Skip to main content

A weighty issue

Most women I know have issues about their weight. Most would like to lose a kg or two, usually from their thighs or tummies. Some agonise about it. Some take weight loss to an extreme; over the years I've known anorexics, bulimics, abusers of diet pills and other narcotics, extreme exercisers - all in the name of thin.

Kate Moss once said something along the lines of: "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." There are many many women out there who've adopted this as their mantra.

My weight is usually fairly consistent, give or take a few pounds - a combination of nervous energy, smoking (yes, rap knuckles) and trying not to eat unless I'm hungry. The exception is when I'm pregnant, when I start to pack on weight from the moment the pregnancy test shows positive; I now know, thanks to my wonderful Dubai-based OB, that this is mainly down to a glucose problem that only appears when I'm knocked up... something to do with rogue hormones apparently (I won't go into any more detail as I know many squeamish boys read this blog as well as women - so I'll spare you). What it also meant, apart from having to feed beads of blood into a little machine three times a day (yawn), was that my pregnancy diet was dull, dull, dull... Combined with the usual ban on sushi, rare meat and excessive wine, it's no wonder I spent those long pregnant months feeling as miserable as sin.

You see, I love food. I love to cook (when I'm in the mood), I love to try new flavours, I love trawling around foreign supermarkets to find new and exciting things to taste, I love the discovery of a truly excellent restaurant, I adore red wine (nothing fancy, nothing expensive, just drinkable).

For me, happiness is sitting around a big table with good, honest food, free-flowing wine and relaxed conversation (with the moments of reverent silence that mark a truly great meal).

So it came as a bit of a shock this morning when my lovely Pilates teacher looked at me and said: "Kate, I think you need to eat more." Especially shocking since she is probably the skinniest person I know - truly beautiful but with very little meat on her tiny frame. I've been going to Denise since well before I became pregnant with Baby Belly, over two years now, so she has seen me pre-pregnancy, during pregnancy and throughout the long recovery period since Bells was born nearly a year ago. I trust her judgement, as I do that of Mrs G, my friend who also attends Denise's class, and who also agreed that I may have taken it a bit far.

So I came home and I took a long, hard look at myself. I weighed myself for the first time in a month. Then I sighed and went out to buy a packet of biscuits.

Losing weight can be seductive. And the less you eat, the less hungry you become. Perhaps you lose sight of yourself. Sometimes it takes a good friend, one who's not afraid to be honest, to bring you back.

On the menu tonight? Chicken escalopes with a semolina and herb crust, spinach sautéed with garlic, a tomato salad with balsamic glaze (found in Italy, truly delicious) and for dessert, my special chocolate cake which uses almond meal instead of flour - bestowing an amazing rich texture, a slightly gooey centre and an almost crystallised crust. I might even make a raspberry and mint coulis - what the hell, it is father's day today, after all.


juicyfatkin said…
Very well said, however please save some of that chocolate cake for me I've not had any of your yummy deserts for ages. My mouth is watering at the thought of it.
Plastic paddy said…
Yum! What time! Wish I had the same problem, but you'll probably get lots of predictable people saying that!
Kate S. said…
Juicy - it's yours. I'll bring you a slice when we meet on Tuesday morning. In fact, keep those compliments flowing and you might well have me baking one just for you... Thanks matey.

Plastic - not yet, but probably. :-)
expatmammy said…
your really brave for that post, to be so honest! As lot of people would brag to make other feel worse. I have always struggled with weight issues, they've got worse since being pregnant, I had gestational diabetes, mix that witha very insulting endocrinologist and postnatal depression and you get..... well basically I'm staring at a different body to what is actually there.x
Kate S. said…
Thank you mammy. As are you for sharing that. Gest diabetes combined with postnatal depression is no joke.

I sympathise and I'll be in touch off-blog in the next couple of days.
Anonymous said…
Many women get super skinny after the birth of a baby - could be all that running around, sleepless nights, anxiety about the precious bundle...whatever, it is worth looking at your diet and keeping up with vits and iron supplements. The weight usually comes back as life settles down again.
Anonymous said…
You're all crazy. Fat chicks rule!

Popular posts from this blog

Apologies for being incommunicado this week and hope none of you out there are too distraught not to be receiving the usual almost-daily MotV missives. The reason for the silence is that I'm up to my neck, metaphorically-speaking, in research papers for my first grad course assessment. This experience has made me realise how rigorously un-academic I am in my thinking. It has also illuminated how reliant I am on red wine in order to get through endless evenings typing furiously on my laptop, not to mention the fueling of increasingly colorful curses that I feel obliged to aim at the University's online library system which consistently refuses to spit out any of the journals I'm desperate for (I refuse to believe this is 100% due to my technical incompetence...)Oh well, if this is the price one has to pay in order to realize a long-cherished dream then it's not all that bad... No one ever said a mid-life career change would be easy. Wish me luck!

Recommended & the Mahiki dance-off

My GFs and I went to Mahiki last night, great fun as usual but made me feel a bit old; it seems that Thursday night is the playground of the just-past-pubescent. Oh well. Good tunes though, so whatever.In between taking over the dancefloor - the youngsters may have youth on their side but frankly that shrinks to insignificance in the face of two decades of clubbing experience - one of my GFs and I got into a conversation about why so many people are full of bull.It appears that many people we come across are content to live their lives in a superficial way, skimming the surface of what life has to offer and equating the ownership of stuff (cars, houses, boats, jewelry, designer clothes) with happiness. They converse in terms of status, strut their possessions as a measure of their own self-worth, take themselves far too seriously, are quick to judge others, easily annoyed, complain a lot about very little and their worries seem to far outweigh their joys. Personally, I think all that…


Following on from the realisation that my lungs are filthy and if I don't give up the smokes soon I face a life of wheezing at best, off I trotted to see the charming Dr T.

Dr T, who's charming by virtue of the fact that he's less jaded than the other doctors in the surgery (in other words, he treats patients as if they're human beings with a right to NHS services rather than annoying fraudsters trying to gain sympathy for imaginary illnesses) promptly put me on potentially habit-forming drugs to get me off the evil weed. Something doesn't feel quite right about this but since I'm so pathetically grateful to have a doctor who's willing to give me more than two seconds of his precious time, I have acquiesced to his demands.

Anyway, this wonder drug is called Champix and promises to have me merrily chucking my smokes in the bin in no time. Or it will if I can get past the possible side effects, the highlights being abnormal dreams, nausea, flatulence, snoring, …