Still after all this time…

It’s Friday night. I’m watching Bridget Jones’s baby (again) after which I shall go to bed & continue re reading Persuasion. Probably a pretty nice cosy night in, but Bridget & Austen are red flags for me.

I always read Austen when I feel wobbly. I find the manners & gentle wit soothing. Whenever I read about Elliots or Dashwoods they seep into my dreams. Georgian heroines winning happy endings is a definite upgrade on what’s usually swilling around my subconscious. Bridget Jones offers a similar, but slightly more bittersweet comfort. Echoes of Austen, shadows of my own experience. Sadly, sans the fairy tale ending. They amount to my mixed media version of a junk food binge.

I love some good old fashioned romance, but my own Mr Darcy is not what I’m longing for. I don’t know that I’m actually cut out for the conventional vision of love. I’ve given it some good tries; satisfaction never abounds. Perhaps what I miss is just more innocent times. Younger me believed in things I can’t muster the faith for anymore. That is both freeing and, well, sad.

I feel like I’m standing on the edge. I can’t see what lies beneath. The uncertainty scares me. I’m grinding through the days. Fighting the urge to stay in bed. Backing thoughts of blood into corners. I’m teetering on the brink of that big blank something.

Maybe this is how you feel when you’re prone to crazy and about to turn 40. Or perhaps this is just always going to happen. Remission & Relapse. Almost sounds like a novel a 21st century Jane Austen would write. She’d probably find a way to lighten to the mood. Alas, I lack her talent.

Instead I’ll borrow some well-being from her work. Mansfield Park can follow Persuasion. I might even dig out the Bridget books too. I’ll take light relief where I can get. Hold my nerve. I’ve survived steeper falls than this. There’s always safe ground waiting.

I wanna hold your hand…

Valentine’s Day is rolling up this week. I know it’s a marmite type celebration, but I’ve always liked it. I think it’s nice to devote a day to being a little soppy or sexy or both. Obviously don’t save it all for that one day, but a bit of extra lurve in the depths of winter is no bad thing.

That said I know that not everyone is feeling romantic. Some folk are lonely, some revel in their Singleton status, some eschew the expectation of performing on a certain day. All are absolutely right to feel what they feel. So, I thought I’d offer a range of valentine’s gifts to suit all. Buy them for a lover, a friend, yourself or just because they’re cool.

She’s Angry is one of my favourite insta accounts. I pretty much love everything they create. Their Self healing piece proudly hangs on my bedroom wall. This is another triumph.

She’s angry print. A woman wearing white pants with the words I said what I said across her collar bones

She’s Angry

These stunning creations are high on my wish list. They are the perfect gift for yourself & any gorgeous chick in your life. What could be better than having your self love emblazoned on your arse?

Plus size model wearing lingerie with self brings beauty embroidered on

Felicity Haywood Playful Promises

If you’ve had it with the romance & just want to get physical, make yourself clear with this pendant. I love a bit of crude humour. When juxtaposed with the traditional/delicate I love it even more.

Good love heart pendant with the inscription, less talk more cock

Nouvelle Nouvelle

On a sweeter note there is this cute lamp. If your house is full of love or you’re trying to will it so, this cute neon is a perfect addition.

Desk last lamp with red neon ‘love’ inside large exposed bulb

Not on the High Street

Now back to the bawdy. If you want to add a bit of kink to your life; Spunk Rock is the place for. Whether it’s sexy prints, drag queen portraits or one of a kind commissions, art doesn’t get hotter. I own a few of their pieces & I cannot wait to purchase more.

Spunk Rock

Do you have someone special, but are still feeling a tad pissed off at the world? Why not combine the romantic with the radical. Any politically informed hottie would be delighted to sport this ring.

Gold & silver band rings engraved with fuck the Tories

Fuck the Tories

I shall end on a frothy note. This cute print takes references from The Beatles & Friends. It’s gentle, pretty & the right kind of soppy.

