No Fatties At The Wedding!

When the invitation landed on the doormat, my sister set me a challenge

- Frances Leate, Lucy Laing

Standing beside my sister Amanda, then 32, I tugged awkwardly at my blue dress.

A size 22, long and baggy, it was designed to hide a multitude of sins.

But it just wasn’t covering enough of my 18st 4lb frame.

It was June 2018 and we were at a friend’s wedding.

As we watched the bride and groom cut the cake, Amanda frowned.

I knew she was feeling just as uncomfortable in her flowery size-18 frock.

Over the years, we’d both struggled with our weight.

As soon as our mum Elizabeth, now 57, started giving us pocket money, we’d be off to the shops.

Filling our tums with sweets, chocolate.

Or we’d spend the lot down the chip shop.

We both loved food.

Since she’d had her boys – Rhys, then 8, and Ryan, 5 – Amanda had ballooned to 17st.

We both whipped up easy meals from a jar or out of packets.

I’d been on diets, tried cooking from scratch.

But since having Rebecca, then 10, and Elsie-Rose, 4, that had long been forgotten.

Only now, me and Amanda felt hideous among all the slim and glamorous guests.

We hadn’t bothered to buy new dresses, either.

Shopping for clothes was too depressing.

‘I just want to go home,’ I gulped later as we hovered by the DJ.

‘Never again,’ nodded Amanda, and we both sloped off early, too embarrassed to hit the dance floor.

Only, our cousin Euan, then 26, was getting married the following year.

All our extended family would be there.

When the ‘save the date’ card for his wedding came through the post weeks later, I shuddered.

It should’ve been a happy occasion, something to look forward to.