I’m of average height.
I’m a healthy weight.
Thanks to 18 months sort of following a weight watching plan, there is less of me than there used to be, but I’ll never be of a slender build.
I’m sort of sturdy; a fine lump.
I’m mostly pear shaped, with short, strong legs. I envy people with long legs even more than I envy people with cheekbones.
The world is full of people this shape, people who look longingly in shoe shop windows at knee length boots. And then move on.
Away from the boots. Away from the humiliation of not being able to get the boots past their ankles. Away from the bruises caused by squashed calves. Away from bulging knees.
People, I have news!
Exciting for me news! Confidence boosting news! News that makes all the weeks of ‘on a bit, off a bit, on a bit’ weight changes worthwhile.
I walked into a shoe shop. I tried on a pair of boots*. They zipped up. I could walk. My legs looked less dumpy and scruffy. That’s never happened before in my whole adult life.
Reader, I bought them.
*yes, I do mean wide fitting boots with elastic at the back; I’m taking what I can get here!