Print of a lobster with the words, I wanna hold your hand

Blank Inside Design

And a happy new year…

I think it’s fair to say that 2019 has been a shit show. A political nightmare on a global scale. Environmentally disastrous & frankly a genuinely worrying time to be alive. My faith in humanity has taken a battering this year.

It won’t be like this all the time stencilled onto a pavement

It hasn’t been an especially uplifting 12 months on the personal front either. There’s been loss, illness & a struggle for meaning. It has all felt a little pointless at various stages, but I made it. Here I am living & learning. Carrying on.

Woman in bed with teary eyes

The year got off to a heartbreaking start, but there have been ups. I cemented a crucial relationship & extricated myself from one, which in hindsight, I hadn’t wanted to be in for quite a while. My people have proven once again how marvellous they are. Circling around when needed & letting me be when required.

Txt conversation

There have been a few professional triumphs. I returned to public speaking (terrifying), embarked on a little social media consultation & posed for some excellent photographers. I produced writing I am proud of and my expanded audience significantly.

I applied myself to the task of enjoying life. It’s not always easy when dealing with chronic & mental illness; I’m pleased with my progress. My little ones continue to be of endless interest. I have immersed myself in the joy they bring as often as possible. I’ve allowed myself to enjoy time with someone lovely & undemanding. I even had some successful surgery.

Selection of pictures of children

Most importantly (I think), I have released myself from the need to know where I’m going. I always thought my biggest purpose was motherhood & letting go of that dream has been challenging. I felt bereft of meaning. It has taken time & wise counsel to discover that perhaps I don’t need all the answers right now. It’s ok to take some time to breathe & live. Hopefully other options will present themselves. In the meantime I can work on career goals and hopefully continue to squeeze maximum happiness out of life.

Path continued painted cement ground with foot & walking stick

So, it’s true. Life goes on. I suppose that’s as true on a larger scale as it is personally. We can still strive to be the change. Sadly, it looks like there will be lots of opportunities to test the courage of our convictions. I hope we prove ourselves brave.

Mirror image of fat women smiling

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* Photography Credit – Megi Aben

I’ll drink to that…

I know getting dressed up for your own living room on Xmas day is a blogger cliche, but I love it. I have always picked out something fancy for Christmas dinner and this year was no different. I did at least leave the house. I went all the way to my sister’s and I looked very festive.

It was the second outing for my lush new trousers. This time I was aiming for a fancier look. I plumped for a this lacy bodysuit & a deep red lip.

ly h Kerr Xmas day outfit

I added the elf hat for photos, which turned out to be a mistake as the boy wanted it on my head all day long. We all had a really lovely day. Presents & excitement galore for little people. Large glasses of fizz (& presents) for the big ones. My Sister was the perfect host, catering to all my fussy needs. I hope you all had an equally Merry Christmas.

Plus size woman in velvet trs and lace bodysuit beside Xmas tree

Trousers – Elvi

Bodysuit – Boohoo

Two women drinking wine

Cheers!

Easy ways to support your spoonie friend at Christmas…

I often share tips to help chronically ill people manage different aspects of their lives. However, sometimes the trickiest part of the spoonie life is dealing with how those around us react to our illness. This time I thought I’d give some hints to those who know & love a spoonie.

Please don’t give us a hard time when we cancel

This applies all the time, but especially during the festive season when there are so many events & parties. We know we disappoint you when we cancel. We aren’t sick on purpose. We can’t control our flares. Trust me, we really want to be there. We are sorry we’re missing your thing, particularly if it’s really important to you. It’s fine to say you’ll miss us or you’d have loved us to be there, but please don’t get angry. Try to consider all the times we do show up for you despite being in pain or dealing with other symptoms. We already feel more guilty that you can imagine & we are incredibly grateful that you stick with us.

White txt on pink background, my brains says let’s do something exciting today. My body says don’t listen to that fool.

