To Whom It May Concern

I was a little unsure of how to approach this subject without sounding ungrateful, so I will go with what I usually do and say it from the Heart.

I know that I have hurt my friends and family in the past, and I can never take that back......but that was not the real me. That was my eating disorder, and that has been and gone. 

I have never felt more positive about myself. Yes, I do have off days where I feel old, don't like how I'm looking but the difference is those odd times don't turn into months. They do not control me or define me. I do not restrict my diet or obsess over calories or my weight. I still have no need to know the number on the scale.

The past few years have taken such a toll on my body, my shape has changed dramatically due to surgery, my weight never really got back to 'normal' my muscle tone has disappeared and I want to change this.

I have thought about this a lot and at first I felt like a hypocrite  Was starting a training regime going against all I stand for? Was I letting the people down that I try to support? Was I back on the road downhill?

When It came down to it I could honestly say no to all of these questions.

My Anorexia was never about my weight, it was about my control. You need to understand that in order to understand what I am doing is a life change, a change for the better. A fitter healthier me.

I am also a bit of a lazy bugger, so a personal trainer is my motivation. I also have a goal to reach, I want to run a marathon and raise money for Sweda. 

I do understand why you worry, and I love you all for that. I have reached a place in my life where I am happy, I am at peace with myself, and within that place you will still find chocolate, takeaways, cider and moments of being a couch potato :) Thank you for being there for me.

Boobies

Due to my past few posts being a little melancholy I have decided to change direction and go for something a little more uplifting :) Boobs.

Unlike my Mother, my Sister or Dolly Parton I was never blessed with an ample bosom. I was a late developer and yearned for the day I had a chest! When all the girl at school were having their bra straps pinged by the boys there I was still in my ladybird vest.......

I practised in the privacy of my room stuffing Mums bras with loo roll or socks and surveying my profile in the mirror, just to see what if?  Alongside my Adam Ant make-up practice I'm sure I was becoming more appealing to the opposite sex on a daily basis.

Then the day came....  I had started to blossom slightly. OK they were more like a couple of gnat bites than budding breasts but we all had to start somewhere.

I was allowed my very first trainer bra (actually was my elder Sisters cast off.)  I can remember it well. White  (slightly greying from a mixed wash) with red polka dots, fraying elastic back and bent hook and eye fastening!! Should have kept it, would have been vintage now. 

This begs a question. why the hell are they called training bras? What were my Boobies in training for? They were pretty good at standing up on their own, was there something exciting awaiting these Boobs of mine that I wasn't ready to be exposed to yet?

I do wish I had taken a Booby photo a day, imagine that on fast forward :)

So back to Bras. I love Bras. I don't think my Husband understands the importance of having so many bras, especially now they have retired and come out of training.

There's Bras for T-shirts, seam free of course, Bras to push them up and separate them, ones that give you a uni -boob or a cleavage that to be honest can quite often resemble my arse, my knees or the crease in my elbow. (I dare you to take a photo without laughing.) There's blow up Bras, Gel Bras, peep hole Bras (never had One) sports Bras, under wired, no wires, bedroom bras, balconette, halterneck, strapless, the list goes on and on.

Of course you need the pants to match the Bra, along with the handbag and shoes. God forbid you were in an accident and were caught wearing underwear that didn't match!

As I came out of my teens I am pleased to say my Boobs did catch up and we have had an interesting time together. Being pregnant is like having an instant boob job. After having my Son they were just there, 2 massive bowling balls stuck to my chest which leaked like a bloody dripping tap and I had to carry down the stairs.

It suddenly all clicked into place; this was the training the Bra was for!! Ouch.

From then on it was a downward spiral. I was transported to my childhood days, back in front of the mirror, surveying my womanly Bosom. This time it wasn't loo roll, it was tit tape, just to see what I would look like with an uplift.  Hilarious.

My Boobs have given my child comfort, a place to rest a weary head, my Husband pleasure ;)

Boobs, Tits, Breasts, Jugs, Knockers, whatever you want to call them, they're all mine, and I love them.

Girlie's, a little note also to check your boobies