Puberty had hit me hard. My body wasn’t changing, it had changed – I just woke up one morning to find stretch marks and curves. I no longer looked like my friends, in fact I stuck out like a sore thumb.
Once my mum found me crying. I hated my body. I was fat. I held onto her and sobbed my little heart out. I may have had a womanly body, but I was still very much a child. She wanted to help, and so she did what she thought was best. She wrote out a “healthy eating plan” and explained the concept of energy in verses energy out.
It wasn’t a diet, or at least it wasn’t supposed to be. It was just a tool for me to manage my new body. To avoid further weight gain and maybe lose some of the new rolls that were making me so miserable.
My mum was a dietitian; she knew what she was doing. But she didn’t count on my obsessive nature. She didn’t know I would take that framework and twist it into something else.
– Cat Rodie