I have noticed a strange phenomenon lately. Those who never in a million years would have said how fat and unhealthy I was, seem to be completely happy to tell me how gaunt and ill I look. There is this a very foreign new body I now possess and for me is taking a long time getting used to.
Yet the hidden insults and snide comments about my new body seem to roll off the tongues of those who should know better. Is it my lack of fatness that makes me a politically correct target? God forbid you tell me whether am eating to many pies or that I need a special chair at dinner to make sure I don’t topple over during supper. MY BMI is just 24, making me just about normal. I am no near an unhealthy weight. There are highs the lows the in-betweens. I am still who I am. I am sensitive and the insults and believe me they cut just as deep. The difference is it is open season. Once a dirty little secret , only the cruelist of the cruel would dare to call me call me the old fat names I became so used to.
To be honest todays blog was supposed to be about running and exquisite pain I feel in my thighs that follow and how much it feels like flying.
SO, here I am I can fly, but I can also hurt. So, today I will sit licking my winding wondering how this catch 22 is created…But, will I exercise today FUCK YA