My lovely, but brutally honest, Nanna used to tell me I had Williams legs (which apparently was some family curse that skipped a few generations because both my Nanna and my Mam have the skinniest little legs).
I wore skirts in school and I wear dresses pretty much every day. For a while, the only trousers I ever wore were pajama ones.
I then got my job as an Asbestos Analyst. Dresses weren't really appropriate wear for construction sites so my Mam offered to come shopping with me. Cue a 24 year old having a tantrum and crying in H&M because I couldn't wriggle any jeans over my knees, never mind my chunky thighs. Poor Mam, I think she was as traumatised as me; now that I'm thinking about it, I don't think she's offered to come on another shopping trip since.
Thanks to the lovely blogging community, I've learnt some little hacks to attempt to keep chub rub at bay, I probably wouldn't have survived my holiday last summer without bandelettes but I wanted to look at my own thighs and think that they were beautiful. (I bought mine on eBay from Mish_Outlet: http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/New-Bandelettes-Nude-Anti-Chafing-Lace-Thigh-Bands-21-32-/310971860322 but there are loads of sellers and websites out there).
It's taken me a while, and this probably isn't the most conventional way of learning to love something about you, but my tattoos really make me feel beautiful. HAVING CHUNKY THIGHS MEANS WAY MORE SKIN WHICH MEANS WAY MORE AVAILABLE PLACES TO COLOUR IN.
In case anyone is curious, the left is by Jody Dawber and the right by Paula Castle.
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