I Am Not A Number

I hate myself. I do. I really really do. I have tripped, stumbled and fallen face first into my old ways of weighing, hating, starving, weighing, hating, bingeing, hating, hating, hating. It was four weeks ago when I first made the massive mistake of stepping on those scales again. After 60+ days of not weighing, of being weightless and loving the freedom of just being me and not a number I had a moment of weakness. And like an addict I couldn’t, I didn’t stop. It started when I was getting ready for a concert and had realized that my outfit looked quite different to the last time I’d worn them. So armed with a big hangover and an even bigger curiosity I jump aboard the train wrecking machine. The numbers went up and up and up. Yep, I have officially gained 6 kilos. 6 extras in 60 days. I know to some this is not a lot but to me this hurts… It hurts a lot!

So I’m now “that” girl. The girl who people talk about and say “wow she’s put on some weight”. They question if I’m pregnant…. again. And I feel uncomfortable with the looks, I feel embarrassed to almost weigh what I did full term pregnant during my heaviest pregnancy. I am constantly hiding my belly, shielding it with any amour I can – like handbags, positioning my baby so he is sitting on my tummy, I hide behind a pram, a table, my seatbelt or when I’m on the lounge my amour is a pillow. I am paranoid to see those eyes wander down to my stomach and those deafening silent thoughts of “is she or isn’t she”. There is so much more to life I know there is but when I focus in on my circle, on the people I know, there is so much focus on being slim, loosing weight, looking a certain way and it’s pressure. It’s fucking huge pressure to be “one of them”.

So then the question becomes – can I love and live with those extra 6kgs? This is the number that I can eat whatever I like and exercise as little as I like. 6kgs lighter means working my arse off and watching every calorie I let pass my lips and then beating myself up with every additional calorie I consume. I hate it. I hate the cycle. I hate the way it makes me feel but all around me are Superwomen and superficiality. On magazine covers, on TV, on social media, in social circles, in the school yard. When you suffer from this body-hating disease you see it everywhere. One side of your brain says it’s not important. You look at your one year old son and it says it’s not important. You see your Nana in high dependency nursing home and it says it’s not important. You read back through the post “60 Minutes Left to Live” and you know without a shadow of a doubt it is NOT important. It is not important. Hating myself is not ok. It is not living. I am not a number. I am not an awful human being…. How do you switch it off…..

One love,
DRK xxx

3 thoughts on “I Am Not A Number

  1. Farmer Farthing says:

    Been there, done that and have several of the t-shirts!

    These days, for me it’s about being healthy and happy and NOT obsessing over the size of clothing I happen to be in at the time (that was my downfall-clothing labels, I thank God I never bought a set of scales, I reckon I’d have been ten times worse!)

    Plus, when you love yourself as you, you feel sexy and confident no matter what. I also learnt that 80% of men prefer a curvier woman (it goes back to primal times-good hips and a bit of weight signifies healthy babies! And lets face it, most men think with their ‘other’ brain 😉 )

    I hope you can learn to let it go and just enjoy being you, whatever you, you happen to be. It’s the most liberating, freeing feeling 🙂 xx


    • superwomanseven says:

      It’s definitely been a process – obviously one that’s still well and truly in motion! I know that freeing feeling you’re talking about because I had glimpses of it during those 60 days where I didn’t weigh myself. So back to that, cleaning up my eating because it makes me feel better and finding happiness regardless of my number.

      Thank you so much for reading, for commenting and showing me that this is an obstacle that can be overcome… xx


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s