"You've Changed" - No Shit

There is one thing that I get told by almost everyone; “you’ve changed.” Whether it be from a family member, or someone from school, I hear it all the time. Considering I started off as nothing more than an egg that later fertilised, before developing into a fetus, and then an actual, living human-being… I would like to think I have changed quite a bit too. 

No, I know what people really mean when they say “you’ve changed” though. What they mean is, I’m into health and fitness now. I’m a gym girl. I am far from the girl who despised P.E. lessons in school; skiving pretty much every one she could. I am far from the girl who also drastically lost weight, herself, and even looked skeletal at one point. And I am far from the shy, unconfident girl I once was - the one who was scared of what anyone thought of her, and what she had to say. The girl who never told anyone how she was feeling, or what she was really thinking. The one who let people walk all over her; getting away with it. So yes, I am fully aware myself that I have indeed, changed. I have completely transformed myself.

THEN… 

It all started when I decided to go on a diet and lose weight. I was always unhappy with my weight and appearance growing up. I found it hard not to be when I saw all these girls in school, and celebrities in the media that didn’t have a single ‘flaw’, or an ounce of visible fat. It was also hard not to be unhappy about myself when I was called ‘fat’ by guys in my year too, and received snarky comments from a P.E teacher from time to time. Sure, I pretended it didn’t bother me. Especially as I knew, and saw myself the same way. But it did bother me. It bothered me so much that it is essentially the ‘trigger’ that lead me down an extremely dangerous path, I guess. I started feeling pressured into being ‘skinny’. And that pressure turned formidable. It changed me.

It’s funny writing this, because I imagine anyone from school reading will remember this change of mine. Yet, there is a lot more to it than me being overweight, to suddenly being extremely skinny. I mean yes, that did happen, but there is more to that story than I ever let on. People often asked me how I did it, and even congratulated me for it. Yet, if they knew how I really did it, and what I did to myself… they’d know it’s not something I should be praised for. I’ve never spoken out loud about any of this before, so to actually write about it… it’s quite scary. But I feel it’s important to do so. Not only for myself, but for others too. You see, no one knows about what I’m about to say, because that’s just it - you never really know what is going on inside someones head.

What started out like any diet with good intent quickly turned vicious. It consumed me. What I thought was healthy, or should I say, what the media portrays as healthy was ironically, nothing but unhealthy. It was harmful, destructive and ill-informed. When reading magazines like Closer, Now, Reveal, you know - the typical, trashy gossip magazines that feed off making you feel insecure, and repeatedly advertise shit like “lose X pounds in 5 days!”… fat and weight loss was achieved; rapidly. Having always had a big appetite as a teenager (seriously, I could eat an entire 6 pack of crisps, pints of ice cream, takeaways, etc and still be hungry), I never thought I would stick to losing weight. However, once I started… I couldn’t stop. It became addictive. A mission. Unaware that I was cutting out important nutrients and putting my body through hell, I only ate fruit, Special ‘K’ products, salads, and anything ‘low in calories’. I stopped saying ‘yes’ to desserts and takeaways, and taking extra helpings of food. Instead, I chose to stick to a ‘diet’, and strive to look like someone else, rather than live my life. This is why I am so protective of any girl growing up and seeing these misconceptions everywhere they turn.

My clothes sizes dropped, and I was over the moon that I could fit into size X, or that I could ‘finally’ shop in X. The slimmer I became, the more I felt as though I belonged in society. Almost as though my appearance, and my size was becoming acceptable. Compliments were received, “you’re looking good!”, “you’re so slim!”, yet the happiness and confidence I hoped losing the weight would bring me, was not fulfilled. If anything, it decreased.

I lost myself. My personality, energy, passion, love, appetite, mentality, but most importantly my health - disappeared. My head became a place that was filled with negativity and self-hate. My relationship with food became non-existent, while my relationship exercise escalated; becoming punishing. I was ruled by a number. From the number on the bathroom scales, to the number of calories in food and drink… it all mattered. If I saw that number go up, even by a decimal point, my head would tell me that meant more exercise and less food. Which is crazy, considering I was already eating very little and putting my body through so much strain. However, I did not ever want to be ‘fat’ again, so I was willing to do whatever it took to stop that. The thought of becoming ‘fat’ became a fear. A fear which stopped me from eating. And a fear that not only took over my life, but deprived me of it. What started out unconsciously became compelling. See, little did I know back then that it is actually possible to EAT and not be FAT. Yes, really.

