Friends...

For me, the best part about having a few close friends is that it gives me the chance to know them much better than i would if i had a huge amount of friends and little knowledge or understanding of them. My best friends are actually spread across the globe at the moment - UK, Canada, Nigeria - but we always try to keep in touch via e-mails, text messages and the occasional phone call. I've done some things for them that i usually wouldn't do on a normal day or for someone and they've done the same for me as well. I remember one of my friends was having a birthday party in an expensive club in Scotland and invited me. On a normal day i would have easily said no because i hate clubs. I hate how it smells, i hate the feeling of being stuffed up like sardines in a can (although i do love dancing, especially to latin tunes) and i hate having to yell to have a conversation. But i got on a 7-hour train from where i lived and sucked it up at the club for the night because of her. I'm not even going to lie; i absolutely hated being inside the club. The only VIP thing about it was that it was an exclusive club inside a club so it was pretty tough for random people to just walk in. But i enjoyed being with my friends that night and i enjoyed seeing her happy at the notion that we were all there to celebrate with her; eventhough she knew that myself and one of our other friend would have been much happier in a cinema or dolled up in a nice restaurant.

I was having a bit of a 'fat me' day yesterday. I was very upset because all my labours of working out 5-6 times a week and even finally going on my PCOS medication wasn't making any difference. Plus i had really sore muscles from doing one of Tony Horton's workouts, that guy is genius and evil at the same time but that's a conversation for another post. My friend from UK was texting me yesterday and i was sheepishly replying all his messages and he sent me one asking 'So, what IS wrong with you? Because from your replies i can tell you're in an interesting mood' and to which i replied that i was having a fat day. He is one of those friends you don't want to ask a question that you're scared of the answer; plus he is an expert at laughing at people which can be quite annoying especially if he's laughing at you. He replied me saying 'You're ok dear, don't worry about it cause it's the small stuff and i think it works with you perfectly. Just appreciate yourself. You're not as big as Queen Latifah and she's gorgeous!' You can bet i had a very good night's sleep yesterday after a good mood boost; although i always used to think i was about the same size as Queen Latifah!
Image via Oopshi.com

Acceptance

How easy is it for you to just accept the way you are? Right now, right there as you’re reading this post. How easy is it to look right in the mirror, stare at your reflection and say i’m able to accept ME, just the way i am right now. Is it that easy? NO!! Not for me anyway; i’m constantly living in the residual of my past self or the future me i hope for. I’m rarely ever living in the moment; it’s always past or future, never really right here and right now. I remember last week i sent a text to JieJie saying i need to go into a ‘fat and ugly home’ because everytime i catch a reflection of myself in the bathroom mirror or see one of the girls in my residence rocking some hot outfit that would only look nice on someone without a pot belly and thighs big enough to strangle someone, i fall back into the self-loathing pit. This is how my life tends to unfold and work on a daily basis. Let’s talk breakfast on Friday morning. So this girl in the dining hall who happens to be a US size 0 was complaining about how fat she was and how she didn’t want to wear a dress to the formal except she’d lost some weight before then. All i could think about at that point was rendering her unconscious by chucking my rice krispies bowl at her head. And the minute i got back into my room, i already started picking my body apart and looking at all the parts i hate and how summer is just going to be another annoying hot mess because there’s no way i’d be wearing shorts or mini skirts because i hate my thighs and there’s no wat i’d be wearing dresses because i have an enormous tummy that has the abilities of an amoeba because it changes shape every few minutes irrespective of how many times or how hard i work out every week. Sometimes i even wonder why i deprive myself from eating all the junk food i like because even when i’m not eating it, i’m still not losing any weight and my tummy always speaks to me whenever i put on a pair of jeans. Should i blame this on the Australian summer that is the equivalent of a natural daily sauna or should i blame it on my inability to actually just accept myself the way i am and love myself?
It has been argued that you can never move forward without letting go of the past and actually living in the moment. These are actually two things that are pretty difficult for me to achieve. See, i’m always thinking of myself pre getting sick. How good i looked, how amazing i felt, how happy i was, how i was more self confident, the fact that i was a C cup, had a concave belly and the list goes on. And then i think of the future. How at some point in my life i would FINALLY lose weight after all the sweating, huffing and puffing i tend to do each week all in the name of exercise, how i’d be able to rock all those fashion-forward clothes that i see in magazines and sometimes on Topshop. How i won’t have to worry that a certain shop doesn’t carry my size and how i wouldn’t feel out of place in a store in China Town. Maybe my feet might just shrink back one size so it’ll be easier to actually wear shoes without wondering whether they’re wide enough. How i’d finally be able to go to the beach without feeling like a whale...I could spend the next two days going on about the hows of the future. But i would probably spend about an hour at the most on the present and that would be on a really good day when i'm feeling like Jennifer Lopez, Salma Hayek and Queen Latifah all at the same time.
So how exactly do i get round to living in the moment, accepting myself and just enjoying my life? Because let's face it; life is a bitch. It's dull, short, boring, annoying, frustrating, fantastic, orgasmic, hot, mentally draining and challenging, and definitely not fair. My mum's theory is just to forgive and let go. Of course, she says that to me because she knows that i'm not good at letting go of anything. But maybe if i stopped reading magazines and stopped engaging in emotional shopping? Or maybe if i worked out simply because it's good for my health instead of because i'll lose weight. Or maybe, just maybe if i simply forget about actually busting my ass to lose weight, chuck out all the stuff i have that doesn't flatter me and send them off to charity. Then, just lavish my current form with TLC and ensembles that actually flatter it; stop thinking about the pre-sick me or the future me after i've finished a 40-minute session of Billy Blanks' Tae-Bo kickboxing. Maybe that way, i can actually live in the moment and actually accept myself. Oh, i also have to try and stop hating on people that are much slimmer than i am and happen to have long hair; and stop imagining aliens abducting all the pretty people from the face of the earth. What do you guys think?
Images via GWAS, Dramabeans.com, Thumped.co.uk