It finally happened, the sun has arrived. We had two whole proper hot sunny days. It did rain yesterday, but that’s Glasgow for you. Anyway, my point is, summer is coming.

With it will come a deluge of diet talk, body shaming and unsolicited opinions. That means it’s time for my annual reminder; we all have a summer body. Everyone deserves to feel the sun on their skin and enjoy the summer. There will be many external voices proclaiming the need to change or hide your body. I implore you to ignore them.

I know it can feel scary to let the world see something you have been taught to believe is bad. I also know that when you release yourself from the fear of judgement it feels goooood. Nothing terrible happens if you go to the park in a sundress with your bingo wings flying free. The truth is most people aren’t paying you that much attention. We’re all busy living our lives. We’re chatting or day dreaming or stressing or thinking about what we need from Tesco. No one is focused on your body or outfit even a fraction as much as you are.

The fuckwits who will stare or comment on a photo are in the minority. Those are not your people. Those are mean, small minded probably deeply insecure folk. Do not give them power over you or your choices. Especially when there is so much at stake.

It’s hard for me to articulate just how much happier I am since embraced the body I’m in. The freedom not just to wear whatever I feel good in, but also to enjoy what I do in those clothes has touched every aspect of my life. There were so many things that I just wouldn’t do. Activities that I love, like swimming or spa days were frought with anxiety. My career was hugely impacted by all the opportunities I didn’t think I could I take. Purely because I didn’t look the way I thought smart, successful people should look. A hot summer was just extended discomfort. Constantly trying to balance not being too hot, with not being too visible. Covering scars, flabby bits, dodging photos, worrying that I’ll embarrass people I care about. I missed so much big and small, pushing things off for a time when I’d weigh less.

Oh how I wish someone could have enlightened years earlier. I’m still fat. I’m still covered in scars. I’m peely wally, stretch marked, my boobs sag. And I’m living life more fully than I ever thought possible. My size and appearance no longer feature in my decisions. No one who matters in my life cares about the number on a scale.

I’m not denying that fat phobia exists. Nor am I saying no one will ever judge you or be unkind. What I am saying is that the joy you gain from being fully present in all of your endeavours far out weighs all that bullshit. Plus, there is no cardigan or floaty top that magically conceals one’s size. Feeling worthy of respect and happiness was my first step in being able to fight for it.

Please let me cut through all the negativity. Wear the shorts. Go to pool. Put on your sexiest outfit and strut your stuff. Our visibility allows other people to step into the light. Trust me, it is lovely out here.

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