Take our restrictions/limitations into account when planning activities

Disabled & chronically ill people can have a whole range of needs. We really don’t have a problem answering questions when they are considerate & relevant. If you take into account accessibility needs (disabled toilets, stairs, seats, dietary restrictions, crowds etc) it is much more likely that your spoonie friends can attend. More than that they’ll actually be able to stay for the whole shebang & enjoy themselves. It is actually much easier that you think these days. Many venues are happy to help you make accommodations or already have them in place. All varieties of specialised food are commonly available. Plus I for one am often happy just to know there will definitely be a seat so I can retreat if I need to.

Take no for an answer

If we say we are too ill, we mean it. It’s not an excuse nor the start of a debate. We’ve always thought out every possible variation before deciding we can’t make it. It doesn’t help when you say we’ll feel better once we’re out. We’ll feel much worse if we push ourselves too far. We know our limits & all our responsibilities; we are the best judge of what we can handle.

No comparisons

Please, I beg you, don’t do comparisons. Getting upset because we went to so & so’s birthday, but can’t come to yours is pointless. It won’t make us any more able to attend & will just make everyone feel worse. Chronic illness is a crap shoot. We never know how we will feel on any given day. We might have been the life & soul at dinner last week, had a ball with the wee ones on Tuesday & unable to move without crying on Thursday. There is no predicting how chronic illness will behave. The things we don’t attend is not linked to how much we wanted to be there.

Siamese cat on blue background with txt, no pain no gain. Chronic illness is not a competitive sport.

Bonus Tip

Don’t tell us we can do anything we put our minds to. We absolutely can’t & this is a shitty reminder. It’s not inspiring, it’s dismissive.

Your spoonie friend loves you. They are delighted that you are on their life and they are doing everything they can to be reliable & fun & supportive. Please cut us a little slack.

Easy ways to support your fat friends…

I think most people want to be loving & supportive of their friends. Whenever I discuss body positivity (online or in person) most decent straight sized people are mostly in favour of the theory. I’m often congratulated & told it is important to spread the message. I suspect these people would consider themselves supportive of their fat friends.

Whilst I agree that they are well intentioned & aim to be supportive I still hear the same complaints from the fat friends over & over. It can be really hard to address these face to face. So, here is a handy to guide to help thin folk support the fat people in their life. I’m starting with the basics; 5 easy steps that anyone can manage.

Don’t tell me you feel fat.

Fat is not a feeling. When you describe your feelings of inadequacy or unattractiveness as ‘feeling fat’, your opinions on fat are very clear. In addition please don’t complain about how fat you are when you are half my size. What I hear is that you think I am repulsive.

Don’t include me in your diet talk

Diets don’t work. That is scientific fact. Studies show time & again that almost every diet actually results in long term weight gain. I believe that diet talk is toxic. I can’t tell you what to do with your body, but please don’t involve me in it. I don’t want to know how many calories are in my or your meal. Keep your weight goals to yourself. Food has no moral value, you’re not being good when you order a salad. You can follow whatever regime you please without telling me about it.

Don’t expect me to always be ok with trawling around shops that don’t carry my size.

I can’t tell you how many shopping trips I have been on where there was no chance of me buying anything. I’m not even sure that most straight sized people are even aware of this. I’m not saying I’ll never help you pick out a new frock, but please try to be aware that it isn’t all that much fun for me. There are limits to how much time I want to spend sitting in waiting rooms holding your coat.

Don’t laugh at/make fat jokes.

Whether it’s a character in a film or a disparaging comment about that bitch you hate at work when you include their weight it stings. When you find Thor in a fat suit hilarious you’re laughing at my actual body. If you can’t criticise Trump without mentioning his weight you are telling me that him being fat is part of what you dislike about him.

Don’t comment on weight loss/gain

The aim of my body positivity is reach a point where body size is neutral. I would dearly love for my bulk or lack there of to just not matter. With that in mind, please don’t comment on my weight fluctuations. Weight loss is not inherently good. Any changes may be unintentional. They may not even be benign. The size of my person requires no discussion. In the same vein don’t expect me to congratulate or castigate anyone else’s weight change.

