“Dear Imogen, I think you’re wonderful .. please show me some fucking respect. I love you, your body xx”I went to the hospital today, they always weigh you before appointments, something I’ve always felt very difficult. In years gone by it was horrific because I was too big to get out of my wheelchair to be weighed. I mean there were lots of reasons why I couldn’t easily move from my wheelchair, my impairment was far more significant than it is now, but during my weight loss I realised just how big an impact that was having on my ability to move freely. When I was being weighed, I had to be moved onto a bed on a ward and then hoisted (a big chain like contraption that had a special box attached in order to show how much load they were lifting), something that usually took at least 2 nurses, sometimes more.

More recently it was hard because I knew I was under weight. I used to refuse to take my shoes off, keep my bag on and eat breakfast just to add a little more weight to avoid red flags. AS it happens, the way you’re treated as a ‘thin’ person is far less upsetting than as a fat one. Even though I suspect some people knew my weight was an issue, I was only ever praised for having lost such a significant amount, never questioned on how I was coping now. As a fat person you’re met with scowling brows are pity. People would talk about all the reasons it was ‘excusable’ that I was fat because I couldn’t do so many things. Now of course I question the need to worry about my fatness, politically it was irrelevant how fat I was or ‘why’ I was fat, if that’s my choice it should be respected.
Now I avoid knowing my weight. I will write about this in another post. But for the time being, I did a ‘final weigh’ when I decided to delete MyFitnessPal and I didn’t plan to weigh again.
Today I asked them not to tell me what numbers flashed up and stood on the scales backwards. Frustratingly the Dr was handed the paper in front of me and before I knew it there was a number starring right at me.
I took a deep breath and carried on with the consultation but the overwhelming desire was to get up and check the BMI chart on the wall. As soon as she left the room, I googled the conversion into stone and pounds. The feeling actually reminded me of a binge, that urgency I felt, the rushed behaviours, ‘quick before anyone sees you’.
I wish I hadn’t felt the need to, and I find it frustrating that I decided the number was ‘okay’ when I know it means nothing. I spent a little while thinking about what would have been the significance had the number not have been okay. But I think driving my self mad over numbers that I plan not to know is probably a waste of my head space, so I quickly put that to bed!I’ve had to fight a little with my self to eat enough today, but I’ve really tried. I took this photo to remind my self that eating isn’t about calories or weight, it’s about self respect, self care and self love.

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Don’t forget you deserve to eat! You deserve the respect and love you so freely give to others. Happy days!
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