Life and stuff: Fatty fatty boombalardy
To make matters worse, I have been reading a book called Between Mexico and Poland by Lily Brett where she talks at length about her body image issues. This lady is neurotic with a capital crazy lady. The first words she learnt in Spanish were ‘sin grasa’ (no fat).
I can’t stop myself from going berserk on local specialties when I am travelling. In the USA, this meant artichokes hearts deep fried in cheese and smothered in ranch dressing. In Mexico, it meant corn-based cheesy everything. This problem will be compounded when I get home and suffer post-holiday blues. This means I will eat more American and Mexican food, albeit a b-grade homemade version doused in tears.
I have always been a chubster and have subsequently spent my whole life oscillating between trying to change or accept it. Enter Nigella Lawson. She is seriously gorgeous and also a bit of a curve ball. I decided a little while ago that she would be my role model so I grew my hair and started wearing pearls.
My point is this: why not choose a role model that is within the stratosphere of attainability? If you’re a skinny white dude, don’t try to be Muhammad Ali; try to be the Mac guy. If you’re a dwarf, go for Smurfette; not Giselle Bundchen.
Physically aspiring to something completely opposite to yourself is like trying to turn yourself into squirrel; no matter how many acorns you stash in your bedroom drawer, it ain’t gonna happen.
Who is your physical role model? And does putting on a few kgs make you feel like a social pariah?