When is a compliment not a compliment?

Three years ago, this is how I looked.  I knew I was fat! Blind Freddie could see that.  This suit was a size 22 and only fitted due to it having an elastic waistband.

Nobody said anything.

I'm sure if I smoked someone would have said "Give those things up they are killing you", and I'm equally sure if I drank someone would have said "You've had enough".

They are the obvious drugs, the obvious addictions. Food isn't!  Everybody eats, everybody loves food.  So, it's OK not to say anything.

Partly that's because fat people are perceived as weak, so you don't say anything to hurt their feelings.  You don't even use the word fat!

Over the years I used to groan when someone said "Oh you're looking well!"  To me, Well equalled Fat.  Maybe they did think I was looking well, or maybe they just didn't want to screech "Oh My God You are Huge!"

Either way, people were nice.  They loved being around because I think I made them feel better about themselves. They felt secure they weren't as big as me for starters.

I thought I was healthy too, I could walk, although I lied to myself and said I parked close to shops because I was in a hurry, not because I was too fat to walk far!  I ate well in front of people, and terribly on my own.  A closet drunk if you will.

Then on Black Friday in December 2013, part of my world collapsed.  My soul mate died.  Not my husband, he's the love of my life, my greatest supporter, and the best man in the world. No, this was someone who came into my life when I was young, who got me over the hurdles, who I loved in a different way, but who meant everything to me. What he really died of was his weight which had been high all his life.  So had mine.

So his life had gone, and I had to do something. He made me do it.  His strength and his spirit kicked in and told me in no uncertain terms that I had to get my act together!  I did.  I approached my doctor and arranged a gastric sleeve operation.  I told the surgeon I would be his star patient, and I would amaze him.  I knew I had my guardian angel riding with me.

Success?  Yes!  Totally, unbelievably successful.  73 kilograms gone.  Half a metre off my vital measurements gone.  Half a shoe size gone.  Watch band fittings gone.  Jewellry resized.  Wearing a size of clothes I had never dreamt of.                                                    

                   Size 12 and you could have seen a tictac hiding

Then I started noticing it. 

"Skinny Bitch" 

"Skinny Minny"

Yes it was meant with no malice, but when you are busy and you see lots and lots of people and you hear this multiple times a day, it's not funny.  I knew they meant it as a compliment, but it didn't feel like one.  Nobody ever said "Fat Bitch" and laughed!

One even said "I'm not going to be the fat one" and continued to decrease contact with me over the time that I lost weight.  Was I simply a large handbag that hid attention from their own weight issues?  If so, then my friendship & personality obviously didn't mean a lot.  I'm OK with that, as other people's issues are their issues.  I learned a long time ago not to be a porter.  I don't carry other people's baggage.

I am happy, I am healthy

I miss my dear friend but I know he'd be proud of me.

I am trying to learn that name calling can be a compliment, but that one is taking some time.