Taking Control

No, this is not a review of Christian Grey’s twitchy palm.  Although if you really want a review of that I’ll happily supply it.  I have only read the first two - I’m making progress on the third and have enjoyed them quite a lot! :o)  I’m really surprised not to have seen more chatter on the books in the t-forums of the world.  Maybe we prefer our chick lit more romantic and refined and less mummy porn?  Or perhaps I’m just looking in the wrong places?

As for the actual topic of conversation, I have been thinking a lot recently about why I seem to have no ability to take control of my life.  I consider myself to be relatively bright, I’m certainly driven and like getting good results from my activities.  But when it comes to me personally, I always lower the priority and absolutely NEVER push myself to do the things I should.

Take weight for example.  I’ve been trying to lose weight for several months now.  As a yo-yo dieter, I’ve lost stones and stones of the stuff in the past, but at the moment?  Just impossible.  More than that, how about exercise?  Oh, the gyms I have known.  And at times, I’ve even been fit.   But try to get off my unusually large, but tastefully formed bottom to join up has proved to be an act of goliathic (is that a word?) proportions.  Nearly as big a problem as my bottom come to think of it.  And consequently I’ve failed.  I even signed up to a sponsored thing to force me to do it.  Except now I’m staring down the barrel of a sponsored thing when I’m still fat and unfit.

I know that I have a weensy teensy tendency towards procrastination, but girls, this is ridiculous.  Don’t get me wrong, its not in every area of my life.  I hold down two busy jobs for goodness sakes.  I could do both of them better, don’t get me wrong, but I get a lot achieved in my life.  But when its me and its my personal stuff, I just don’t do it.  Even when I know I should and that I’m unhealthy.  I just can’t work out what is stopping me.  Even the thought of smaller dresses doesn't motivate me - after all, there are loads of camping shops around for me to buy new tents.  I can stay fat and just go to a camping shops instead of my usual FatgirlsRus shop.

So I guess what I’m asking for, nay, crying out for, is your insights into what you do to take control?  Telling me to woman up, get a grip and don’t be a fat lazy cow might be what you feel like say, but if you could be more constructive, please do so.  I wouldn’t want the fact that I’ve run to the toilet crying with a bottle of wine and a carrier bag of chocolate to rest on your conscience.  Plus that would mean your advice defeated its own purpose.  And that would be wrong.

Please help,

Fat of England x

I miss the sea

Odd place to start.  It  might seem vacuous, but it’s a theme of my life so far.  It’s always good to start with a metaphor I suppose.

The truth is I love the sea.  Sitting by it.  Staring at it.  Walking beside it.  Letting it lap against me.  Riding on it.  Smelling it.  Touching it.   Playing in it.  Swimming in it.  Feeling alive in it.

For the last 18 years, I have lived in a place where I couldn’t reach the sea easily.  In getting married and settling down, I sacrificed the thing in the world that I thought I could never live without.  Part of me went missing.  I replaced it with a happy family life and always felt I was happy, but there was always something missing.  My thoughts turned always to the sea.

Sacrificing what I really want in favour of what others want is one of the things I do best.  Its sad and I suspect I'm not alone, but its the story of my life.  Sometimes I kick myself and say that I should take control, that I should get my own way, that I should stand up for myself.  But at the end of the day, I want the people around me to be happy - even if its at the expense of my own happiness.  I'm no saint.  But whether its my wife, my kids, my friends, my boss, the people in my network, I genuinely want them to be happy.  So I try to fix it for them.  This includes sadly sometimes fixing me for them too.

This blog has already given me an insight I've never noticed about myself.  I am not the girl I want to be because I sacrifice my desire so that other people stay happy.

The question I want to explore here: can I still be Rhiannon or is it time to smile wryly and give up on another part of me.  Let it die a slow death.  To keep everyone happy with me, except me.