The temptation to start this blog with ‘I love myself, I want you to love me…’ was almost overwhelming. However, it should start like this. A while ago a friend of mine said ‘I can’t believe how much better sex is with someone that you love’. I must have looked at her incredulously, cause then she said ‘Am I the only one that doesn’t know this?’. To which I replied, yep. But she is a lot younger than me so maybe people her age don’t know that. So here is moment where I think that I may have just cottoned on to something that others have known for a long time.
I am learning to love myself. It’s hard. Maybe hard is not the right word, maybe challenging is a better word. It’s well known that I am rubbish at taking a compliment. And I guess that most people I know would never say that I had a problem with being confident or speaking to people. Well they would be wrong. Very wrong.
The thing is that I like myself, but I am very rough on myself. I don’t particularly like the body that I am housed in and have tried every trick in the book to lose weight off this frame. I have recently discovered that it is going to be pretty hard now that I have a wee disease called endometriosis. The cure for this is permanently having to have hormones of some kind going on, so this means that my body will really struggle to lose weight. So I can either completely starve or I can do the best I can and learn to accept that I will always be a bit larger than normal. There are two alternatives. One is pregnancy, and the other is being in indescribable amounts of pain constantly. One is not feasible right now and the other is just too daunting to think about. I guess that I am just upset because I really wanted to loose weight and look amazing for going home this year and for my sisters wedding. But I am beginning to think, that despite my very best efforts that it might be case of this is as good as it gets and that you know what, it could be worse. I am currently relatively healthy and after the last few years I have learnt how precious this is. I can walk and run if I want. I am not disabled and if the worst thing that I have to complain about is that I carry a bit more and that I have curves, then maybe I should just learn to love it. So that is what I have been trying to do. That is not to say that I don’t hit the gym hard, but with my current working environment which involves twelve hour days this is getting impossible. I try to eat healthy as well but when you are eating lunch on the bus between meetings at 2pm, you kinda have to take whatever Pret has left and be grateful as you shove it in as fast as you can. And I totally eat my feelings. I can see on a stressful afternoon that I chow down my snacks, be they fruit or snack a jacks at a record rate. So I am learning to love my curves and I guess everyone else will just have to love them too. At least I have a beautiful cleavage to make it better.
But that is not to say that I don’t have some attributes that even I am aware of. I mentioned above that I have issues speaking to people. Now once you have removed your jaw from the floor let me explain. Once I have met you and figured out where you fit in and how to relate to you, I will chat your ears off about anything and everything. But until I have figured you out, I will be polite and if I don’t really know what to do with you, I will kinda blank you. I don’t mean to do it, I just don’t know how to relate to you. Maybe everyone is like this? I am scared a little of new people and how they will relate to me and what they will think. A lot of that has to do with the whole body thing, but a lot of has to do with wanting to be liked. Lately though, as lot has been made out of my personality. My boss said to me this morning, at an early meeting, after a crazy late night working last night, you are still smiling though and that is a great skill. My best Cate told me last week that if more people laughed at the world I did that the world might be a better place. Hmmm, I really took that one to heart. I guess that I have figured out that if you can get people looking at your face, your smile and your laugh that they might forgive the curviness below. I am aware that I am good at putting people at ease, even if internally, I am going mad thinking about what they might be thinking of me and desperately hoping not to say the wrong thing.
Since earlier this year, when there were a few horrific alcohol incidents – they are for sure going to be the subject of another blog - I have cut back a lot. This is because it is excruciating to live through the next week. After a particularly heavy night out, I will spend the next week or so beating myself up. Badly. I will analyse every word that was said, every dance move that was done and I will not look favourably on myself. The thing is that none of this means anything to anyone else. I was discussing a particularly bad incident with a friend and she was flabbergasted at what I was saying. On the night in question she thought that I was hilarious, a lot of fun and could not understand why I was upset. She was astounded that I was so hard on myself and was not impressed when I began to be a bit sensible about how I drank. The words ‘Last nights fun Nic would be drinking with us now’ at 10am on a Sunday morning came back at me. We laughed it off, but it made me see that maybe I am not the screw up that I think that I am. I am still conscious about the mistakes drunk Nic makes, but am actively trying to get over this.
Anyway that is an insight into the slightly insane world of Nic. I am starting to succeed a lot in the whole loving myself thing. Either that or I have reached an age where I think, if you don’t like it, you can just go away. Still I don’t think that you will see me as one of those old ladies that wears bikinis anytime soon. And neither will you see me give up on the whole weight loss thing either, despite the fact that it seems a bit hopeless, I have a feeling that it would be worse if I gave up. I still enjoy a few drinks, but its been a while since I have been put in a taxi that has been paid for twice, once by the person who put me in it and again by me when I got home and I think that is for the best!
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