I Was Loved, But I Didn’t Love Myself

The school kids loved her, her husband loved her. The problem was, Kathy didn’t love herself.

I was walking down the corridor from one end when I saw a young boy approach from the other. Although there were plenty of room for him to pass, he flattened himself against a wall and said to his friend: “Watch out! Wide load coming through.”

I hid my bushing cheeks with my files and hurried past. Once I reached the safety of the staff room, I slammed the door behind me and muttered: 2How would he like it if I pointed out his faults?”

I was a teacher in a boy’s school and had put up with taunts about my weight. I didn’t see the point in telling them off- because their comments were true. I was morbidly obese. I’d been brought up on fried food, butter and lard. At nine years old I was referred to a dietician, who said: “This whole family needs to change to a healthier diet.”

My dad wouldn’t hear of it. He said: “I like things the way they are.” So Mum carried on frying food, and I grew bigger and bigger.

When I married my husband Steve, I was a size 26. My wedding gown looked like a tent and I joked to the guests: “I could have hosted the reception inside this thing. It’s like a marquee.” They smiled politely.

Steve and I settled into married life, and he never minded if I ate seven bags of crisps, or ten sandwiches in one go. In the six months after the wedding I put on seven stone. I couldn’t drive because I wasn’t able to fasten the seat belt over my tummy. In clothing stores, assistants said: “We don’t have anything in your size.” And at school the teasing was relentless.

I was a qualified teacher of business studies and computing, and taught pupils from 11 to 18.

The boys would laugh and say: “who at all the school dinners, Miss?”

I just wanted to hide. I turned 32 and was constantly out of breath and hot and sweaty. I had asthma, my periods had stopped and I became incontinent. I’d reached 32st 8lb.

One day Steve and I went out for a meal and a chair collapsed under me. I realised I could no longer ignore my weight problem- I was an intelligent woman with a teaching degree. I had a responsible role in preparing youngsters for the world outside. Yet I had such a disregard for myself. How could I inspire them to make something of their lives when I was throwing mine away?

Things had to change… I visited my doctor, he told me: “You need to lose weight. You’re a heart attack waiting to happen.”

I broke down sobbing.

“But I’m only 32,” I cried. “I don’t want to die.” He looked at me wearily.

“If you really mean that,” He said, “I’ll send you to an obesity clinic. They’ll be able to help you.”

I said: “I really do mean it.”

I went along and a consultant put me on a special liquid diet. One month later I had lost two stone. Over the next two years I lost 13 stone. It was wonderful, but the consultant still has concerns.

He said: “I’m worried that long term you’ll slip back into your old eating habits. Your best bet is surgery.”

I agreed to have a gastric band fitted. It wasn’t a quick solution. I still had to watch what I ate but the results were dramatic. By then I’d started teaching at another school. As I began slimming down, the pupils took a renewed interest in me. I would stride into class and they’d look up from their desks.

Then it started…

Miss, isn’t that a new look for you?

Are you doing something different, Miss?

I’d say: “No talking. Get back to your books.”

The next week there’d be more comments.

Are you shrinking, Miss? You’re getting smaller every day.

Around the staff room, other teachers peered over their textbooks to sneak a peak at me. However it was the children who were the most impressed, and as the term went by, something began to happen. They started asking for my advice.

One girl said: “Come on, Miss, tell us your secret.”

“Yes,” added another. “How do you look so good?”

In the end I decided to explain.

I began: “Well, before I would have chosen a cream cake over Brad Pitt any day of the week…”

They chuckled.

Then I said more seriously: “I’m not one of those fat people who say they don’t eat much, or have bad genes. I was fat because I at too much. Doughnuts, éclairs and sweets were my best friends.”

I explained about my upbringing and how I’d learnt to eat unhealthy food.

“I’m not blaming my parents,” I told the kids, “After all; I’ve been an adult for a long time.”

I told them about my diet and my gastric band

One girl said: “I’m going to have a gastric band, and then I’ll be able to eat whatever I want.”

I shook my head.

“It doesn’t work like that,” I explained. “My gastric band means I can only eat a few mouthfuls of food at any meal time. No more plates of chips for me.”

I continued: “I wish I had eaten fatty foods in moderation, then I’d still be able to enjoy them now.”

Another girl pointed to the celebrities in her magazine and said: “I want to be skinny like that.”

I told her: “People don’t look like that in real life. As long as you’re healthy, then you’re gorgeous the way you are.”

She smiled in approval and replied: “Miss, I think you deserve a gold star for what you’ve done.”

“Yes, Miss. I’m giving you a grade A.”

I carried on loosing weight, and soon I was 15 stone. My periods started again and at home in Dunstable, Bedfordshire, I said to Steve: “Perhaps we could think about having a baby.”

Now for the first time I feel like a role model. I can teach the children about achieving their goals. I have a purpose in life again.