The Ruby Knight Chronicles

Today was a fat day. I woke up feeling fat. Every item of clothing that wasn't washing felt uncomfortable on. All my photos from today made me look fat. I felt guilty every time I ate. I kept catching myself holding my tummy like a pregnant chick does with her baby bump so it's pretty obvious that even my self conscious is feeling fat. Wednesday was brought to Ruby by the word 'fat'. Arghhh! Mos t of the time, my weight doesn't bother me. Of course I'd like to have the rest of Scarlett Johansson's body (it's fine Scar, I've got the tits part covered, you're good) but that isn't gonna happen until I'm settled in Aussie and joined up at a gym again. I told myself that my last fortnight in NZ would be worryfree but today just had to go and ruin that. Even when you're a confident curvy mamacita with zero fucks to give, sometimes fucks find you and then they make you give them. So you feel fat. And then fat overcomes you. And all o...

Minutes after this photo, I was throwing up my dinner in the toilet. All my life, I've felt like the ugly duckling. And a big part of the reason behind that was being curvier than the other girls. In my mind, curvy meant chubby, and chubby was the opposite of sexy and beautiful. So I did everything possible to try to change the size and shape of my body, including some things I'm now horrified t o admit I ever did. Like binging and purging. I love food. I love how food can bring people together and for someone that's felt incredibly lonely all their life, food became not only a vital social activity, but eventually a mistaken form of comfort. It got to the point where I'd eat when I was sad, angry, celebrating, commiserating, for any reason whatsoever. The weight piled on along with the depression. I had to do something, drastic. Rather than taking away my comfort, I continued to eat, but I'd literally eat myself to the point of feeling sick. The first time ...