This summer, I went to a health retreat in the countryside for a detoxtrying to give my body a rest, you know? One sunny afternoon, I was lounging outside, soaking up some rays, and next to me, sprawled out on another deckchair, was this absolutely gorgeous womanlike shed walked straight out of a fashion shoot.
We started chatting, as you do, about why we each came. I just need to lose about a pound, she said, completely seriously. I burst out laughing, thought she was joking. But no.
Ive been living like this for a year now. My boyfriend says hell leave if I dont lose weight see? She pinched the tiniest bit of skin on her tummy. Im embarrassed to even sit down
I wandered around, a bit stunned after that conversation. I even gave her a little nickname in my headLizzie One Pound. Apparently, in her boyfriends dream world, only slim people can exist, and anyone with a bit more curve would be sent packing off a cliff somewhere, like only the perfectly chiselled belonged in some kind of modern Sparta.
Recently, I found myself in a large group of people I didnt knowout for a celebration dinner at a fancy restaurant.
There was this elegant woman, perfectly polished, sitting nearby with her legs crossed just so. The shine of her tights caught the light, her shoes dangling from her heel, sipping sparkling water from a wine glassproperly turning heads. Then her husband arrived. He strode in, shook hands with all the blokes, then leaned in to her and hissed, Cover yourself up, stop flaunting your thighs! She straightened up, went red, and instantly asked the waiter for a blanketeven though she was right next to the fireplace. She spent the rest of the night looking like a miserable little sparrow with a cold.
I once decided to read biographies of famous English authors, hoping to spot some secret to their genius in their daily habits. It didnt last. Trying to connect their very human failings with their literary masterpieces just felt off.
I stopped dead in my tracks reading about Charles Dickens, actuallyloved Great Expectations, but some realities of his life were tough to stomach. Not only did he have this unsettling fascination with death, but after his wife gave birth to their fifth child and, completely worn out, was warned by doctors it was too dangerous to go through it again, he said, Well, whats the point of her then? She ended up having ten children in total.
I scroll through Instagram, and it seems like its just packed nowadays with perfectly made-up womenevery day is just gym sessions, spray tans, body wraps, spa treatments. They build their lives around fitness and looks, and beauty businesses are more than happy to cash in. Its a full-time, pricey job being one of these professional beauties, truly.
I respect hard work. But I do think weve mixed things up a bit. Girls seem to think they have to look a certain way to be loved, for men to notice and choose them. Society tells them beauty means being thin, with sharp eyebrows, pouty lips, and a peachy bumand off they go, squeezing into that mould. Now the lads struggle to tell one from anotherjust a row of identical dolls.
One time, Adam and I were at a garden market, he was hunting for bits for his allotment, and I was aimlessly wandering between the stalls. I ended up by a stand of garden ornamentslittle lanterns, flowers, spinning windmills, watering cans, bunnies and foxes. Nearby, two blokes were sizeing up some garden gnomes in silly red hats, making them look like giant toadstools. One of them was walking around, picking them up, judging which one was best, and his mate suddenly started laughing. Come on, mate, make your pick, he said. You chose a hooker last night with exactly the same look on your face Honestly, it cracked me up.
LadiesLizzie One Pound, Ella Cover-Your-Thighs, Sophie Ten Kidswhy on earth are we so harsh on ourselves, so quick to undervalue and doubt ourselves? How did we get the idea that not fitting picture-perfect standards makes us unlovable, like damaged goods? Who decided a flawless body and face are requirements for happiness?
I could give you a hundred reasons why looks and love arent linked. A friend of mine met her husband in hospital, in the kidney ward, of all places, and he fell for her when she was pale as a ghost, wrapped in a tatty dressing gown, a urine bag cheekily peeking out from under her nightie.
Take Frida Kahloever seen her? Eyebrows and all. And yet, she had some of the most brilliant, devoted men of her era at her feet.
Ages ago, I had a wisdom tooth outgone wrong, ended up with my cheek swollen up like a balloon, blood everywhere, looking absolutely awful. Could barely move. So, there I am, sprawled on the sofa, husband feeding me kefir because nothing else would go down, milk moustache and all. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and burst into tears from shock. And, do you know what he said? Youre the most beautiful woman in the world, you hear me? The most beautiful. Will you marry me? Right now?
Later, when I was better, we did the proper fancy proposal in a restaurant with a ring, down on one knee, applause, balloons and all thatbut its that first, real proposal that still makes me emotional. Back then, I believed him. Because beauty isnt just about looking perfect, and love is so much more than ticking boxes.
Its our quirks and imperfections that make us who we are. Thats what people end up loving the mostthe bits that make us unique.
Perfection doesnt really exist anyway. Or, rather, everyones perfection is different.
Just lately, I decided to get braces because, honestly, my teeth are a bit squiffy. My husband just said, I love your smile and cant see anything wrong. But if its what you want, go for it. If it were down to me, Id keep everything just as it is.
After our first son, my weight shot up to over eighteen stone, but Adam just kept telling me how lovely I looked and made it impossible to diet. I only lost the weight when I actually wanted to, not because of anything anyone said.
Adam and I were looking back at old baby photos once, me puffy and sprawled across the sofa with our boy in my arms. I asked, Why didnt you ever tell me to lose weight? I looked massive And he said, You were just my cuddly bun. Lose weight if you want, but I liked you just as you were.
Years ago, I had a bad flare up of psoriasisit looked dreadful, patches everywhere. We went on holiday and I refused to go swimming. Adam just said, Whats the matter? and I realised he genuinely didnt notice. For him, Im the beautiful onethe spots just didnt register.
Its not my husband I want to rave aboutits relationships in general. If your man only loves you when you fit his standard of beauty, its not loveits control. Youre a gorgeous, shiny apple, and if he only sees wormholeswell, hes not after an apple, is he? He wants power.
You can stick with someone out of fear of losing them, sure. But really thinkwhat would you lose? A man who sees you as nothing more than a garden gnome in a silly hat? Every bloke wants to be in charge, but real authority isnt forced; its earned, through love and respect.
Your trust and loyalty shouldnt be handed over unconditionally. Follow someone because you want to, because hes strong, kind, and secure enough to walk with you through anything. Someone you actually trust, because you were careful in choosing him.
And remember: the privilege of leading you is something he should win, every day.
