Reading · My Goodness! From Jo Elvin

A few things that have made their way into my face in the last couple of weeks: Excellent onion bhaji at Jikoni restaurant, at a gorgeous lunch for the brand Pink City Prints; pieces of lamb on humous at The Guards Polo Club, Windsor; quick energy rush of choc buttons backstage at Winchester Books Festival; A recipe from Dominique Luwdwig’s No Nonsense Nutrition; Cheeky Nando’s in Leeds; smoked salmon at Salon Prive, Chelsea as a guest of Gatineau.

One of the startling things about getting older is that you have to re-learn some things about your very own body as you travel in it through the years. I remember discussing with a doctor once that my menstrual cycle had become erratic and saying, ‘I don’t get it, this never happens to me.’ And he said, ‘Well you’ve never been 40 before.’ It was one of those ‘punch in the face’ reality checks: Ohhhh… I’m going to get old, just like everybody else.

And so, it occurred to me a couple of years ago that I was a little bit behind with re-learning how to live in this body, now that she’s in her 50s.

For years - decades to be honest - my body was something that brought me embarrassment and shame. And I’m ashamed to say that. I feel really sorry and stupid about all the years I wasted hiding myself away in baggy clothes, denying myself the freedom of swimming in the sea or wearing shorts in summer, all because I believed that my skinny frame was ugly. As I’ve written about before, a lot of people used to tell me that. But to be a woman is to be bombarded, relentlessly, with comments about your weight, your shape. Everything about your face and body. In my case, for many years my body shape was supposedly the embodiment of the cultural ideal: ie, thin. But I was exceptionally skinny and that attracted as much ridicule and judgement as anyone else’s less than perfect frame.

My mum used to tell me I had a fast metabolism - calories seemed to burn on impact. All through my childhood and teens and then into my 20s and 30s, I could eat garbage, all day long, 24/7 and never put on weight. Sounds like a dream to many, but it didn’t mean I had any body confidence. And funnily enough I was always getting sick.

I was in my late 30s when I started to be OK with being as slim as I was. Having a daughter really helped me to understand I needed to set an example of appreciating my body. So I started braving the swimsuit in public, or letting my ‘preying mantis legs’ be seen from under a skirt.

And then, just as I was finally allowing myself to appreciate some genetic fortune, my body started to change.

What I eat every day

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