Although he was proud of my achievements, that visit left me perplexed. I had reached within 1kg of my ideal weight, which had made me happier about my body, and yet, somehow, he seemed less attracted to the new "tiny" me. Although there were other factors at play, I'm not going to lie that his reduced attraction to me didn't play at least some small part in my regaining weight.
Meanwhile, to drop to that weight and maintain it (or near enough), I realised my mind had had to shift a lot. Some of it was a healthy shift. But some of it was seriously unhealthy. Not the same type of 'unhealthy' as during my late teens and early twenties, but still not healthy.
I was obsessively counting calories and weighing myself. I spent at least five hours in the gym every week in 2011. In 2012, and until I sustained a foot injury that curtailed my gym-going for a while, I often spent over seven hours in the gym per week, taking part in lots of Les Mills classes and caning myself on a stationary bike.
Whilst seven hours per week in a gym isn't unhealthy in and of itself, the internal dialogue I was having with myself was anything but healthy. The time I was in the gym was penance or payment for poor choices made in my eating and drinking habits or my lack of activity in my daily life.
When I wasn't overtly punishing myself, I was trading calories out for calories I would subsequently be able to take in. If I burned 600 calories on the bike and 450 calories in a Body Pump class, I could eat that pizza or drink that cider, and everything would be okay.
Whilst reducing my weight to my ideal in 2011/2012, even the MyFitnessPal app ceased telling me how much I could expect to lose in five weeks "if every day were like today". I was regularly achieving a deficit in calories in/calories out that was deemed unhealthy. I consumed fewer than 1,200 calories and often burned more than 1,000 calories. Even fitness apps have a conscience.
By January 2013, I'd developed what a GP believed to be Morton's neuroma in my left foot. It was subsequently successfully treated as rheumatoid arthritis in one of the toe joints. The pain in my toe was so severe that it forced me to cut down and then stop exercising entirely.
After cortisone injections, I was discouraged from any impact exercise - running, jogging, jumping - for a while, at least, but possibly permanently. I was also warned not to wear high heels - even low ones - for any period. They would place more pressure on the ball of my foot and potentially rekindle the issue.
With my exercise options and time at the gym somewhat limited, I still spent a lot of time on the stationary bike. I was still keeping my weight within a reasonable range, but it crept up again over time, much of it caused by a lack of exercise and an excess of alcohol. But also through continuing to consume large quantities of food. That quantity of food was acceptable while I was exercising to excess. But, without the exercise to trade the "calories out" against the "calories in", there was a gradual weight increase.
Mixed in there, though not directly related to my weight, my relationship broke down. That contributed to more poor decisions on eating, drinking and exercise as well as depression, anxiety and poor sleep.
Since then, I've hit new highs and had lows again, though not as low as 53kg.
I've tried to be kinder to myself. More gentle.
I've tried to see myself the way I see other women now. Not the way I used to see other women, which was in an internalised misogynistic fat-shaming way. I see other women in a way where I don't think, "She would be beautiful if she lost some weight". I think "She is beautiful". And her weight - whichever end of the spectrum it is, or in the middle - doesn't influence why I see her that way.
It takes a lot of work. I can more easily see others as beautiful irrespective of their weight than I can look at myself in the mirror. Or look at photos others have taken of me when I'm overweight. Or that I'd taken of myself years ago when I was 70kg+.
It's still hard. I still have to re-train myself every time I look at photos of myself. It contributes heavily to why I don't take self-portraits anymore, though I want to.
But, even without being overweight, when I weighed in the low to mid-50s, I could pick apart every inch of my body to tell you what still needed work. What still made me "less than".
I've also grown up in a culture where to be desired is everything, even when I can see past a relationship being a measure of my worth. If I'm 100% honest, desire is still something I use to measure my self-worth. Lack of desire within a relationship is probably an even harder pill for me to swallow.
And it's so easy - when a former lover admits they find me less attractive due to my weight gain - to fall back into unhealthy behaviours, to punish myself. Because maybe my weight gain led to me being less desirable and to our break-up. But that doesn't fix anything that wasn't already broken. And it won't help me be who I want and need to be going forward.
Depending on the day of the week or the hour of the day. How many hours since my last meal and how much or how little I ate the day before. I weigh about 10kg less than I weighed at the new heaviest weight I reached a year ago.
I'm not "happy" with my current weight. I'm not "happy" with how I look, how my clothes fit me and how I look naked. And I know I have a lot of unhealthy habits.
But I also know many of my previous tactics that kept me at or helped me back to around 52kg aren't healthy.
I have to regularly remind myself that those who've never had an issue with weight will rarely understand or empathise. Whether blessed with a fast metabolism or never experienced an eating disorder, addiction or mental health issue.
I need to find a healthier way to get back to being strong and fit and resolve issues I have with my lower back strength. Not to mention regaining strength and confidence with my left ankle after the fracture I sustained in October 2019.
I need to continue to seek a healthier relationship with my body. I've been trying for so long. You would think it would become easier over time, but it doesn't.
