Success comes in many sizes.

Dear all,

I have finished university. Well, not finished as such but dissertation is in, final pieces of work are done and I have two weeks of excavation work with my friends. So I'm considering it done. And I won't lie, that has been very weird. The process leading to this moment has also been EXTREMELY stressful and, as such, here is a late offering.

First, let's talk numbers. I am back averaging two pounds off per week (yay!) though I highly doubt that will happen this week because I have let my hair down and had a lot of fun in celebration of all of the hard work coming to an end. However, I'm not going to dwell on that because I have another success to discuss.

This is an open apology to Next about the quality/quantity of their plus size stuff. I was pleasantly surprised.

Yes friends. That is a next top in a size 18. Whilst this is hardly a golden ticket that enables me to buy stuff anywhere- I still can't exactly walk in pick anything off a shelf and buy it- this was a moment of success for me that literally had me crying in the changing room. Now, I won't lie, it's quite possible that the overall feeling of nostalgia and sentimentality over the last few weeks of my university career got to me (borderline breakdown on the M5 may or may not have happened) but regardless, size 18 is an enormous deal to me. 

I don't exactly remember the last time I could walk into a normal shop (read: not plus sized specific) and buy an item of clothing that was not held in their plus sized section. But one moment in particular comes to my memory but we have to go back a LONG time. As in, 14 years. 

I was with my friend Annabelle in Tunbridge Wells (I think) and I needed something to wear to our end of school party (this was in year six...which should just about sum up how long my weight has been an issue) and had already started to hate shopping. Nothing was in my size, I needed to go to a 'special' shop and hope that they had something that would fit my petite (read: 4 foot 9 size 14) frame. This was a nightmare, because I'm sure you can see that a 10 year old should not be wearing size 14. At this point I was not overly concerned with my weight for any health reasons. I just wanted to look nice. I had crushes on boys who would not (still don't...grumble grumble) fancy the fat girl and I wanted to prove them wrong. Anyhoo, back to Tunbridge Wells. I tried on a pair of jeans, I think in New Look- can't remember exact details, except that they were acid wash jeans and I thought I was such a boss. They were size 12 and when they did up (and I could sit down!) I cried in the changing room (apparently this is a theme for my life). I realised then that being 'normal' (at least where size was concerned) was important to me because I could already see how marginalised I was becoming. 

Anyway, I rocked those jeans at the end of year party. But Jack Brewer* still paid no attention to me. . . I won a CD for my dancing though, so swings and roundabouts. 

I'm not telling you this because I had some kind of dramatic flashback the other day in the changing room. It's just something I realised/remembered as I was typing. Hope you enjoyed that little story!

So yes, back to success. That was a success for me. But unlike my 10 year old self I'm not going to take that feeling and go and buy myself some milkybar choos (Oh My GOD did I love those) and complain about boys after spending hours imagining what my name would sound like if we got married. . .Instead, this is a mark to myself to keep going. Another size down and I CAN buy clothes from just about anyone. I'll probably cry in the changing room again. I'm sure you can't wait for that!

I'm still doing my daily selfies so remember to #followtheselfie if you're on twitter. And finally, to the people I've been running into the last few days from my time at university. It means SO much that you've been following my progress. I hope I can continue to make you proud. 

*Names have been changed to protect anonymity...Not that he'd read it.

What a difference a week makes...168 little hours

As I mentioned last week, the past few weeks have been the hardest in the plan so far. I mean, seriously. Not only was I lacking in motivation, I wasn't even trying to pretend that I wasn't eating sh*t. I suppose that's a good thing though? I was very obvious about it so perhaps I don't fall into the realm of a secret eater...Small victories.

Anyhoo, I spent the last week getting myself whole heartedly back into the plan. This involved more than one trip to the supermarket where I had to stop myself from buying any muffins. Or cake. Or pretzels. Basically, baked goods. I told myself that I needed to get back to only eating the filling and healthy stuff (Weight Watchers new simple start ) before I could trust myself to only have a set amount of any baked goods. The only exception was two Pepperidge Farm chocolate pecan chunk cookies and I still don't fully comprehend how I stopped myself from eating the entire packet- other than they belonged to my mum and she would have been less than happy had her treat foods disappeared without her even having had one. 

And it worked. This week I lost 4 lbs. I'm still not quite back to where I was before I slipped (have another 5 to go) but it proved to myself that I can still do it, my body has NOT just stopped losing weight, I'd just stopped caring and that couldn't be allowed to go on even one day more. Hope you enjoyed that musical interlude! So as I go into my second week back on track, I feel confident that I'm doing the right things and am back in the swing of things. I'd love to blame stress (and no one would blame a final year university student with deadlines looming etc.) but I know that this just happens. It's so easy, when you aren't even half way yet, to be frustrated. The end is not yet in sight for this so it's not always so easy to focus on the small goals that happen down the road. 

In other news, I was back in the gym today with Jemma- have I said I love her, because I do...*Public apology, sorry I was so pants at the deadlifts today. Also, sorry that I wiggled my hips to make the pull-ups easier. I will not do that again* and there was pain. MY BUM is aching. This is what I need to remember, it's not just that I'm going to have a bit of muscle ache tomorrow, the disaster that is my coccyx does not respond well to being lazy only to have to exert itself and then I pay for it. 

And finally, I've completed my first week of daily selfies. I've nearly forgotten to do it on 5 of the 7 days but they've been done. Only 358 left to go...

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