too fat', not good enough. I have a photo of me in my 20s in a little black dress and a pair of black thigh boots. I remember breathing in when that picture was taken and angling myself towards the camera in a flattering pose. Just another seven pounds and I'd be happy. And when I look at it now...

This morning I was interviewed for a local paper, and I spent an hour talking to the reporter about Health At Every Size and being kind to yourself. I have been talking the talk for the best part of a year now, but when I got off the phone, I realised that I was finally ready to truly start walking the walk. This evening, I came home and started going through my closet. If it didn't fit perfectly, it went into the recycling bag. Several recycling bags actually. Years of my dieting history were hanging there in my closet, most recently my standard neutral coloured boot leg cords in gradually increasing sizes. Trousers that were too tight, blouses that gaped at the front, and even a handful of items I'd bought that were a bit small at the time, but that I thought would motivate me, and that I was going to diet into. Most still had their labels on.

I felt a twinge of guilt about the waste. But then I reminded myself that during those years, my driving force was not greed, but despair. And at least now they were going to a good cause and would benefit other people in a variety of different ways. When I thought about how this process was an act of acceptance, the guilt was replaced by a sense of pride that I finally cared about myself enough to do what was right for me. To wear clothes that fit and make me feel good. To not have a daily reminder of all that failure and disappointment. To not wait to live my life in some imaginary future when all my 'thin clothes' would fit, when I'd like my body, and when all my problems would magically disappear. To finally just be me.

Hubby was glad to know that while many of my trousers didn't make the cut, most of my skirts still fit fine. There were also a couple of surprise discoveries. One knit dress that I've had for nearly 20 years, and which I used to love, has been hanging in my closet for years. I just couldn't bring myself to get rid of it. Just to show hubby how much I'd changed since then, I put it on. And it fit. It didn't bulge. It looked pretty good. I'm going to start wearing it again.

But my once overflowing overstuffed cupboards now have oodles of empty space. Once upon a time I would have dreaded the thought of going clothes shopping. Trying to find anything that fit. Buying anything that did regardless of whether I really liked it. Peeking out of the changing room while exposing as little of me as possible to ask the assistant to bring me something in the next size up. Which inevitably they didn't have. Trying to find clothes that would camouflage my unacceptable body so as not to offend anybody's sensibilities. Standing in front of the dressing room mirror in a miasma of culturally sanctioned self-loathing.

But you know what? I don't feel that way now. I'm actually looking forward to it. I'm excited about the prospect of buying clothes not to hide myself and my shame from the world, but to express myself and my right to walk in that same world. I will no longer be dressed from head to toe in black. I can't wait to look at different styles and colours and textures. I will accessorise. I will look HOT! This is my time.