Skinny Girls Club---Tips And Tricks 4
Without Prejudice
When I lost the initial weight one of the best comments I had was from my Son In Law. He's a no nonsense Kiwi, with a huge frame. I showed him my wrinkly arms that were beginning to look like concertina paper fans, layer upon layer upon layer.
" It's just a body, Janette", he said, "Just a body"
I had to agree, my Son In Law saw the world in a different way to me. My daughter said he had no bother coming out of the shower dressed only in a towel and doing the Haka, just for her. I decided then and there to get more comfortable in my own skin. I went home and stripped off to bra and pants and examined every inch of my body.
It was a revelation to be free of coverings, staring at striated stretch marks faded and silvery that bore witness to every baby I had ever had. A big scar across my lower belly told the tale of stomach tightening after four babies in 6 years and the poochy stretched out skin and muscle I had been left with.And the pain OMG, the pain of the operation to have it all tightened up.
I looked steadily at a body that had served me well for years and years. The Swimmers shoulders were still there, the powerful thighs that had kicked me forward in chlorinated pools at dawn training and kicked me all the way to the State finals in Sydney were still there. The scar on my knee from an unseen barbed wire fence when I was eight and flying down a hill at rhe car races in Sydney was still there.
I had heard that wearing tight clothes was a good thing for maintaining weight loss so I crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out a stretch Nancy Gantz slip and wore it religiously, every day. I pulled it over pants and jeans, it looked like a black stretch skirt. I wore it under dresses as I wrote or went out. It was hot, it was tight, but it sucked everything to a size smaller and helped me be concious of thinness at all times.
I have always danced, even as a little girl in Port Augusta so I began to dance again, celebrating my body and felt so self concious at first, even though it was only me in the lounge room. I parodied Madonna and Cindy Lauper and all the glas that just want to have fun. I mimicked Nicole Sherzinger from the PussyCat Dolls and their anthem "Dont Cha". I vamped, pouted and twirled as if I was once again the girl that sang into a hairbrush at nine. Discovered by her older Sister and laughed at and didnt care. I lost years of inhibitions and just danced.
It took a good six months before I bought new clothes. The first item a coloured pair of jeans, bright blue and wore them till they fell off my hips. I still entered dressing rooms with the same trepidation I always had and laughed when I realised that the tiny body in front of me was mine. I always used to walk into a dressing room, take my glasses off and squint through one eye at myself. Now I could strip down to bra and undies and feel great.
It takes a long time to adjust to a new body. I would lie in bed and feel bones that I had never realised up till then were there. My shoulder bones felt strange and new. And I worried constantly for the first twelve months that I would put all the weight back on. That it was somehow a trick and that overnight the fat would come back. It never did, I am happy to say. And while I made the journey others shrank around me.
My daughter went from a whopping 110 kilos to a mere 61 and she hated it. She clung to her fat clothes until she started to realise it was not so bad to be thin. That she had just given herself another thirty, forty years of life. She wanted at first to have her old bigger body back, Her whole life changed when she lost weight and she went through months of depression, mourned it. I didnt mourn mine. I realised I had Aunts in the U,K, who were still hale and hearty in their dotage and thin as whips.
One now 91 amd another 103 and still with all their faculties and upon realising that thought I have another forty fifty years of life ahead. That the layers of fat that I had been hoarding were no longer protective but could kill me. My Family Doctor hugged me when he saw me and said,
"How did you do it?"
"Camp Eden", I replied.
"Whats a Camp Eden" he asked. And I told him.
"A form of brain washing", He stated, "But, a good form of brain washing"
He was delighted at my weight.
To be continued .............
When I lost the initial weight one of the best comments I had was from my Son In Law. He's a no nonsense Kiwi, with a huge frame. I showed him my wrinkly arms that were beginning to look like concertina paper fans, layer upon layer upon layer.
" It's just a body, Janette", he said, "Just a body"
I had to agree, my Son In Law saw the world in a different way to me. My daughter said he had no bother coming out of the shower dressed only in a towel and doing the Haka, just for her. I decided then and there to get more comfortable in my own skin. I went home and stripped off to bra and pants and examined every inch of my body.
It was a revelation to be free of coverings, staring at striated stretch marks faded and silvery that bore witness to every baby I had ever had. A big scar across my lower belly told the tale of stomach tightening after four babies in 6 years and the poochy stretched out skin and muscle I had been left with.And the pain OMG, the pain of the operation to have it all tightened up.
I looked steadily at a body that had served me well for years and years. The Swimmers shoulders were still there, the powerful thighs that had kicked me forward in chlorinated pools at dawn training and kicked me all the way to the State finals in Sydney were still there. The scar on my knee from an unseen barbed wire fence when I was eight and flying down a hill at rhe car races in Sydney was still there.
I had heard that wearing tight clothes was a good thing for maintaining weight loss so I crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out a stretch Nancy Gantz slip and wore it religiously, every day. I pulled it over pants and jeans, it looked like a black stretch skirt. I wore it under dresses as I wrote or went out. It was hot, it was tight, but it sucked everything to a size smaller and helped me be concious of thinness at all times.
I have always danced, even as a little girl in Port Augusta so I began to dance again, celebrating my body and felt so self concious at first, even though it was only me in the lounge room. I parodied Madonna and Cindy Lauper and all the glas that just want to have fun. I mimicked Nicole Sherzinger from the PussyCat Dolls and their anthem "Dont Cha". I vamped, pouted and twirled as if I was once again the girl that sang into a hairbrush at nine. Discovered by her older Sister and laughed at and didnt care. I lost years of inhibitions and just danced.
It took a good six months before I bought new clothes. The first item a coloured pair of jeans, bright blue and wore them till they fell off my hips. I still entered dressing rooms with the same trepidation I always had and laughed when I realised that the tiny body in front of me was mine. I always used to walk into a dressing room, take my glasses off and squint through one eye at myself. Now I could strip down to bra and undies and feel great.
It takes a long time to adjust to a new body. I would lie in bed and feel bones that I had never realised up till then were there. My shoulder bones felt strange and new. And I worried constantly for the first twelve months that I would put all the weight back on. That it was somehow a trick and that overnight the fat would come back. It never did, I am happy to say. And while I made the journey others shrank around me.
My daughter went from a whopping 110 kilos to a mere 61 and she hated it. She clung to her fat clothes until she started to realise it was not so bad to be thin. That she had just given herself another thirty, forty years of life. She wanted at first to have her old bigger body back, Her whole life changed when she lost weight and she went through months of depression, mourned it. I didnt mourn mine. I realised I had Aunts in the U,K, who were still hale and hearty in their dotage and thin as whips.
One now 91 amd another 103 and still with all their faculties and upon realising that thought I have another forty fifty years of life ahead. That the layers of fat that I had been hoarding were no longer protective but could kill me. My Family Doctor hugged me when he saw me and said,
"How did you do it?"
"Camp Eden", I replied.
"Whats a Camp Eden" he asked. And I told him.
"A form of brain washing", He stated, "But, a good form of brain washing"
He was delighted at my weight.
To be continued .............
