For anyone who doesn't know me this may seem a trivial thing to celebrate, but for me it was a real turning point in my journey to recovery. I cried like a girl who just received the best news ever and it was beautiful. I was a size 8-10 before I was ill. I've pretty much been that size my whole life and never really used to lose or put on weight. I always used to stay around the same bench mark weight of 10 stone. That may sound like a lot to some but I'm tall so I can carry it well. I was never skin and bones just slim. I'd never gone to the gym before being diagnosed and instead just stayed healthy and active by partaking in sports such as netball and cheerleading, chucking in the occasional run for good measure. I was 10 and a half at my heaviest, in first year of University (before I had my condition) and 9 and a half at my lightest when I was toning up for Zante back in 2012. Then second year came and weight that I could't explain slowly started creeping on. By my 21st birthday, although still a slim size 10 I was starting to notice I had a belly that wasn't there before and wasn't feeling as comfortable wearing my usual outfits out anymore.
December 2014 at one of my consultant appointments I had my last weigh in before I started my journey to snatch back my life and to loosen the grip back from my condition that I felt was holding my life its hostage. I weighed in at 13 stone 10 on the 6th December 2014.
Since I started my journey over 8 months ago now I've lost just over 2 stone. Amazing right? Well, wrong. I can't tell if I've been numbed of my success by the fact I've still got such a long way to go in order to be fully happy with what I've achieved or whether it's because I've just been desensitised of all that two stone actually stands for. I should listen to my friends, my family, work colleagues, randomers that know me from the gym and my favourite gym instructor etc because they all know just how far I've come in that little space of time and how greatly my "common" condition affected me.
Little by little after buying a whole new wardrobe to accommodate my new size I have finally started being too small for my new clothes. I've now had to buy a whole new wardrobe twice over because the size 14 work trousers I bought in the christmas sales from River Island no longer fit me and will end up around my ankles if attempted to be worn. With my dream and sole goal to get back the old me it's only fair that fitting back in to my old clothing sizes is a demonstration of just how successful I've been in my pilgrimage to find the old me.
You'll notice I reference the old me and the new me a lot. Though the new me has been 'me' for the last 2 years, I didn't like her. I don't like her. She's hateful and loath full to herself and the one that completely lacks in confidence. A far cry from old and normal me. I was unhappy, even depressed and had a stinking attitude towards life because of how unhappy it was making me. My outlook on life changed and I couldn't see the positives anymore. I couldn't see that this day would ever come. I was so pessimistic that I was ever going to get better. And you know most people look back and think what was I thinking? I was being such a wet flannel? Yeah well I haven't got that, I can still remember the hateful thoughts I had about myself and still, to some extent, still have. I can remember just how difficult I found everything and how much daily tasks like University and cheer practice were such a chore for me. I also remember coming home and crying because my housemate had eaten my chocolate. I mean seriously, get a grip Kate. That's when I knew how drastically I'd changed from being the happy go lucky, outgoing and adventurous Kate to the now overweight, moody, irrational and tired imposter. Except it wasn't an imposter really. It was me, the new me and the product of my condition. That I had to get my head round and I knew I needed help. I accepted that and I wanted it. I forced my consultant to give me a dietician appointment and as much as she was lovely, she was useless. She told me nothing new or even knew any foods that could help with my condition. I was aware from my own thorough research that certain foods have a bad affect on people with thyroid problems. All my weight loss was my own doing, my own motivation, determination and hard work. No one helped me, I had helped myself. It's so invigorating and empowering in myself. A lot of the time you can only get better if you help yourself and want to help yourself. No matter how many people you have wanting to help you.