I know some readers will be thinking this is all very demanding. No doubt the, we can’t say anything anymore mob, will have lots to say about my suggestions. Remember, though, they are only suggestions. No one can stop you from saying anything you feel you must. I’m simply letting you know that when you do, it hurts. It comes down to respect. The choice is yours.

Make me glow…

I have a sad that Halloween is over, but I do have one last seasonal post. It is of course our new Halloween tradition, GlasGLOW. Gone are the days of horror burlesque & tequila shots. Nowadays my sis & I take the boy to get our glow on and he loves it.

Glasglow entrance

This year’s GlasGLOW is even bigger and better. It is comprised of 9 different works. All with their own spooky light show. We skipped the zombies as sounded a bit much for the baba, but otherwise suitable for all ages.

UFO & spooky lights

The boy’s favourite was definitely walking through all the dangly lights. Auntie la la’s was the disco in kibble palace. Some old school dance tunes reminded of my wilder Halloween nights whilst still offering an opportunity for me to have a wee seat.

Glasglow Party palace, kibble palace

I loved all the wee local nods & the attention to detail is spot on. The boy had so much fun rascalling around in the dark. If you can still get tickets, it’s absolutely worth it.

Sleeping boy & light up balloon

The day is full of birds…

It’s been a quiet week on the blog front. I had a little procedure last week and have been losing the battle with fatigue ever since. I’ve slept more in the last 7 days than the previous 7 weeks and I’m still bloody shattered.

The good news is that my minor surgery should help tackle two troublesome issues. After a little follow up treatment both my stomach lining & haemoglobin levels should be in more robust shape. The down side is I can hardly keep my eyes open. Yet, never actually feel like I’ve slept for more than 5 mins. Fatigue is hardcore.

Thus, nothing much is getting down. Very little writing. Hardly any crossing the front door and even less wearing of actual clothes. My content bank is overdrawn.

Unsurprisingly I spent what little energy I had on a Tuesday adventure. My sis & her boy never fail to perk me up.

Me, my sis & nephew at Loch Lomond

This week we soaked up the soothing beauty of the bonnie banks & met some new feathered friends. Owls are fast becoming the baba’s second favourite thing. He does love a twit twoo, but nothing is knocking ducks off the top slot.

Trossachs National Park

Scandinavian owl

Now it’s back to resting in the jim jams and snuggling with my boy. Just don’t tell him I’ve been fraternising with the enemy.

Sleeping cat

Feelin’ good as hell…

Global warming has given us another insane heatwave. It’s hard to keep cool in this weather. If you are concerned about what others may say about any flesh you reveal, it’s even harder. So, I thought I’d cover some old ground just in case any new readers need some tips. Here’s my guide to getting comfortable with your body.

Look at yourself.

I think the first step is looking at yourself. Really look. Stop avoiding mirrors and rushing to get dressed after a showers. Get comfortable naked. And in your underwear. And different types of clothes. Touch yourself, not the way (well, that way if you want). When it comes to your body familiarity does not breed contempt. Getting to know your body leads to acceptance, which is the first step to self love. You’ll be surprised how quickly you learn to enjoy your jiggle.

Various images of body parts

Take pictures.

Photograph yourself every chance you get. Selfies, nights out, big events, pictures of your feet, anything. Get used to looking at yourself living your life. I used to duck out of pictures because I hated the way I looked in them. Forcing myself to be present in those pictures plus taking hundreds of myself is the only thing that let me see the truth. I didn’t like the things society had taught me not to like. I hated my rounder face, flabby arms & chunky calves because I thought I had to be something else to be worthy. Once I started appreciating those pictures for what they were; a record of living, I could enjoy them. The more I looked at images of myself and others the more I could see that everyone had those terrible unflattering shots where they look nothing like themselves. Everyone had those snaps that amplify their perceived flaw. Everyone has those pictures in which we miraculously look like a model version of ourselves. None of it matters. What matters is having the memory of that time & place. Capturing that moment of you living your life. Seeing myself living & loving in those pictures showed me that my body was absolutely good enough. Your body is just the vehicle that allows you experience the world. What you look like at any given time matters much less than what you’re feeling & seeing & loving.

