What Im really thinking: the successful dieter


Im not proud. How can I be proud to have been more than 11 stone overweight?

You tell me I appear amazing, you tell me I should be proud. You ask what my secret is, and tell I put you to reproach. You tell I must feel better, and ask how much have I lost.

What I cant say is I dont feel better; I never felt bad in the first place. I ache, Im sore, Im pushing my body to change the weight. Im tired from working out most days on a calorie-controlled diet.

Illustration: Lo Cole for the Guardian

No, I dont look amazing. My clothes cover flabby, excess scalp, stretching markers and deflated breasts. The right clothes hide this, but trying to find them takes a lot of searching. The torso in the changing-room reflect is nowhere near amazing.

Im not proud. How can I be proud to have been more than 11 stone overweight? Ill be proud when I keep to a healthy weight.

And , no, I have no secret. Im simply doing what I should have always done: eating sensibly and exerting. No, I dont put you to reproach. Im ashamed of myself every time someone comments on my weight loss. I really was that big.

No, I dont want to tell you how much Ive lost. Through gritted teeth, Ill tell you its 10 and a half stone, and Im the one reproached, again.

I dont want your compliments. I dont want my weight loss to be the focus of every dialogue. I dont want my bigger friends to distance themselves since they are reckon Im judging them. Please simply be my friend the one who calls for silly reasons, who comes out for a sip, runs for lunch and never statements on my body. Please be my friend, who doesnt mention every time we gratify, Oh, Im starting my diet next week. We can do it together. Please simply be my friend, regardless of how I look.

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