It definitely wasn’t fun but I doubt I would have taken the initiative to get my shape in order if it wasn’t for them. Six years and minus thirteen kg later, I’m finally able to maintain a steady workout routine. I can say this, the journey wasn’t easy but it was definitely worth it. 😀
For those of us that have struggled with weight, I’m sure there are a lot of stories to tell. Skinny people that say, ‘No matter what or how much I eat I don’t add weight’, or ‘I really want to add’, are annoying and should just shush because they don’t get the fat people struggle. *sniff*
My type of body however, just stores every kind of thing I eat, from Oxford cabin biscuit to coldstone ice-cream. It’s a constant struggle day in day out. The sad thing about adding weight is the initial stage. I call it: denial. Where everyone sees it but you. I remember my denial stage, all it took to break out of my denial stage was a certain Sunday morning where my clothes couldn’t fit me anymore. Smh. I cried that morning and ran to tell my mum. I ended up wearing my biggest dress to church that day. After that incident it was clear to me how much I had put on. That was also the period my pot bellied family friend decided on his own that it would be good to tell a young, nice girl like me that she’s growing round and for my brother to pull on my loose flesh like it was some fun kind of rubber band. That shit is really painful!