The Breakfast Table Autopsy

Hello Escritori,

We went to the first wedding of this year at the weekend and it was lovely.

Unfortunately I still couldn’t look at pictures of myself without despairing. I’m very petite and fourteen pounds heavier than the higher end of the average for my height. This is not so big a stretch to correct with a few tweaks to routine as I love walking, do weights and floor exercises about once or twice a week and keep trying to get back on the run.. but maintaining that seems tough.

Part of me doesn’t want to go beyond just keeping moving on a basic level because my good curves shrink too. It’s a struggle being short and curvy because any addition shows so much more. Part of me dreads being labelled ‘the fat bride’ and that’s not even on the horizon.


Mary 2 and 3 have the benefit of a little extra height and one of them is a size zero. However my Mum has spent most of my life lording me as the prettiest. In order to not have a head the size of Colombia, inflated by my mother since the age of three, I’ve tried to privilege my intellect at every turn… People, I feel like a 4 most of the time if you’re bothered about leagues and all that (you shouldn’t be, says my better voice.)

I felt really great and that I looked quite nice yesterday, then inevitably after the “breakfast table autopsy” (talking about the particulars of the night before) came the “photo line up review” in which, of course, as usual, next to my sisters I looked super-wide. Definitely pretty, but wide. I disliked that I FELT great, but looked apparently not so… how does that work? I was all sparkly and smiley. Am I focusing on the wrong thing?

Probably, but I wish I could switch it off.


To greater or lesser degrees I’ve always struggled with this, but usually any really unhealthy thinking and behaviour has been linked to self-denial for reasons of buying myself more time in my academic phase, not some stupid supermodel expectation. Out of that intense phase however I realise how terrible that was on a holistic level for my health. I love eating a rainbow of good food.

Truly I can’t be the only one to have to CONSCIOUSLY re-angle my self-talk in order to not end up becoming my own worst enemy… I do generally just vow to save myself the aggravation over things no one else sees by not looking at photos… To hold on to the invincible good feeling of the moment without any physical limitations or criticisms. As March waned, I woke up most mornings generally padding barefoot to the mirror like:

Woah. Hello… Killing it!

I will only ever chase good health, the rest is just vanity. Good things, small packages and plenty of it. No complaints.

Keep scribbling,

~ Pola ~



5 thoughts on “The Breakfast Table Autopsy

  1. Hard not to compare yourself to your sisters, but perhaps they’re envious of you being so pretty.
    I’ve never been skinny, always had knock knees and hips that could get wedged in narrow doorways. You do get used to yourself as you age, though that in itself brings permanent dark circles round the eyes, that face sag that can make you look eternally grumpy and slightly mannish. Smash all mirrors, that’s what I say 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haha, yeah fully intend to… just giving a bit of a rein to my teenage self I suppose. They were envious as well… didn’t find this out for years. And yeah, my hips always bump the dining table, far less now than at fifteen where I learned belly dance to do something constructive with the damn things.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. We all have things we like about ourselves and things we don’t.Coming to terms is the main thing – in reality our differences are neither good nor bad, just different 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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