What was a lovely afternoon with family – spent in a Harvester pub celebrating my other half’s birthday – turned slightly sour about half an hour ago. I was in a traffic jam and had the window down, when I heard some guys in the car next to me saying “fu**cking hell, look at that”, “I’ve never seen anything like that before”, “her stomach touches the steering wheel, that’s fu**cked up” and other such lovelies!! The term ‘shrinking violet’ has never been used to describe me, so I turned and shouted “If you’ve got a problem pr1ck, then come and talk to me about it face to face!” At this point, the traffic jam got moving – now I’m not sure if this was a good thing or not, because I’d just started thinking up some wonderfully witty retorts (it’s always the way, after the bloody event!) and I was dying to unleash some pent-up aggression on some half-wit, Deliverance style red-necks – in fact, I got a bit Ray Winstone and would’ve loved to have gotten my hands on a pool ball inside a sock!!
My problem is that I find it hard to forget such comments and move on. I remember a few years ago, driving around a roundabout and getting cut up by some guy. I honked my horn, and him and his passengers proceeded to shout a barrage of abuse at me – “fat bitch”, “fat c**t” – and the like. I screamed at him to get some effing glasses and learn to stick within the white lines – but this episode has stuck with me. I think I’m going to get in touch with my spiritual side and light a fire in the garden, write down all of things that bother me, and set fire to it…it’s supposed to help you let go. I won’t tell my Mum that I’m messing with fire though – after setting fire to her kitchen when I was a teenager, it’s still a sore point over fifteen years later!!
Some of the comments I get are quite funny though – and from the mouths of babes…my niece, who’s three, said to me a few months ago “You look like you’re going to have a baby”. My sister almost died and wanted the ground to swallow her, but I thought it was hilarious and often chuckle about it now! I’ve been working hard to explain to my curious niece why I go to my ‘healthy class’ every week, and how you can have little bits of chocolate each week, but mostly fruit, vegetables and meat etc. She also comes to use my treadmill and play in my ‘healthy corner’, and today very proudly showed me her salad bowl from the Harvester and how she was eating lettuce.
As I’ve said before, the day I get called a ‘bitch’ rather than a ‘fat bitch’ will be the day I know I’ve made it to my target weight!
Lots of love
Weight Loss Bitch x