You'll notice I reference the old me and the new me a lot. Though the new me has been 'me' for the last 2 years, I didn't like her. I don't like her. She's hateful and loath full to herself and the one that completely lacks in confidence. A far cry from old and normal me. I was unhappy, even depressed and had a stinking attitude towards life because of how unhappy it was making me. My outlook on life changed and I couldn't see the positives anymore. I couldn't see that this day would ever come. I was so pessimistic that I was ever going to get better. And you know most people look back and think what was I thinking? I was being such a wet flannel? Yeah well I haven't got that, I can still remember the hateful thoughts I had about myself and still, to some extent, still have. I can remember just how difficult I found everything and how much daily tasks like University and cheer practice were such a chore for me. I also remember coming home and crying because my housemate had eaten my chocolate. I mean seriously, get a grip Kate. That's when I knew how drastically I'd changed from being the happy go lucky, outgoing and adventurous Kate to the now overweight, moody, irrational and tired imposter. Except it wasn't an imposter really. It was me, the new me and the product of my condition. That I had to get my head round and I knew I needed help. I accepted that and I wanted it. I forced my consultant to give me a dietician appointment and as much as she was lovely, she was useless. She told me nothing new or even knew any foods that could help with my condition. I was aware from my own thorough research that certain foods have a bad affect on people with thyroid problems. All my weight loss was my own doing, my own motivation, determination and hard work. No one helped me, I had helped myself. It's so invigorating and empowering in myself. A lot of the time you can only get better if you help yourself and want to help yourself. No matter how many people you have wanting to help you.
I definitely wanted to help myself for me, not for anyone else and although I have loved ones who want me to be back to my old self for me too as well as who have been my rock in support ♡♡ it's just not enough you have to want to do it for yourself.
Nothing beats finding your own triumph to mark just how well you've done...clearly people telling me how well I'd done wasn't enough. I still have all this self doubt clouding over those thoughts.
Thankfully, my sign came in the form of a gorgeous floral sixties mini skirt from Topshop. I loved the turquoise linen piece even when it was full price but being a mini skirt, usual thoughts ran through my head "you're too fat to wear that", "you'd look embarrassing in that even in a size 14". Mum and I were browsing the sales when I walked past in on the sale rack, only one left. I pointed out how much I loved it with such pain in my voice. Mum remarked how beautiful it was and asked the size. It was a size 10. It would never fit me I thought. Shame, but ah well. After some convincing by mum however I tried it on over my jeans. Drum roll please...IT FIT. IT BLOODY WELL FIT (I'm hyperventilating at this stage in the shop) I'M SORRY, CAPITALS ARE TOTALLY NECESSARY. A Topshop size 10 finally fit me again!!! In my mind it was a scene out of an american chick flick. I'm thinking along the lines of my favourite 90s classic, Clueless. It was as if an amazing gospel choir came out from behind the clothing rails and started singing "oh happy days".
Nothing beats finding your own triumph to mark just how well you've done...clearly people telling me how well I'd done wasn't enough. I still have all this self doubt clouding over those thoughts.
Thankfully, my sign came in the form of a gorgeous floral sixties mini skirt from Topshop. I loved the turquoise linen piece even when it was full price but being a mini skirt, usual thoughts ran through my head "you're too fat to wear that", "you'd look embarrassing in that even in a size 14". Mum and I were browsing the sales when I walked past in on the sale rack, only one left. I pointed out how much I loved it with such pain in my voice. Mum remarked how beautiful it was and asked the size. It was a size 10. It would never fit me I thought. Shame, but ah well. After some convincing by mum however I tried it on over my jeans. Drum roll please...IT FIT. IT BLOODY WELL FIT (I'm hyperventilating at this stage in the shop) I'M SORRY, CAPITALS ARE TOTALLY NECESSARY. A Topshop size 10 finally fit me again!!! In my mind it was a scene out of an american chick flick. I'm thinking along the lines of my favourite 90s classic, Clueless. It was as if an amazing gospel choir came out from behind the clothing rails and started singing "oh happy days".
Now I've found my restored confidence in kicking this weights butt and finally seeing results it's only spurring me on further. I can't wait for you all to make the acquaintance of the new and improved, slimmer but stronger me.
