From Thigh-gap Obsessed To Daring Confidence On The Beach

Something felt different this time and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I felt nourished in a way I rarely do following a holiday.

My body felt stronger somehow.

I recalled holidays from a few years back. The ones where I’d wrap my sarong tightly around my body. Where I’d run from the lounger into the pool making sure nobody really saw my flesh.

Holidays where I’d make excuses not to swim — on my period or I hurt my shoulder — any excuse to not jump in the ocean.

Where I’d suck my stomach in as far as possible as I legged it from the point of dropping my sarong to jumping in the pool.

I’d ignore my kids’ requests to swim.

Always saying I wanted to read more, that I was right in the middle of a good bit.

The less I could have my body on display the better.

Something had changed this year. Somehow I felt more at ease in my body.

It’s about 4 years since I fully recovered from my latest eating disorder and since then, I’ve retrained as an eating disorder recovery coach. This has taken a lot of personal work, a lot of which has been working on my body image.

I had no idea that hating having my photo taken was my eating disorder talking.

Or obsessing about my (non-existent) thigh gap was my eating disorder talking.

Or saying no to swimming with my kids was my eating disorder talking.

I would also feel extremely stressed during mealtimes on holiday — having food abundantly available at the buffet. Or over-ordering during dinner. Or much bigger plates of food — with the temptation that I might finish a whole plate.

I would worry about eating carbs, or not having access to gluten-free or dairy-free or whatever the latest health fad I was following.

I stressed about sugar, being given free desserts, or not being able to eat as many vegetables as I’d like. Not having salad as a meal option.

Most of my holiday was spent either worrying about what I would eat, how much I was eating and how “off track” I was; OR worrying about how my body looked — was I bloated? How did I look in that photo? Would someone get a glimpse of my grotesque stomach if I wore a bikini? Was I larger than the other women on the sun-loungers next to me?

Constant internal chatter all day long.

No wonder I never came back from holidays feeling refreshed. It was a mental onslaught. My brain never switched off.

So what was different this time?

I barely thought about food.

I ate pretty much what I wanted, when I wanted. And weirdly this meant I probably ate less than on previous holidays — because I was tuning in and listening to my body. Eating mindfully. Enjoying the experience.

I also felt more confident in my body.

Or perhaps it’s just that I felt neutral about my body. I care less about what my body looks like than I used to.

I certainly care less about what others think of my body than I used to.

All of this meant that I moved my body way more this holiday.

I swam a LOT.

I stayed in the ocean for several hours [rather than a cursory 10 mins because I was being begged by the kids].

I jumped in waves. I swam lengths — lots of lengths.

I put my face underwater and swam proper front crawl [rather than only doing head-above-water-breakstroke]. I did some butterfly.

My arms and lats felt tired. That contented-because-I-moved-my-body kind of tired.

My brain switched off.

I stopped checking social media and emails. And because I wasn’t constantly thinking about food or how I looked, I returned home feeling refreshed.

I read books and properly got into them — rather than that stop-start type of reading where anxious thoughts consume your mind so you can never really go deep. I went deep and it was a beautiful thing.

Because I’ve finally recovered from over 20 years of disordered eating, my holidays are rejuvenating.

And that’s why I felt contented on the plane.