My Twitter Rant

So, I raged out on Twitter a bit last night, due to something that is mainly my own fault and lack of self control when it comes to the food I stuff down my throat. I'm posting it here for no other reason that in hindsight it's pretty amusing (to me, anyway) and it'll serve as a reminder the next time I either do something stupid - like step on a scale - or go buy a big bag of Doritos. 

Dear Internet,
While my handsome and ridiculously for partner sits on the couch debating his THIRD sammich for supper, I'm in a warm bath doing what only can be called wallowing. Whoever invented scales ... Scratch that. Whoever decided that a woman's worth was somehow Represented by a series of numbers that accurately describe her weight should be fed his own testicles. I say "HE" because I can't imagine any semi-intelligent woman deciding that this number, that THIS was the method she thought most appropriate as her means of establishing self worth and love. 

I made a very bad mistake today Internet. A very, very, bad mistake. 

stepped on a scale at the gym. It wasn't one of those cheap ass ones either you normally find in the fitting rooms where every woman who wanders on in, strutting with her skinny bitch legs and tummy so flat that you could eat sushi off it and do sake shots out of her belly button, uses. 


This scale was the real deal. This was an old school scale where you had to push around the weights until the little arms balanced. This whole process was overseen by my former trainer so there's no way I fucked it up. WHY on EARTH I have such a morbid fascination with how much I weigh is beyond me. But, I was faced with a number. A number I do not like. I number that I don't FEEL like. Yes, that number is correct but am I now supposed to FEEL that number? I certainly don't think that I LOOK like that number. But that number to me seems unacceptable ... For several reasons. 

Deep down inside I think that that number is somehow just WRONG. Surely, if I really WERE that number - all 182 lbs of it - then I wouldn't wake up some days feeling really, really great and sexy and gorgeous and beautiful. Would I? If I REALLY WERE that number, shouldn't I be cooped up in our apartment dressed in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, guzzling gallons of ice cream and countless potato chips and smelling like a guys gym bag? But I don't do that (often).

If I WERE that number, surely somebody SOMEWHERE would say "Fuck me, look at that beached whale. That girl need to get her shit together, yo." And really, in all honesty, if I WERE that number, then I am convinced that my partner wouldn't be with me because really, who wants to be with somebody else who's as big as a fucking barn. No doubt I'm sure there are "chubby chasers" out there who might cry "Outrage!" or say that my partner is a real dick if he'd leave me for weighing or looking a certain amount. Pfft. Fuck You. It isn't LOVE at first sight, it's LUST you twat and a persons physical appearance is what attracts you to them in the first place. So Fuck all this "oh, he has a really great personality!" shit. When a guy is talking about a girls personality, they mean boobs. So if it's lust at first sight and then before you know it your body doesn't look like it used to then how do you expect to keep the attraction and desire alive and well - all because of some fuckass number on a fuckwad of a scale.

Fuck. That.

I might feel like a beached whale at the moment and have some issues with body image and self love but who fucking doesn't?! Show me one person who isn't second guessing themselves at least once or twice a day about the way they look. To doubt is to be human. But you know what? Fuck that number. Fuck how it makes me feel. Because I am NOT that number. That number can take these feelings and SUCK IT because I am Going to make that number my BITCH! In a few months, that number won't even exist. So buh-bye number and helloooooo hard work and more sweat!

  • Comments

    1. An Update:

      Since I've posted this I have managed to loose weight. I don't know howsince I have had a few days of proper binge eating with dirty take away places (KFC, Boston Pizza, Wacky Wings and Chinese food) but I weighed in yesterday and a cool 174 lbs!

      If I had known that owning a scale would result in something as positive as watching a number go down, I would have gotten one a long time ago!


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