It all became so easy though. That’s the scary thing. I saw the weight drop off me, and I received the compliments I longed for… so naturally, continuing the ‘diet’ was inevitable. It was working, why did I need to stop? The smaller I went, the happier it made me; it seemed. Except that wasn’t quite the case. I became a shell of my former self; pushing everyone and everything away. But, for what? The concept of being skinny? Being able to fit into a size 6? I became trapped, and scared; miles away from my real self, and the person everyone knew. I did not resemble someone who loved her body and took care of herself. I was leading a life of false happiness to mask every bit of self-hate I had. Yet, it didn’t matter - I had this voice in my head, and the comfort of crash diets; that was all I needed.

That one voice in your head alone though can become so powerful, and manipulative. And that is what really changed me. It overrode my own voice. It made me believe food was the devil. That anything I ate must automatically be obliterated through exercise; ASAP. It made me feel worthless, and disgusting. It made me want to rip my entire skin off my body. I looked in the mirror and saw the opposite of what was actually looking back at me. I was totally emaciated, but I didn’t see it. All I saw was ‘fat’. My clothes hung off me, yet they still felt tight; I'd still feel like a frump. No matter how much weight I lost, it was never enough. It controlled me. This new found ‘voice’ in my head made me become desperate. Desperate to prove that I could lose more, and I would lose more. It was a constant battle. It was menacing. It didn’t matter if I was tired, it was no excuse. I had exercise to do, and I had to do it. Oh, and my stomach hurting? That didn’t matter either, I didn’t deserve the food.

I turned to every fad diet imaginable, (teatoxes like Bootea and Skinny Coffee, Weight Watchers, etc), and it almost destroyed me. They are not sustainable, and I learnt that… the hard way. I thought that being ‘fit’ meant being ‘skinny’, but let me tell you - that’s bullshit. There is no one definition of ‘fit’. It looks entirely different on me than it would on you. Much like there is no one definition of ‘healthy’, and that’s OK. Following these strict diets, and ridiculous exercise regimes is not the way to go about being ‘fit’ or ‘healthy.’ Take this from someone who has been through it all. First hand. Ditching carbs? That won’t get you anywhere. You’ll be tired, and you’ll crave them; contrary to popular belief, they don’t and won’t make you fat. 1000-1200 calorie diets? Don’t bother, yes you’ll lose weight initially - but the second you stop that ‘diet’, you’ll gain it back. Any body needs more than 1000 calories alone to exist, never mind actually function. Thinking about it, where the fuck did that number even come from anyway?! Don’t believe the tabloids, and buy into these false ideas like I did. Because, while you may very well lose weight, if you are not careful… you will also lose sight of yourself, and so much more. And that’s something they don’t tell you.

I wasn’t told about the weakness that I would later suffer, or the exhaustion, the cold intolerance, the dizziness, the constipation. And never did I once read that I would eventually lose my period, and even have my hair get so thin it starts to fall out. No one tells you that one day you’ll have a bath, and it won’t be comfortable like it usually is because you are that bony. You are not warned about how quickly it all can become addictive.

Unbeknownst to most, this battle went on for some time. By some time, I mean years. There was a turning point for me though. The starvation and exhaustion I put myself through day in day out eventually caught up with me. Big time. I started university, the one I dreamed of going to for years, and I couldn’t handle it. It was all too much. My mind could not keep up. I worked my arse off to get the grades I needed to. Yet, there I was, not even 3 months into term when I woke up one morning and couldn’t do it any more. I couldn’t listen to that inner demon any longer. It affected every part of my daily life. So much so that I could not focus on studying because my mind was too distracted by thoughts of what I was allowed to eat and when, and what I wasn’t. Thoughts about what missing exercise for a lecture meant. Food was constantly on my mind. I was that weak, I sometimes felt like I'd ran a marathon when in reality, all I’d done was walk up some steps. I was completely burnt out. Law is a heavy, and demanding subject in general, and when your mind is a little broken, it feels even heavier. I loved my course, I really did. In fact, the 3 months I had there showed me that it was what I wanted to do. But I couldn’t do it. I had to accept I was ill and not OK. Mentally and physically. I was devastated that I had to take the year out. Being told by a doctor that I wasn’t “fit for studying” hit me hard. I was determined though. Whatever that black hole I was living in was, it something I was going to get out of. No matter what. I felt like a let down, and that killed me. But my mind needed some rest. I needed to find some peace and happiness after years of damaging myself.

