‘You’ve had a result, haven’t you?’ asked my dressmaker with a sigh – whether of admiration or exasperation I’m not sure.
I nodded excitedly and smiled. Days before my wedding, and my gown needed taking in again. Thanks to weeks of limited carbs and a brutal bridal boot camp offering courgetti bolognese for dinner, my weight had dropped to 8st 7lb.
At 30, and a size six provided I breathed in, I was thinner than I’d been since I was a teenager. My strapless dress showcased razor-sharp shoulders and collar bones that popped. I thought I looked fantastic.
Looking back at my wedding pictures 17 years later, however, I am conflicted. Underneath the spray tan, don’t I look slightly frail?
Now aged 47 and a mother of two, I’ve gained two dress sizes and one stone since then, a prospect that would make most women feel deflated, such is our collective obsession with staying skinny.
After all, a whippet-thin figure is even more sought-after today than it was when I married in 2009, thanks to social-media comparisons and weight-loss jabs.
Still, unlikely as it might sound, I believe I look better as a more average size ten. In fact, since gaining weight, I’ve received more compliments about my body than ever before.
The secret? Much of this extra weight is muscle. Instead of pipe-cleaner arms I have biceps; in the place of slender thighs, substantial quadriceps.
Antonia and husband Chris on their wedding day in 2009. ‘Part of my desire to look so thin for my wedding was to have tangible evidence of my discipline and self-control,’ she says
‘A whippet-thin figure is even more sought-after today, thanks to social-media comparisons and weight-loss jabs. Still, unlikely as it might sound, I believe I look better as a size ten,’ says Antonia
‘Wow, Toni, look at your arms,’ my friend said the other week. ‘Visible abs’, someone commented on a picture I posted on social media, followed by four ego-boosting fire emojis.
‘I think you always looked great, but I wouldn’t mess with you now,’ says my husband.
While I’m not proud of myself for admitting it, I wouldn’t feel as relaxed about my weight gain if the extra pounds were all fat.
I put as much effort into maintaining my figure as ever, albeit with far healthier results, and I can’t claim my current body comes without neuroses.
I think part of my desire to look so thin for my wedding was to have tangible evidence of my discipline and self-control. But the self-esteem I once derived from denying myself food now comes from getting up at dawn to do deadlifts.
For many, this might sound unattainably punishing. Persevere for long enough, however (not days or weeks but months and years), and it becomes a not always pleasant but eminently doable habit.
Like most mid-life women, the belief skinny equates to success was entrenched in me for decades. As a teen in the 90s, I got a buzz from feeling my hip bones and hearing my stomach growl.
As Sara Cox, who weighed 8st as a model in the 90s, put it in a recent interview, ‘I had what would now be described as “disordered eating”. But back then, in the early 90s, it was just seen as the norm. You smoked a lot of Marlboro Lights and survived on slimmer soups and coffee.’
Not that I was usually as thin as I was on my wedding day. In fact, most of the time I weighed the same as I do now (9st 7lb).
But constantly thinking about my weight meant I was constantly thinking of food. I binged on junk to blot out feelings of worthlessness and was rarely happy with the way I looked.
Which is probably why, when the prospect of being the centre of attention on my wedding day finally fuelled a ‘result’, I felt so proud. Saying no to chips long term wasn’t sustainable, however, and soon I was back in a cycle of beating myself up.
Then, in my mid-30s, I wrote a feature on regaining my pre-pregnancy body, for which I did strength training with personal trainer Zana Morris. For the first time, I stuck to a consistent weights regime for six weeks.
When I moved out of London aged 40 and relinquished my gym membership, I bought dumbbells and started lifting weights at home.
‘Over months, and years, the sight of my muscles developing has given me a quiet thrill. Now I lift weights for an hour, every other day,’ writes Antonia
Over months, and years, the sight of my muscles developing has given me a quiet thrill. Now I lift weights for an hour, every other day.
The changes to my body did feel strange at first. But the areas of my body that expanded – such as my arms and thighs – felt firmer and more powerful, while my stomach flattened.
My attitude to food has changed, too. Building muscle requires a balanced diet with plenty of protein, fibre and healthy fat.
I need three meals a day or I feel faint and I never deprive myself – I eat chocolate most evenings. As with everything in life, I’ve found when something is available, it automatically becomes less desirable.
But I’m more mindful of my sugar consumption now. Most importantly, I no longer use food to manage my emotions. If I’m stressed I’ll go for a walk or read a book instead of devouring a bar of Dairy Milk.
The health benefits of having muscle – stronger bones, better metabolism, improved posture, and so on – are well documented. But I don’t think there’s shame in finding it attractive too. Muscle gives my body better proportion and definition.
Most importantly, though, it reflects how I feel – more resilient and powerful. In mid-life, an age in which we’re in danger of becoming invisible, this seems more important than ever. Yes, I’ve gained weight, but with it, true body confidence.
Why would I ever want to disappear? I’m far happier, and healthier, taking up space.
