Is it a whale or cow, No, it’s just my wife…

That’s how I felt my husband deep down thought of me…After all, he would have been right, I was a beached whale. Yep, it’s true. You could spot me from a mile away on that sand – I was three times the size of anyone else. I’m talking about my latest holiday, a year ago, when I went to Spain.

Thankfully, beaches aren’t like they are in the movies. I mean there’s still sand, blue water and a bunch of cafes but not everyone is golden and skinny. Well, that’s what I thought. I went to Spain with my husband and kids and we strolled down to the beach on the Costa del Sol on a very hot day. We rented parasols and loungers and I was quite content – until I noticed them. The local Spanish girls were exactly like they are in the movies. Tanned, thin and not a shred of cellulite. Me on the other hand, I was covered in cellulite. I was lumpy like my mother’s mashed potato.

I couldn’t take my eyes off these women. I think my husband at one point thought I was having a lesbian moment. I scanned the beach to see if there was anyone else like me. The Brits you can spot from a mile off too – they’re very, very white with a pink tinge. I saw some lovely fit British men and equally fit British women but there were some chubbies too. The problem was, not a single burnt chubby Brit was as big or pink as me. I was the fat one in the movies that provides the gross-out humour. I had the decency not to wear a bikini but even in my trusted swimming costume, I looked like a tub of lard.

I covered myself with a towel and got back to reading on my Kindle, pretending not to notice the sun-kissed Spanish women that seemed to be invading the nearby sun loungers.

After that holiday, I said to myself I wouldn’t ever go to another beach until I lost some weight. My husband of course was being all supportive saying things like ‘but I love you just the way you are’. ‘Rubbish!’ I thought. You like my fat thighs but you don’t like my perfume? (It’s Chanel. Who doesn’t like Chanel?). I had to lose weight. I really liked beaches, but I was far too uncomfortable with anything that involved stripping off into a skin-tight onesie.

I had hypnotherapy for weight loss and it helped me lose three stone. It changed the way I ate, quite simply. I didn’t need to diet or deny myself anything, I simply just stopped craving the crisps and the burgers and instead I wanted the fish and the broccoli. I don’t even like broccoli.

I’m writing this on a lovely beach in Corfu surrounded by Greek beauties. I’m not embarrassed anymore. Hypnosis for weight loss saved me. There’s no whale on this beach.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

clearPost Comment