That year out of uni was hard. I lived in a zombie-like state for most of it. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because it means I don’t even recognise who I was back then when I try to remember. Slowly, Charlotte did return though. I was glowing again, and I had a voice. My own voice. None of it was easy, “you’re looking healthy!” - 9 times out of 10 this made me want to stop eating again. I never did, and I never will though. It took longer than a year; it’s still happening now, 2 years later. And I’m not ashamed to say I still take medication for it. I would not be where I am today without it. There is nothing wrong with admitting you need help, and then seeking it. While that voice in my head saw me as weak, I was anything but that.

NOW...

I eat more than I ever have, granted it’s deemed as ‘healthy’; leading me onto being known as a ‘health freak’ these days. But the thing is, I enjoy it, so fuck you. It’s not a 'diet', it’s a lifestyle. Best of all though, it’s not restrictive. Yes, I admit I still struggle with disordered thoughts every single day. I’m only human. Especially when I hear “you’re going to eat all that?!”, or “you won’t finish that!”, or the times of day when my stomach feels full. It’s hard, and I don’t think it will ever suddenly become easy. I’m surrounded by people who are fixated with losing weight, so I would be lying if I said that I don’t sometimes wish I was small again. Because every now and then I do. Yet, when I do think that way, I think of what I was doing to myself in order to achieve that. Because I wasn’t living my life, and I certainly wasn’t enjoying myself. Like, do I really want to be like Susan who’s doing a carb free diet, and is constantly tweeting about how much she can’t wait to eat carbs again? Hell no, I don’t. Deep down, even Susan knows she's being a dick.

Unlike the majority of people nowadays, I gained weight. To be fair, I had to. Like, really had to. But even so, guess what? Nothing bad happened to me. If anything, that’s when the good stuff started happening. I became myself again. The thing I ‘gained’ the most was happiness and my life back. Which are so much more important than the desire to look a certain way, or be a certain weight. Sure, it's great to have goals... but don't let those goals dictate your self-worth. Who cares what size jeans you wear, really? 

I managed to say goodbye to starving myself, hating food, and punishing myself through exercise. I fought with demons, cried a 1000 times throughout the process, but got up a 1001 times too. I stopped focusing on the number; instead focusing on becoming the fittest version of myself. For myself. From putting my body through torture to steadily learning to love it for what it is, and what it does. It’s all changed. In the past, I would have jumped on the latest 'diet' hack in a heartbeat, but now? My eyes roll so far back in my head that I'm surprised I don't find the memory of my own birth. 

I go out for meals, and I drink alcohol. Heck, I eat peanut butter like there’s no tomorrow. The difference is, I now eat to fuel my body. I’m educated. I eat the way I do because it makes me feel good; inside and out (not that I should have to justify my eating habits to anyone). I now exercise because I want to, not because I have to; it makes me feel good. The gym is now a place where I feel powerful, and in control. It is no longer a place where I self-destruct. While that voice in my head still exists, and screams at me from time to time, it’s not one I now live to please… it’s hard as hell to fight it, but I do.

My life is no longer ruled by any ‘diet’ or number, and neither should anyones be. Ever. You do not need to ‘work off’ that pizza you just ate, or say no to cake on the weekend because you’ll ‘gain weight’, or ‘ruin’ your diet. Counting bread as a 'syn' too? (Weight Watchers and Slimming World... I'm looking at you), don't do that either. You only get one body, so treat it right. Because if you don’t, it will end in tears. Shrinking yourself will never bring you the happiness you think it will. Believe me. At the end of the day, there is no ‘diet’, meal replacer, or quick fix to any of it. I’ve been overweight, and I’ve been underweight. Neither of which particularly made me any more happier than the other. Happiness starts from within.

A true transformation is one that goes beyond the physical. Whilst I am very much still a work in progress, I can safely say that I have changed my story.