confession time: I been bad. Bad bad bad. Bad gurl. I've had a couple of binges over the weekend that I umm 'forgot' to mention. I've never really thought about it much, but I spose I've always had a problem with fits of binge eating. And then when I was stopping smoking, I gave myself permission to stuff my face instead of smoking. So far my subconscious has not cottoned on that that permission has been revoked.

The solution to my problems is unlikely to be found at the bottom of a family sized bag of fat'n'carbs, but part of me wants to keep looking just in case. So last night I decided to re-read my old copy of Fat is a Feminist Issue. Which is a slightly weird experience, it's so long since I read any 'feminist' literature, yet it felt like I spent the second half of the 80s reading little else. Also I don't seem to 'fit' into the model she's working with, I haven't spent most of my life on diets. Then again ... if you asked me if I'm happy with my body I'd probably say yes. But if I am, then why do I hate having my photo taken so much that I go out of my way to avoid it?

I do think it's probably right that we have to love ourselves as we are before we can successfully lose weight. If we hate ourselves (for whatever reason) and have been used to dealing with unhappiness and fear and all bad feelings by eating, then we can't ever lose weight successfully. Once I've finished FIAFA, I'll prob read Shelley Bovey's book (thanks Jude for telling me about her). So expect outbreaks of diet/feminist/well-meaning-gruaniad-reader politics from time to time, apologies in advance.