Making friends

When I was a girl, I didn't have many friends. I was different, I said weird things or I was too loud or I didn't have the same boundaries. For whatever reason I was on my own a lot. Which was fine. As a teenager I had plenty of boyfriends. Again my behaviour was probably very attractive (as well as the norks; never underestimate the power of norks). But not loads of chums. Even at university, where other people meet their lifelong friends, I couldn't connect with many people. It wasn't til I was in my late 20s that I finally managed to make some proper friends. Not loads but some. 

But that feeling of being excluded is always with me. I am terrified of groups of people. What if they don't like me? What if I say something "stupid"? My condition means it's bloody likely I'm going to say something either weird or inappropriate. If I can I take Saga (my Jack Russell as a diversion. <Look at the cute dog! Ignore the mental woman!> Having her with me means I have someone to talk to if I can't join in.

 

Recently I was invited to a chum's birthday gathering. He and his lovely OH have a lot of friends from a different social circle so I knew I wouldn't know anyone there. Luckily the venue liked dogs so Saga and I set off. 

You know how hard it can be to break into new groups? Well these people weren't like that. I felt included straight away. I had tea. I even played a game and DIDNT lose. It was a truly lovely afternoon and I was so happy to be there. 

That afternoon has made me Brave. I just might try another meet up with people. You know, on the off chance I could get to like this socialising lark...

Not being "good", just being

I am fat. You can put all kinds of nice words around it "voluptuous", "curvy" or "cuddly" but the bottom line is I'm fat. I'm plus sized. I'm in the red zone on the doctors chart. According to my father I am "matronly". 

I have been steadily getting fatter over the last 10 -15 years. Having an underactive thyroid doesn't help but neither is it to blame. I eat too much of the wrong things. And I don't move about enough. That is all. 

I've been happyish about this, quietly changing clothes to have elasticised waists, investigating American websites for more interesting clothes in the multiple xes, all the while making sure I have an eclair within arms reach. And the Bear has been great, telling me he loves me whatever and that I was beautiful.

But three things happened in fairly quick succession. First of all a chum went from cute and cuddly to gorgeous and sexy and I do think that, were I to have such a thing, he would now be out of my league! This was not good for the old ego. 

Next my own beloved Bear started mentioning that I was looking a bit tubbier than usual and he had noticed I obviously wasn't happy - I definitely wasn't feeling like a sex kitten.... More a slovenly sloth! Without really noticing, I had moved from having a "bit of padding" into "carting around an entire mattress". Definitely not good!

The last straw was something I am not particularly proud of so I do not intend to confess it here. Suffice to say I reacted childishly and the upshot was I joined slimming world. 

Here I am 8 weeks later and a stone lighter which is encouraging. And I find slimming world's ethos works for me. I count my Syns. I try to avoid their over sweetened goodies and eat lots of fresh stuff. And I can get into my new trousers!

But some people don't half react very strangely "Ooh are you on a diet?" They say. "I'd better not offer you this Biscuit had I?" Um, I can have what I want.  "Have you been good this week?" Well, the other night I definitely had some impure thoughts about someone I shouldn't do - does that count as not being good?

Eating food isn't naughty or good - and a diet or a change of eating habits isn't supposed to be a punishment. it just is. I guess I'm saying I'm not dieting as such. I'm just trying to change the way I look at food and really notice what I eat. But I'm not being good. Trust me I'm never being "good".

I'm trying to change my habits. If I've had a bad day, I'll reach for the chocolate but a mini bag of buttons rather than a huge bar of fruit n nut. And I'll enjoy every one rather than shoving a whole handful in my gob. If I "deserve a treat" I'll buy myself a new lipstick rather than the fresh cream counter of Selfridges. 

Although I reserve the right to always have salted pretzels covered in toffee and chocolate in the house. Because they are scrummy!