My Wake-Up Call to Lose Weight

What I wasn’t remembering was everything else about my life back then. I’d been a student during the day, a waitress at night, and playing basketball at weekends. I was constantly moving. Now I was in my early thirties, with a baby approaching their first birthday, barely any sleep, and a peanut butter and white bread habit. Most of my exercise involved walking to the shops or running errands. And I kept putting on weight. My BMI reached 30. Standing naked in front of the mirror became difficult. I didn’t feel comfortable in my body, and I didn’t know how to begin finding my way back to myself. At that point, though, I hadn’t realised that I wasn’t the only one struggling to see me as attractive. The other person was my other half. I hate my husband’s body. Honestly, it’s not fair. The man can eat whatever he likes, drink whatever he likes, and somehow stay exactly the same weight. Meanwhile, I look at a peanut—or, in my case, a jar of peanut butter—and apparently gain ten kilos before I’ve opened the lid. At first, his comments were gentle. “Darling, maybe have a salad instead of chips?” “Maybe swap the juice for some water?” “Your back isn’t hurting any more. Do you think you could start exercising?” And I always had an answer. “Yes, but I need to eat because I’m breastfeeding.” “Yes, I’ll start tomorrow.” “Yes, but I can’t leave the baby.” With his father. The baby was almost a year old, and apparently leaving him with his own dad was out of the question. The truth was, I’d convinced myself that everything would sort itself out. I kept going on forums and finding exactly what I wanted to hear. Someone had lost the weight with a pill. Someone else swore by a week of special tea. Another said it would all drop off once the baby started nursery. There was always something I could try later. One day, I read that because it takes nine months to grow a baby, you should allow twice as long to lose the weight. Eighteen months. Add that to the whole “eating for two” idea, and I had another reason to stop worrying. Looking back, I can see how eagerly I accepted anything that bought me more time. I wasn’t checking whether these claims made sense. I was looking for reassurance, and there was plenty of it online. Meanwhile, I’d become very committed to watching telly. That picture of the healthy new mum out and about with her newborn? That wasn’t me.