When I was growing up I hated my body.
I, like lots of other girls, carried a few extra pounds (still do now), and used to hide under baggy jeans and t shirts. I was a tomboy. Backwards caps, BMXing and big baggy clothes were the norm (not much has changed actually, apart from swapping BMXing for mountain biking).
I avoided PE like the plague and only wore skirts and dresses when made to by my mum. I hated having my photo taken, so used to pull stupid faces – which of course made me look far worse than I ever could had I just smiled.
I lived in hoodies and jeans, even in the height of summer. If I took my hoodie or coat off, I’d sit with it laid across my legs, hiding my tummy, because I couldn’t let anyone see my belly. I didn’t ever wear flipflops or sandals until I was in my late teens/early 20s because I hated my feet.
Basically, me and my body weren’t mates.
Reading Festival 2002: we got the train up straight after picking up our GCSE results. You will never know how hot I was sat there in a fucking hoodie and jeans…