I doubt this will get much of a read but incase it does I should fight my corner - I'm not promoting any sort of eating disorder, starvation or saying that women should be thin. But I am happier when I am. After a memorable 2 years battling bulima I have now crept back up to a jellified sized 14. I know that in two months I could easily vomit my way back into a size 8 but this is not the way I want to live anymore. Yellowing teeth, bad breath, no energy and an emotional wreck is no way to be after a successful weightloss regime.
If I'm honest this little stint has been kickstarted by my other half pestering me since December to shift some weight. I'm hoping that if I do kick some pounds he'll be happier with me and I'll be happier within myself. Being a compulsive eater and terrified of being the bulimic wreck I once was, I have let myself gain weight and become miserable in myself. I know that I have a great figure and I know how to work curves to my advantage - people are always telling me how good I look but I just don't feel it. Looking in the mirror every morning is a depressing start to the day.
Size 14 is not fat - that's not what I'm telling people. I know I'm not obese! I'm not the new Kenneth Tong but I can't handle feeling this unattractive anymore.
I'm going to try and keep this anonymous because baring my soul is far more fun with strangers - plus my friends would be hideously worried and I'd much rather let out all my misery and flab here where no one will read it than on my professional blog, facebook or even by hand into my diary. After a while I can delete this and no one will know.
Also - this will come accross as alot of teenage angst - reading up online there are some right attention seekers but hopefully this isn't me.
