OK, I know there are people who read this blog who have said these very words to me (and it's been said to me a lot recently), so don't take it personally, but if ONE MORE PERSON says, "I can't believe you had 30kg to lose! You wore it so well!" (or words to that effect) then I'm going on a homicidal rampage.
I kid you not.
There will be death, people. Copious amounts of messy, slow death.
What are people thinking when they say this to me?
I know they mean well, but when I hear those words, my brain hears, "You looked fine, we could barely tell you were a fat sow, you didn't need to lose all that weight!" (Hey, I warned you that this blog was going to be irrational.)
Yes, I've spent many years dressing very carefully so that I didn't look as big as I was. But I was big. Really fucking big. Just because you didn't see it doesn't mean I wasn't big.
It is not flattering to be told that you wore 30kg of flab well. It does not make me feel better. I have come to terms with the fact that I was morbidly obese. I don't need others to try to make me feel better about that.
What it makes me feel is that losing all that weight was pointless. If I looked just fine topping the scales at 100.6kg, then why bother taking it off? (Remember, IRRATIONAL blog!) Did my fat suit me? Should I just keep prancing around in an obese body because I didn't look obese?
Seriously, I've come to terms with what I did to my body. I don't need you to try to make me feel OK about that. Been there, done that, threw out the t-shirt because it's too big for me now.
I understand that weight can be a very sensitive issue and people are worried that they will say the wrong thing. Tell me I look vibrant, fitter, disgustingly well, more muscular, fantastic, whatever. But when I tell you I've lost 30kg, believe me when I say that I needed to lose it.
And do NOT tell me I wore it well.