14 July 2017

Skinny is a rule (Remembering B)

There's a rule that states: if you don't make love at the third date, you are not sure of yourself
There's a story that says who eats an apple commits the worst sin ever
It is so normal thinking... that this life is awesome, even though sometimes it's bringing me down (something's bringing me down), and that Skinny is a rule, that you tried to explain to me, I'll never forget it. I remember the street where I promised I was going to change, but I did not understand how, how do you do it.

There's a rule that states you need a tight gap to be more normal
There's a story that says you need to be skinny to be happy
There is a rule that states that if you need dieting you are a wrong person, like me
It is so normal thinking... that this life is awesome, even though sometimes it's bringing me down (it's bringing us down and down), and that Skinny is a formula you tried to teach me, I'll never forget it
I remember the summer I sworn I would not go there (I would never be fat again), but you never told me if you saved me.
Yes this life is amazing, even though sometimes it brings me down, something brings me down. Maybe Skinny is a rule only you knew, but I'll never forget you.

I didn't start, and I never understood whether you saved me or doomed me, I never understood how to do it, I never understood.

The past is like a handful of dust: it filters through your fingers, disappearing little by little.
I wish that, for one day, I could go back.
In another life, I would do things differently

11 July 2017


I step in to the dressing room and strip off my trousers.

It's not simply warm, it's hot. This summer is taxing all of us in this hot, sticky city. I used to love that at night the cold never came during the summer month, and I could simply spend hours hanging out in denim shorts or in a nice short dress, revealing my lean, long legs.
I come from the Alps, and I used to think that it's not late until it gets cold, so when I moved here, 18 years old and 110 pounds, with a BMI barely touching 17.5, I loved that part.
It's true that climate has changed since then, and now we have 38° (100.4F) at 7PM.

My whole body is breaking a sweat, which is not strange as I decided again to walk the 4km from work to home in this temperature - then again, this helps shaking off the stress from the day (and, a little nagging voice adds in my mind, it only helps minimally with the carbs I gorged at lunch).
I feel strange and suddenly I wonder if a minor earthquake is happening (that's not so uncommon here, and nothing to worry about). But no one seems to notice in the shop, so I grab the size 4 trousers I have to try on and finally realize my legs are shaking.

I sit down and think if I walked too much in the heat or something. I take a big breath and no, my blood pressure is not low. It's anxiety. It's anxiety that I may not fit in a fucking pair of what we call size 42.
I'm fucking 35 years old.
And I stumble in fear that a stupid pair of trousers I don't even like may not fit. And I'm not even in public. I need to get hold of myself.

05 July 2017

What do they see

We attended a wedding in Portugal, husband and I. Weather was horrible until minutes before the wedding, then turned into sunny and windy and everything was awesome.
I was nervous as a lot of former colleagues were there and I kept thinking "They'll see how fat I've become".

The bride was cute and skinny, with a lot of bones showing on her back.

And then, suddenly, one hour or so into the reception, I realized that the photographs had been all over me all the time. Like seriously, they later posted 4 pics of bride and groom on their website... and two of myself. Granted, no Victoria's Angels were attending, but still.

Husband and me, ready to go to the wedding. The dress hides my ugly tights thanks God, but the sad truth is that mirror was slimming