The Spanx and the pump and dump
The night that changed my life
Six years ago, the weekend before I started my (then anonymous) Instagram account, I went away for my sister's birthday. Emma was emotionally in a great place, she was confident, she felt good about herself, and wanted to celebrate. She organised a night out to a super swanky London restaurant for a small group of couples.
I, however, was not in a great place. I was breastfeeding, hormonal, struggling with my post-baby weight and I was finding it hard to feel good about myself. I was determined not to look frumpy or mumsy. I bought a bright, sexy, figure-hugging dress (in a size too small for my current weight), convincing myself that if I could squeeze myself into this dress.. I would feel good.
I did everything I thought I needed
I got a spray tan, painted my nails, blew out my hair, and I armed myself with a pair of super-strength tummy control Spanx.That night was meant to be so glamorous, fun, luxurious... but I felt so, so uncomfortable.
We started out at a popular celebrity champagne bar
By the time my second Bellini arrived, my enormous breastfeeding boobs were on the verge of exploding out of the top of my low-cut dress. Feeling them throbbing uncontrollably, I politely excused myself to the ladies' room. I locked myself in a very luxe black toilet cubicle, took down my top, and by hand... I started to PUMP and DUMP into the toilet. Yes... crouching over the porcelain bowl of an exclusive London hotspot; I milked myself like a cow.
To make matters worse, in my vain attempt not to get any of my milk on my new dress I ended up spraying milk all over the walls of the cubicle, the walls that were black, that showed every milky white drop in all its sparkly glistening glory. I spent the next ten minutes trying to buff the milk stains off the shiny lacquered walls with loo paper, as I was too embarrassed for the toilet attendant to see the mess I had made.
I hitched up my Spanx, readjusted my boobs back into my dress, and returned to the group. I had hoped once seated at dinner, I would be able to relax and finally enjoy myself. As it turns out, my tummy had other ideas. Ever-expanding from the heavy dinner, my belly was forcing the top of the Spanx to roll down, creating the most bizarre-looking bulges and cutting off my circulation. My super tight dress acted like a microscope, magnifying each and every lump and bump.
I was so self-conscious I spent the whole night sat at that dinner table with my coat on
Every now and then, during a break in conversation, James would lean over and whisper to me “take your coat off” but I just shook my head and wrapped my arms even tighter around my stomach. It was right then I decided I didn’t want to spend another second feeling uncomfortable and miserable in my own skin. That I would never ever wear another pair of Spanx and that I would never again, rely on a dress to make me feel good.
The very next day, I started my “fitness Instagram”
That journey has been wilder than I ever could have expected and 200k followers later, I have a newfound love for that f**king pair of Spanx. So, maybe it’s not the most profound story in the world, but it is the sequence of events that pushed me to take action, prioritise my wellbeing, and ultimately changed my life for good.
What about you? Do you have a day that changed your life completely? I’d love to hear it.
