I Ripped My Jeans: A Lesson in Humility
When watching those documentaries where people have put on so much weight that they have had to be cut out of their houses by the emergency services, I have had so many conversations where I have debated: how do people let themselves get to that stage? Surely there has to be a point BEFORE then? Perhaps when they have had to go up a clothes size? When they can't ride a roller-coaster? Or when they have to buy two plane seats? How do they let it get to that stage and at what point does someone realise that enough is enough? I had my "getting cut out of my house by the firemen" moment last week: I ripped my jeans (well, they were really my favourite White Stuff jeggings but let's not get bogged down in semantics). I had been in denial for weeks. I could feel the painful 'tug' that was hinting at was about to come. But just like the guy who was finding it harder and harder to get out of the house each day until one day he couldn't anymore, I pretended it ...