Day 435 – Who’s Up for A Challenge…Or Six?

Competition time from my lovely Cambridge consultant Mandy. She writes:

“Ok so we all have things that our weight/size stops us from doing. For me it was wearing trousers, which also meant I couldn’t take part in any activity that needed trousers like gym or exercise classes, on holiday walking through a rain forest (try that in a skirt) or fun things like zip wires. I wouldn’t have a massage because I felt too embarrassed by my size. I wouldn’t wear my hair up (fat face). I wouldn’t dance (which I love) unless the dance floor was packed. Otherwise people might see my flesh wobbling. And so on.
You must all have things you’d like to do or wear if only you felt better about yourself. So I want you to think hard and write down 6 things out of your comfort zone that you wish you could do. Send me the list. Then over the next 12 weeks I want you to send me photographic evidence of you doing each of those things. Could be change to your hair, belly button piercing, doing an exercise class, wearing emerging different. Be creative. Be honest.
Push your boundaries. Let’s go. Xx”

So…..my list. All are outside my comfort zone and not all weight related. Here goes…

comfort zone

1. Wearing sleeveless dress to dinner without a top to cover my enormously fat arms. Not sure this has actually ever happened in my adult life!

2. Life should not consist of maxis! Wearing a dress above knee showing my fat legs in front of anyone – beach wear does not count.

3. Wearing swim wear. I think I was about 127 kg last time I swam or used a steam room or sauna.


[Not fat shaming by posting this picture. Gotta admire these ladies for daring to wear bikinis!]

4. Wear a dress that has size 10 printed on it – stretchy is allowed, just want to fit into a size 10. This has never ever happened. Ever. I am currently wearing sizes 12/14, which blows my mind, probably more if I wore fitted clothes and I don’t.

5. Jump on the scale and see 83 point something kg. Would be so thrilled to do this in the next 12 weeks or rather 9 weeks as my two weeks’ break from Cambridge won’t count.

6. Having the confidence to go dancing on my own in front of strangers. Who needs a partner to dance?

dance like no one's watching

Two bonus challenges but I only need to do 6 but will aim for all 8.

7. Driving to Wimbledon to see my friends and God daughter. [This is an hour or so drive from me and given that a month ago, I had barely done 5 minutes drives for over 15 years, this is a real challenge.]

8. Driving to Bluewater again, this time, shopping and driving back. [See 7 above. Again, a challenge, with potentially motorway and dual carriage way driving]

If you wish to join me with any 6 challenges about any aspect of your life, drop me an email on chippingawaythefat@gmail.com, message me on Facebook or leave a comment here.

How will I do with my challenges? Check back on Monday 18th July to find out.

Let’s do this!

let's klck ass


Day 427: Get Thee Behind Me Divorce Grief

Tomorrow is my brother’s birthday.

Tomorrow is also exactly one year since my husband left our former marital home to pursue his affair with Mylien, a married Vietnamese mother of two, whose husband was living in Italy and who my husband met on an online dating website for singles.

Even before I found out about his four months affair, Mylien had allegedly broken up with him four times, because she didn’t like him remaining married, whilst married herself.

After I found out, she allegedly told him that if he left me, she would leave her husband. When I asked why she doesn’t leave her husband first, my ex said because they have two children.

Our marriage was easily dispensable to my ex because we didn’t have children. He conveniently forgot to tell her about his sperm issues and erectile dysfunction which resulted in 8 painful IVF, 2 miscarriages, my undergoing countless gruelling experimental treatment in our unsuccessful quest to have children.

My 11 year marriage and 14.5 years relationship ended with an email sent by my husband from a business trip in Singapore, informing me he wasn’t coming home.

Mylien remains (happily?) married to her husband.

I call my ex, my husband because a year after he left our former home and nearly a year after he rushed to file for divorce, one working day after his lawyer (same divorce law firm as his mistress Mylien’s sister Quyen) sent me an email, on our 11th wedding anniversary, informing me he wanted a divorce, celebrating with an expensive meal with Mylien the day after he filed for divorce, having secretly moved to a place 5 minutes from her home in Weybridge, as he sought to forge ahead with a new life where unbeknown to her husband, my ex was holidaying with his mistress and her children, as my life descended into chaos, untold grief and darkness, we remain married.

I do not know when the court case to settle our finances will end. The second court hearing, the FDR, which was meant to happen this April has been postponed as my ex failed to return a court mandated document. The hearing might be rescheduled for June, July or whenever the court has availabilities.

If this case doesn’t settle during that second hearing, it might drag on until a final trial at the end of the year or even early next year, when my husband and I cease to have any control over the settlement of our financial affairs and will surrender all power to a judge to settle our affairs as he deems fit. Given that the same judge would also decide whether we can appeal against his decision, it is an extremely foolish place to be and only 10% of divorcing spouses are stupid enough to go to a final trial. I am resigned that I might be one of those 10% through no fault of mine.

I have tried to settle amicably outside of court in mediation which my ex ended. I also made a settlement offer which he rejected and refused to make a counter offer.

I am resigned that the nightmare and uncertainties I continue to live in, ends when it ends.

A year after my husband left our former home, I wish I was writing a reflective post that celebrates the countless personal achievements that I have had in the past one year of being on my own and to celebrate the person that I am becoming.

Perhaps I could write about how having been driven around by men in the last 22 years, a year ago when my husband left, I had only driven 2 or 3 very short times in the previous three years and couldn’t even confidently drive 5 minutes to the supermarket.

And yet last week, and the week before that, I was this woman driving on the motorway.

No, as much as I would like to pat myself on the back, reflect on my year and say well done, I have had a tough few days and I have other things on my mind.

I am overwhelmed by grief and sadness that have resurfaced from nowhere. I had been doing so well lately…

It’s been a few days where my emotions have been all over the place. Where every little thing makes me cry. Where I wonder whether my life would ever be as carefree as it used to be, happy, smiley, secure, certain, where I felt like I had someone in my life who would stay with me forever, for better for worse, in sickness and in health, through tears and laughters, where there seemed to be a purpose, a life plan, security.

As I write this, with uncontrollable tears, I’m forcing myself to look at the bigger picture.

Yes, divorce sucks lemon and I’m not going to make lemonade as I really shouldn’t be having sugar. However, there is no situation in life that stays the same. This period of uncertainty will someday pass. The feeling that I am adrift, no one to call my own, alone, will pass.

I tell myself to make a list.

Lists make everything seem clearer. I like to have a plan. It’s good to have a plan. I have to make my lists of ways to change things that I have control over, improve things, tick off my list and keep going.

I miss my old life. 

OK, I’ve said it but I also know that my old life is a fiction. There is nothing to miss when it didn’t exist.

That old life was all a lie.

That smiling face, the conman’s smile, the infectious laughter, the daily I love yous, the daily phone calls, the hand holdings, they were all lies.

You don’t miss something that never really existed.

You don’t miss something that never was.

You don’t miss an illusion.

I shouldn’t miss my old life because there is nothing to miss. 

And therefore, I tell myself that life is what you make of it. There is no old life to think of, there is just the now.

And the now, is what I make of it.

I will scribble in my notebook, make plans and make things happen. 

I will ride this current wave of grief and sadness, and it will surely pass.

It has all gone wrong on the diet front. I had a few bad days some weeks ago, following some divorce upset and  I have struggled ever since to recover.

I am going to take a couple of weeks off Cambridge, recharge and I will get back to it in the middle of May and finally give myself the big kick up the arse I need to make sure nothing else ever comes between me and this diet.

I will not stop until I reach goal.

In the meantime, get thee behind me sucky divorce grief.