Archive for November, 2011

I haven’t got anything to blog about today as I haven’t been very well and therefore haven’t done anything, but I thought I’d share with you a picture that I find really sexy and inspiring at the same time. I look to plus size models to help me gain some body image acceptance; I’ve already covered Crystal Renn, and here’s another plus size model, Ashley Graham. Her body is seriously killer, and she’s also been in a so-called controversial lingerie advert for Lane Bryant that I genuinely couldn’t see anything wrong with, although she has got big knockers. But don’t we all want big knockers?! Whatever, here she is looking stunning. I hope it inspires you as much as it does me, and keeps drumming the idea into our heads that skinny isn’t everything!

I Am Totally Jealous Of Her Bum


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Today I made the bold decision to join Twitter. I have a twitter account for myself in which I basically spy on celebs because although I say I’m not that sad, I am. And I like to be in the loop, ok?

So WordPress keeps telling me to publicise to get more blog views, and since I do want people to read my blog I started thinking of how to publicise my blog whilst remaining anonymous. And then I thought about how the blogs I’ve read about weight gain/loss and Eating Disorders have pictures of the authors. I can’t tell you how brave I think these people are, and since my initial assessment at the Eating Disorder place, it’s hit me that once again I’m going to have to do a lot of things that I don’t want to do in order to ‘recover’.

So, I am ‘manning-up’ and putting a picture of myself on my blog, and on my twitter. I’ve already said Emma is my middle name, and I’m going to stick with Emma, because I feel like my Eating Disorder represents a part of me that isn’t part of me… that doesn’t make sense. Let me try and explain. Emma represents all of my severe imperfections – my Eating Disorder, the weight loss, the weight gain, the body hate and without this part of me, I wouldn’t be who I am today. However, this doesn’t mean I actually like this part of me, so I like to try to keep it separate. I don’t tell my friends about my problems, not really, and none of them have read this blog.


But because I keep this Emma part of me a secret, I know that when I go to therapy in January, they’re going to want me to try and accept it. And so, as much as I don’t want to, I am going to try. My first name is Hayley, and the red headed girl in the picture is me, but only my head and shoulders. I mean, it’s all me, but I don’t feel like showing the rest of my body yet. The title of my blog isn’t just a title, my bum really does look big in anything, and so I hope that when I find an outfit I feel comfortable in, I will add a full body shot.



P.S. Please follow me on twitter, it does nothing for my self esteem to see the ‘0 followers’ which might as well be ‘0 people want to read what you have to say’ …Thanks!

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I spend a lot of nights in. I hate to admit that I am ashamed enough of my body to keep me in on weekends when I should be out getting smashed with my friend and attempting to dance. It’s not a pretty sight, but its damn fun. At the moment, I don’t want to set my sights too high, I’d like to just get dressed up, feel ok, and go for a couple of hours of boogieing with my friends. Until then however, I shall keep watching X Factor with my parents… Whoo!

(From Left) Jesy, Jade, Leigh-Anne And Perrie

My favourite act, Craig, got voted off last week, and I would complain about this but to be honest I never vote for X Factor so I have no right. So my second favourite is the girl band, Little Mix. Formally known as Rhythmix, the girl group who has gotten the furthest in UK X Factor than any other girl band. I like their voices, I like them, and I think they could genuinely have a good career after X Factor.

One of the group members is Jesy Nelson, she’s a size 12/14 who’s already been ripped apart in the media for not resembling her skinny – but beautiful – band mates. It’s sad that she is ridiculed for her weight, because she’s actually smaller than the national average (size 16) and she’s gorgeous. Newspapers are more concerned with her hip measurements than her voice, which is bloody amazing by the way, but that’s not the reason she’s cropped up as a blog topic.

Little Mix (Jesy, 2nd In From The Left)

On tonight’s X Factor, Little Mix’s first song was a mash-up of Baby by Justin Beiber (kill me now) and a Diana Ross song Chain Reaction. The outfits they wore were fun, girly and 50’s inspired with tutus, high necklines and waist belts. I love the pin up, 1950’s style and so I was all for it, but something was bothering me. I couldn’t put my finger on why Jesy looked so odd until they all stood in a line at the end of their song. The other girls’ outfits were cute, but Jesy’s was trying to cover her up. The skirt wasn’t as puffy because it was a couple of inches longer, the colouring was dull, her waist belt was bigger which accentuated the fact that she doesn’t have a small waist. Her outfit did nothing for her, and she stuck out like a sore thumb.

Jesy, The Only One Not Showing Some Skin

I estimate she has a more straight up and down figure, and so her legs are the slimmest part. Her skirt didn’t need to be longer than the others, just as Crystal Renn’s outfit didn’t need to be different when she did the One Size Fits All photo shoot for V Magazine. (

Jacquelyn Jablonski And Crystal Renn

She’s got tanned skin and can get away with more adventurous colours, and if her socks had been rolled down just a little her legs would have looked longer and therefore slimmer. Come on stylists, if I know this surely you do? It might be that Jesy is self-conscious and doesn’t think she can wear the same outfits as her band mates, but as long as she continues to hide her figure, or be made to hide her figure, then the acceptance of different body types/weights will continue to be hidden rather than celebrated.



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Yesterday I had an assessment with a counsellor. The place is over an hour away from me, I’ll have to get an infrequent bus to get there, it might hinder me being able to get a full time job as I’ll have to go there once a week on a weekday, but as soon as the counsellor described how they work, I knew it was perfect.

