This blog was initially started as a commentary on beauty standards within society.  And it still pretty much is. What started as a blog about my face has now morphed into a blog about my body as a whole, and how I navigate it in what sometimes seems like an overly superficial world. I say sometimes because there is also a lot of body positivity out there too these days, trying to combat the enslaught of negativity. I would like to contribute to the positive side of things, not the negative. But I’m not so sure I always do.

I started to write and publish this blog about 2 years ago, but like a lot of things in my life, I did not finish what I started. Instead I got scared and self conscious, self analytical and questioned myself to the point where I stopped. And the bloody thing was supposed to be about instilling confidence, albeit body confidence, in myself and others. Such is life, and I know I am far from unique in this regard.

My behaviours when it comes to writing, also apply to healthy eating and exercise. While my diet at times can be better than most, it can also be…very much not. Too much booze, too much junkfood, too much, munchiness. Mmm munchy…okay. Back to it.

I am a vegetarian, and I was a vegan (pretty much) for about a year, and I have still cut back a fair bit on my dairy intake. I am aware of healthy eating and it’s benefits. But I do like the unhealthy stuff too, a lot, and I like to enjoy it and take pleasure in life and not deny myself too much. Life is hard enough right?

My relationship with exercise could easily be compared to that of my writing. Going through periods of doing more and less, vaguely trying to remain healthy while having a tumultuous relationship with it. Part of me wants to do it, another part of me wants to lie around watching Netflix in my pants, coated in Dorito crumbs. So sometimes I would do it, sometimes not. And now, I really don’t do it at all, and apart from a couple of times when I’ve gone swimming or playing badminton with friends, or transporting myself from one place to another using my legs, I have barely exercised in years. This has led to me gaining weight, feeling less confident in myself, and it has also led to me questioning my relationship with exercise, and think about the reasons for my issues with it (of which it turns out there are many!) Let’s face it, I’ve had a lot of time to just sit, and ponder (when I’m not watching Netflix or staring blankly into the abyss, or thinking about what to eat next).

What I have realised is that not only do I have multifaceted reasons for my fear of exercise, but that a lot of people have similar feelings. Add to this the reasonably drastic change in our society – a society that has become increasingly more obsessed with healthy eating and exercise. It’s hard to avoid this new facet of society, and therefore it has led me, self proclaimed semi-couch potato, to question it and think about how it connects to my own feelings and insecurities about it.

As ever, with anything I write about I am trying to use my extensive, meandering inner thoughts in order to possibly make someone, somewhere, anywhere feel better, or less alone. Even if that person is me, I feel like it’s a win.

So there are two things (among many) that I have wanted to do for the last few years – sort out my issues with exercise and lose some weight, and write. I had the idea to combine the two, hoping one would spurn the other on. So, as I try to pull my increasingly lumpy body out of the comfy yet scary sofa of my mind (a scary mind sofa, if you will) I thought I’d also write about my experiences and insecurities in the hope of not only inspiring others but also understanding myself and possibly forming new, healthier habits.

Typically, I’ve written and talked a fair bit around this topic, but have yet to really bother doing any exercise. Truthfully, as I write this I am sitting in a pub drinking a glass of Sauvingnon Blanc and nibbling on a grab bag of Doritos. But I’m writing, so I’m doing one of the things. I’M DOING A THING, ALRIGHT?