I wear trousers a lot, actually make that all the time. It’s not because I don’t like dresses or skirts, far from it. I’d love to get the chance to expose my legs but I’m very self conscious of them and not just because they resemble tree trunks the girth of those giant redwoods from North America. If only it was just that! You see, back in 2013 I developed an ulcer on one shin that started as a tiny spot and rapidly grew almost overnight. The doctor thought it was some type of cellulitis and ordered antibiotics and rest, but it wasn’t that and eventually I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder of the skin. To cut a long story short, it took nearly four long years to heal. It was bloody painful at times and I needed a shed load of painkillers to dull the burning pain that was always worse at night. I endured horrible dressings and for a short time had to wear these awful, awful sandals.A size four on my good side and a size seven on the grotty side. It was a perfectly hideous time and at times I could be a real cow. I was hurting and I was snappy and short tempered.

Then I met my practice nurse at my GP surgery who was the most caring and lovely person who did her darndest to help heal the ulcer and took into account that my self-esteem was important too and that wearing multiple layers of bandages that kept slipping and made me feel like crap wasn’t doing anything to curing the problem. The dermatologist did his bit by prescribing various drugs including the immunosuppressant that probably wiped out my immunity and lead to me almost kicking the bucket with pneumonia and pleurisy last year. But it was the dedication,skill and determination of my wonderful nurse that eventually healed the big bugger of a sore. The day the dressings stopped because there was nothing to left dress was one of the best days ever but being signed off from my amazing nurse’s care was also quite sad. We’d built up a great relationship and got to know each other really well. My appointments always ran over because we just couldn’t stop nattering.

The ulcer may be gone, but what’s left is quite a big discoloured area that I’m very aware of and if one unsightly leg wasn’t enough, I got hit on the other shin which left a large circular brown patch. I’m also supposed to wear these beautiful elasticated pop socks to reduce swelling but I’m rather naughty in the summer and “forget” to put them on as they are hot and stop me wearing my beloved flip flops. For three summers I couldn’t wear them so I’m jolly well going to wear them now even if my feet puff to the size of a small house. It’s one of my small pleasures in life!

So, back to the trouser thingy. I know trousers are practical and all that, but being a short little thing who has an ample posterior, non existent waist and giant redwood tree trunk legs, actually buying trousers is a complete and utter nightmare as nothing, and I really mean, nothing fits or looks right. I also can’t sew for toffee so when I take trouser hems up (and all my trousers need taking up) invariably they either fall down again in the first wash, or I take them up too far and look like a Bay City Roller in the trouser area. I really can’t be arsed to use a tape measure and hope for the best which is never,ever a good idea. I have considered buying three-quarter length trousers so I don’t have to bother with the whole sewing malarkey but I just end up looking wrong!

 

What to do? How does a small Weeble like woman look just a little stylish wearing trousers? Am I destined to a life of loose elasticated waisted slacks with added lycra, or worse still, track suit bottoms!!!!

I saw my sister yesterday. I love her to bits but how dare she be able to wear jeans, rolled up at the ankle, wearing plimsolls and look like one of those 50’s french starlets …at 57!!!!! I haven’t owned a pair of jeans for years and I want to own a pair and just look slightly ok in them. I’m never going to look like a starlet, I know my limitations but to not be the odd one out on a jeans day at school would be something.

Two weeks ago I told myself that if I were able to persuade Mr R to hop on a plane and have a holiday somewhere hot and by the sea, I would need to get my body beach ready well, well, well in advance. The work needed to achieve this goal is monumental but not impossible. Since that chat with myself I’ve cut out the sugary and salty snacks and cut down my portion sizes. Nothing is banned but treats are just that, a treat that is small, delicious and eaten on a Saturday evening. I’m not weighing myself and relying on my clothes feeling looser to judge if I’m losing weight. I tend to burn the candle at both ends and sleep for around five hours. I’m now going to bed earlier and am not feeling sleepy in the afternoon. I’m also making sure I drink plenty. It’s only been two weeks but I’m already feeling the benefits both physically and mentally. I might not look different yet, but I feel different. And do you know what? I’m not missing the snacks or large portions and I’m really enjoying myself. At the moment the only exercise I’m doing is my yoga, but I could swear that getting into a downward dog was just a little easier last week!

I’m hoping that one day I’ll feel confident enough to wear a dress or skirt again. Not care about my battle scars or find some way of camouflaging them. Maybe I’ll even get into jeans or slim fitting trousers. All this is achievable and right now I’m feeling very positive. I CAN DO THIS!