Hello! I’m Anne Marie Miles, and today, I want to share something close to my heart: my journey as a “larger lady.” For much of my life, I’ve carried extra weight, and it’s been a mix of challenges, humour, and hard truths. Some days, I shrugged it off; other days, it weighed heavily on my mind and body. But one thing is clear—acknowledging how I felt about it was a huge relief.
For years, I told myself I didn’t care about the size of my body. Yet deep down, I wasn’t happy. I pretended not to notice or care, but the reality was different. Even admitting now that I didn’t like being that big feels liberating. I’m not striving for a size zero—I’ve never been small, even as a child—but I dream of being healthy and comfortable in my own skin.
I’ll never forget a triumphant moment during a visit to my local nurse. While discussing something with the doctor, she referred to me as “a little bit overweight.” I could’ve danced out of the surgery (if I hadn’t been trouser-less at the time). For someone who’d always been labelled “very overweight,” those words felt like a victory.
Looking back, life as a larger person was tough. In school, I faced bullying—cruel taunts about my size left me feeling excluded. Secondary school brought more confidence, partly because my dad worked as the caretaker. Having family nearby helped, though I envied the “skinny girls” who looked flawless in their uniforms. I, on the other hand, battled with ill-fitting clothes and self-consciousness.
The struggle didn’t stop there. Shopping for a wedding dress was a unique challenge. Twenty years ago, options for plus-size brides were sparse. One shop I visited had hundreds of dresses, but only three in my size. One was so stiff with boning that it stood upright after I stepped out of it! Another felt like it could double as a marquee.
Then there was the bridal shop assistant who, despite her best intentions, fumbled through a sales pitch that included phrases like “larger lady” and “made to measure” with increasing panic. We both ended the encounter flustered and on the verge of tears. Thankfully, I eventually found a beautiful custom-made dress, but that journey left a mark.
Over the years, I stopped looking in mirrors, avoiding seeing what I’d become. A photo from a farewell church service was a turning point. Seeing my full profile shocked me. I realised this is what others saw and why they gently encouraged me to take care of myself. That photo wasn’t just a wake-up call; it was a mirror to the changes I needed to make.
Now, while I’m still on my journey, I no longer need an extra seatbelt on planes or shop in the very largest sizes. The physical weight I’ve lost has lifted an emotional burden too. Admitting I wasn’t happy and taking steps to change has been empowering.
If you feel stuck or frustrated with your body, know that you’re not alone. It’s okay to say, “I don’t want this anymore.” Acknowledging those feelings is a powerful first step. If you need someone to share that with, I’m here. You can message me anonymously, and I’ll listen without judgment.
This journey isn’t about perfection; it’s about finding freedom. Let’s embrace that together.
