Brushing a pile of hair to the corner of the salon floor, I propped the brush against the wall.
‘Lunchtime now then,’ I announced to my colleagues.
It was 2006 and, at the age of 16, I’d bagged myself an apprenticeship at a hairdresser’s. Every day was hectic.
But I always had something to look forward to – my lunch break.
A chippy, Indian takeaway and sweet shop all round the corner, I was spoilt for choice.
‘Fish and chips today, I smiled to myself as I walked out the door.
Even grabbed a few snacks for the afternoon slump, too.
But, over the next few years, it meant I really piled on the pounds.
By the time I turned 18, on New Year’s Day 2008, I was a size 18.
Bigger than all my pals.
I have to admit, I was used to that.
As a child, I’d always been the one to finish up the leftovers.
And now, as an adult, I just continued to get bigger and bigger.
By May 2008, standing at 5ft 7in, I was 18st 2lb and a size 20.
‘I’ve just had a gastric band fitted,’ a family friend proudly told me soon after.
‘It’s not a big op, maybe you should look into it.’
It’s the quick fix I need, I thought to myself.
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