For a while now, I have been teetering dangerously (ooh er) on the edge of being a healthy weight and being, dare I say it, over weight. My weight has stayed steady for a couple of years now and sure there have been times when I've wished I could shed a few pounds, there have also been times when I have shed a few pounds and there have been even more times when I've put a few on. But that's how my body goes and we get through it together and carry on on our merry little way.
Until today that is when a great big, fat, over weight bomb was dropped on us, my body and I. So, this is what happened..
I went to see the nurse over a pesky cough I've had for ages and so she took my blood pressure like a good nurse should, asked me my height and to then step onto the scales. My blood pressure was fine, my height is below average but I've known this for a while and my weight...well, my weight went a little something like this:
Nurse takes weight measurement. Nurse takes BMI chart. Nurse looks at weight in correspondence to height and then looks confused. Nurse looks at me confused, wrinkles her brow, then shakes her head and looks at re-aligning her measurements on the chart again. And then comes the talk I've been waiting for, the one that I know the scales have been trying to tell me for a long while now, "For the love of God Melita, just put that doughnut down and stop stuffing your face already. Can't you feel us crumpling under your chubby, blubbery mass? Can't you see the needle spinning countless times, around and around, for crying out loud just STOP EATING! We judge you Melita, we judge you." Reality?
Nurse, "Erm, Miss Kiely, it says on this chart that you are over weight as your BMI is slightly over 25". Oh god, the words I had been dreading and preparing a speech along the lines of, 'BUT I'M ONLY A SIZE 10 AND A SIZE 8 ON A GOOD DAY, IN A GOOD SHOP! HOW CAN THIS BE?'
But I needn't have prepared such a speech because before I had the chance to exclaim such confusion and outrage she threw her chart aside and cried, "But screw the chart. I am looking at you now and you, my dear, are not over weight!" And then we laughed and did a happy dance and slagged off the ridiculous chart that claims that somebody who is a size 10 and a size 8 on a good day, in a good shop is over weight. We slammed down our fury at a chart that embeds insecurities into so many young women and men (hey boys, we know you feel it too) when it does not take into account muscle to fat ratios, whether you exercise or smoke or drink or do drugs.
And d'ya know what, I could have kissed that nurse today (Sandra, I think her name was) for throwing that chart aside and telling me to ignore it and that I was not overweight and that in fact, I was pretty damn healthy. And I could punch you in the face Mr maker of BMI charts, because fuck it; I am fine exactly how I am.

I was a shy little bean when I went to uni, like, silly shy. The idea of meeting new people and having to talk to them scared the life out of me. It made me feel physically sick and as if I would burst into tears at any moment. The first few weeks at uni were a scary experience and I wish I had had the advice and encouragement to enjoy the very first experience more and not be so worried or nervous. It took me at least a month to find my feet and pluck up the courage to really embrace student life, so I am writing this post for anybody who might be as nervous as my 18 year old self was in those first few instances.
The hype and promise from my students that Italy was all things wonderful only lead to ever increasing excitement and anticipation for our trip. After a short two and a half hour sleep, we awoke at 2:30am ready to depart for the airport. A sleepy Stansted greeted us and a short flight later, we stepped off the plane to be welcomed by Italy's morning heat. A swift 40 minute coach ride to Rome's city centre and we were well on our way to getting our holiday started!