The other Eating Disorder charity I had counselling from sometimes treated me like I wasn’t an urgent case; at that point I wasn’t obese, and what I now know to be binges couldn’t be classed as binges because I didn’t consume as many calories as the criteria said I should. Now I do, and the place I’m going to start counselling with after Christmas doesn’t care.

They focus more on the person, and what events led to causing the Eating Disorder. They describe it as if you have a cut on your arm, and you put a plaster over it. The Eating Disorder is the plaster, covering up the wound, and they work on pulling the plaster back to see what the wound is; essentially, what the problem is, rather than trying to treat just the Eating Disorder, which is merely a way to cope with the problem.

Best. Plasters. Ever.

I use food as an alcoholic uses drink. It makes me feel better about something that I apparently hate about myself, but it’s destroying my life.

I want to say that I found a new lease of life after visiting the counsellor, but my depression doesn’t come and go, and I can’t help but be realistic (and also pessimistic) that this won’t work. At the moment I feel that my eating disorder is incurable and I am hurtling towards the fate of being sad, alone and sharing a house with 37 cats. However, I want to try to prevent this as much as possible, so I’m going to put my all in and deal with some issues that I didn’t realise I had.

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We have taken a sharp left and entered Moaning Avenue. I’m afraid it’s a cul-de-sac, and it’s going to take some time to three point turn out of here.

I couldn’t sleep last night because I am fat. I am at a point now where I cannot fathom why I would ever want to try to make myself comfortable with my body. It’s horrible and fat and why would I ever want to join forces and be happy with it?

The problem is that I got a job, and this weekend I’ve been working. Not a lot of hours, but as a Christmas temp in a shop it’s more hours than I’ve been working in a long time, and I’m standing on my feet all day, talking to people, and yet I’ve been feeling OK. Yesterday I was knackered, my legs ached and I wanted to go to sleep all day… but I felt better than I have done in months. I went home feeling that I’d achieved something, and that maybe my financial circumstances could change.

But as soon as I crawled into bed, something I’d been wanting to do from the moment I woke up, I was wide awake. I couldn’t stop thinking about how fat I’d gotten, and how could I have felt so pleased with myself when, to quote Bridget Jones, my arse is the size ofBrazil. I can’t get comfortable anymore, because every position I lie in I feel fat. It’s quite annoying.

I am sabotaging myself. I know it, and yet I can’t seem to convince myself that accepting my body will lead to happiness. The fear that I will eventually come to accept myself but then stay fat haunts me. Seriously, if there was a ghost of fat, it would be whispering cake ingredients into my ear and throwing the scales across the room to scare me. This ghost would totally be called Moaning Myrtle.



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I have lost my zest for everything. I have reached a depression like I’ve never felt before, and as much as I want to climb out of
this hole that I’ve dug for myself, I have no idea how.

I have been emailing counselling places, as now I have realised that I’m not being attention-seeking, but I am actually in desperate need of some help. I don’t want to go out, I don’t want a job, I don’t want to talk to my friends, I don’t want to go on a date with that guy; all I want to do is watch television and eat chocolate. This isn’t me.

Well, I mean, it sort of is. I’ve been mildly depressed for many years now, but I’ve always had a distraction, what with continually being in education. But now I’m not, I haven’t got a job, therefore I haven’t got money, and I just can’t be bothered to strive anymore.

I was moaning to my mum last night – I do that a lot now, It’s official, I am a moanypants – and I realised that I’m becoming lazy, boring, weak-willed and self-pitying. In other words, I have become the stereotype for fat girls across the globe. I find myself yearning for someone to deal with my problems for me. I’m waiting for someone to fix me, something I grew out of in my early teens. I am furiously independent, and I lean on my family for moaning because I know that they will sympathise, but also give me the kick up the ass I need. I am strong, and I have fought for a long time to rid myself of my eating and body issues, and I know that I will carry on fighting, because the alternative is living as a spinster in a cottage with 37 cats. I’ve reached a low point, but I haven’t reached the 37 cats mark… yet. And I can’t afford a cottage so I suppose I’m not as close to that fate as I feel.

I have fallen into the trap of wanting other people to sort my life out for me, because despite knowing that I am strong, I don’t feel it. I don’t want to have to refuse chocolate and work my ass off with exercise. I want to be 7 stone slimmer and lay about all day eating chocolate and not watch my hips expand. Is that so much to ask?

Apparently so. I think what’s been getting to me the most is that I feel totally alone. The nearest self-help group run by an eating disorder place which would be great to get counselling from, is a long, long way away. It’s too far, and it’s a difficult place to get to if you don’t have a car. I don’t have a car. So I’ve still never met anyone with the same problems as me. I can’t get over this. I’ve known of my problem for 2 years now, and I still haven’t met anyone who isn’t anorexic or bulimic. Binge eating is the most common eating disorder, so where are all my fellow overeaters?!

I didn’t want to write in this blog for a while because I didn’t want this blog to be a way for me to moan with an audience. I keep a diary, that’s where I can moan my bum off, because only I can look back on it and cringe at my self-pity. But I realised if I didn’t moan here, then I wouldn’t get round to writing a post for a long time. I want this blog to be about trying to discover new ways of self acceptance, and explain my eating disorder and the crappy times that occur when a yo yo dieter sees a picture of themselves from a period of thinness. I see those pictures and think they might as well be someone else, because it doesn’t feel like I could ever have been that happy. It’s so sad, and I don’t want to be like that anymore, but unfortunately, it’s the truth, and It’s part of the eating disorder.

So now that I’ve had my moan, and I’m looking for help, I’m going to try and claw back some control over my life. I think it’s
about time.



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