Happy fat snap shots

Positive consumption.

Surround yourself with things that make you feel good. Change your reading, watching & following habits. Ditch investing in anything that is focused on diet culture & traditional beauty standards. Discovering the Body Positive blogging community changed my life. For the first time I was seeing fat people who liked themselves. People with bodies similar to mine proudly taking up space & looking amazing. When you submerse yourself in spaces that reject fat phobia you begin to feel differently about yourself. To begin with I was in awe of those plus bloggers. I thought I could never have their confidence or be so beautiful. As I learned more about bopo and started unlearning all I previously been taught about my body, I had a revelation. If these fat women I was admiring were stunning, sexy & elegant then I could be too. If I see beauty in other fat bodies then what I despise about myself is not my wobbly belly. Click unfollow on anything that makes you feel not good enough. Replace that stuff with content that embraces diversity and honours people who look like you.

Start doing

Make a list of all of the things you want to do but feel you can’t because you are fat. Not just wild ambitions, everything. Do you worry about eating crisps on the bus? Think you shouldn’t wear a short skirt or even shy away from getting on top with your lovers? Put it all on the list and then start doing them. Start living your life. Pick the easiest ones first. Trust me, your confidence will grow. There will always be someone who does not like you loving your fat self. There will sometimes be looks or comments. You will stop feeling crushed by them. When you realise how much you gain from accepting your body as it is and experiencing your life to the max, someone saying you’re fat no longer matters. Losing weight will not make you happier. All you problems shrink to fit into your smaller body. You can live now.Fat woman living

Stay tuned for my advice on avoiding all the discomforts summer can bestow on is chubs.

My week in pictures…

It’s been a hectic week. I did some utterly lovely things & some necessary tedious things. Predictably by Friday is was unable to move. Still in recovery mode, but it was worth it.

I kicked things off with a wee hotel stay on Monday. My sis, the baba & I enjoyed a couple of days of chilling out (& carrying on) at the Westerwood Doubletree. The boy loved the pool and just like his auntie, he is a fan of a hotel breakfast. The grown ups did some relaxing and then undid it all by watching Chernobyl. Amazing tv, but quite possibly the most terrifying thing I have ever viewed.

Westerwood Hotel & Spa

I had to do a little trek to Gourock, which turned out to be a lot prettier than I remembered. Then hopped on the ferry to Dunoon, which although quaint was much less interesting than I recalled. I did however enjoy the fresh air & the (almost) sea air.

Gourock Dunoon Pier

Hump day saw me buzzing from hospital to hospital to attend various clinics. I had my first go at a new treatment, dome boring maintenance & a whole lot of waiting around. Such is spoonie life.

Iv treatment New southern general Glasgow

Ootd wise I seem unable to kick my yellow habit this week. Clearly I am seeking a little extra cheer; yellow tones fit the bill.

Ootd

Thursday I was back to rascalling with the boy. We did all our messages & fed some birds before checking out the suspension bridge. I used to be a little scared of them, but I’m so attracted to their splendour that I cowboyed up. The boy was delighted with all he could survey from the bridge. Ducks on the water, trains on the bigger bridge & especially our new tiger friend.

Suspension bridge, River Clyde Tiger street art

View from bridge, River Clyde

By Friday my body had decided it’d had enough activity. I could barely get out of bed. I did the resting thing. Saturday was more of the same. Today I finally made into the bath, fresh jammies & onto the sofa for a cuddle with my cat. I even managed to owing my nails before retreating back to bed. Go me.

Stuck in bedBronan ly h Kerr rainbow nail art