Girls On Film.

mogletdeluxe
mogletdeluxe Posts: 623 Member
edited December 2024 in Success Stories
Non-scale victories. How I’ve come to love you since the needle has stubbornly stuck… ;)

You could never accuse me of being camera-shy. I’m always the one doing the cheesy two-thumbs-up outside funnily-named shops, or trying to make it look like I’m balancing a landmark in the palm of my hand (I know, I know, I’m SO cool. Don’t even pretend).

But larking around in front of the camera, back when I was big, was all a bit of an act. Yes, I was still having fun, but come and talk to me the next morning when I was slyly detagging photos on Facebook (God bless you, Zuckerberg. I can overlook ALL kinds of privacy infringement to appreciate the detag function), a bit shocked that that girl was me. Jeez, that’s what I looked like. And I’d push it back to my mind with that sick feeling in my stomach and ignore it, silently despairing. “It’s just a bad photo” only washes for so long.

Cut to last night. After my regular Sunday night zumba class, our instructor decided that she wanted to get some cheap and cheerful footage of us carrying out the routines so people could get an idea of the kind of exercises executed in her class. She asked me and a few of the girls if we’d be happy to be filmed, and I happily agreed. I casually tried to forget the fact, however, that I was dripping with sweat and rather scarlet in the face. Never mind, it adds character, right?

Anyway. Three routines later, I near-enough limped home and curled up with my hot chocolate. Sneaky peek on Facebook before bed, I thought. Log that Options Vanilla on MFP. You know, the usual.

‘So-and-so tagged you in a post’. Anyone else get that slight anxiety when you’re not expecting to be tagged in a post? What’s been on the web when I wasn’t aware? OH GOD.

There were the videos, and I felt that twinge in my gut. Oh God, what would I look like? I had the slightly tighter black vest on last night, oh GOD. My pooch* is totally going to be showing. Ugh God**, I’ve been shaking my stuff like I should have notes stuffed down my thong and call myself Candy, things are going to jiggle like jelly on a plate.

My eyes scanned the row of girls. Aww, don’t they all look lovely, look at us all in black! Nice coincidence there, girls. Like a Zumstapo. And then it hit me.

I had actually scanned over myself. There I was, third from left, all big smiles and snake hips. And…well, not fat (I can’t bring myself to describe my body as “thin”, partly because it’s not and partly because…well. That’s just weird). I wasn’t “the fat one” in the crowd. There I was, having fun, shaking my thing, and looking just like everybody else. Something people would strive to avoid, you would think. But not me. Not when it comes to my weight.

Last night, I blended into a crowd. And I couldn’t have been happier.




* nothing rude, just what I call my leftover bellyflab.

** I blaspheme a lot, don't I? Sorry :(

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