106 | JULY 2019 Women’s Health
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been; I’d sit at a desk all day
and eat economy pasta and
Breville-toasted sandwiches
every night. Looking back now
at pictures from that time, I’m
surprised by how big I was. But
I don’t remember my size ever
denting my self-esteem. I still
felt beautiful, just bigger.
I wasn’t immune to fads,
however. I moved to New York,
where I slurped cabbage soup,
lived on protein smoothies
and fasted. But these things
remained on the periphery of
my life, never shaping how I felt
about myself. I didn’t realise
how unusual that was until I
started talking to other women.
Intelligent, beautiful, successful
women who can’t look at
y mum threw the
javelin for England.
She has broad shoulders
and strong legs (which
I inherited) and a flat
stomach (which I didn’t).
I never saw her scrutinise her reflection
- food was fuel and a ‘good body’ was
one that could jump higher or throw
further. It meant that, from a young age,
I understood that a body that was strong
enough to do things was a body to prize.
My dad is a thickset Polish man who
was raised on food and love by his gorgeous,
equally stout immigrant mother. For him,
affection is a table groaning with food - I inherited this, too. But that wasn’t all
he gave me. One of the stories woven into
the fabric of our family is that he’d always
longed for a daughter – one with blonde
hair and blue eyes. When I came along,
he was smitten, and he’s spent 42 years
telling me just how much.
I’m telling you this because the way
in which both my parents raised me has
been fundamental to the formation of the
self-esteem that I hold dear today. The
enduring messages of my childhood were
that I was strong and beautiful. I don’t
think they could have armed me with
a more empowering self-belief.
However, my relationship with my body
hasn’t always been an easy one. Puberty
hit around the same time that my parents
separated. I was knocked sideways by both.
I ended up living with my dad, and I was as
despairing of my large breasts as I was about
the fact that my mum wasn’t there to take
me bra shopping. As a teenager, I used my
body to win the affection of boys, convinced
that my personality alone wouldn’t cut it.
When a one-night stand on a cheap Spanish
holiday told me that I had an ‘hour and a
half glass’ figure, I took it as a compliment
and started using it as a chat-up line on
other boys. After I got my first scantly paid
office job, I became the heaviest I’d ever
Sarah, 42, is Editor of Red
SARAH TOMCZAK
‘Having children
has only
cemented my
appreciation
for my body’
Sarah, aged 10