I remember the day before my sixteenth birthday with great clarity. I had been shopping with friends in the city and made my way home on the train. I texted my parents' phones to tell them the train had arrived and there were no busses. The walk home was up a steep hill and took almost an hour. Usually one of them would drop everything and come and meet me pulling up before I got to the end of Station St.
This day however it was our neighbour who pulled up and asked me to get in.
"It's cool, Mum or Dad will be here soon."
"Bridget, you need to get in the car."
I did and Baz told me that there had been an accident and my father had died. Shock was an understatement.
"Nah, he was volunteering with the fire brigade this morning. They had special training for something."
"Bridget, he went to training and there was an accident."
We drove in silence. Mum met me outside our house as Baz pulled in.
"No, mamma, no!" I remembered wailing as she held me and we both dropped to our knees.
"I've rung Martin and he flies in tonight. It was quick, love. He wouldn't have known a thing."
Martin was my older brother who had gained a scholarship at the conservatorium of music interstate and was set to become the next big thing in contemporary violin.
Baz's wife, Marion, or Maz as she was known to rhyme with her husband, was also there and told me she was making me a cup of tea. I had always been Daddy's girl and since Martin had moved out, Dad and I had developed an extra special bond. Mum worked shift work as a nurse and Dad had always been my constant. He had started his career as an accountant, then when computers started taking off, he retrained in programming setting up his own successful business with his best friend, Tony.
"Uncle Tony was there at training with Dad and is in shock, so they are keeping him in hospital overnight, love."
"Have you told..."
"Love, I've told those who need to know, and the fire brigade PR people have been amazing keeping details out of the news until you arrived home."
"Why didn't you ring me?"
"I wanted you to have a few more hours of normality with your friends."
I cancelled my sixteenth birthday. I did not feel like celebrating. The cake had been ordered and Martin, Mum and I sat and ate it all. Cake was not the only food I took solace in. I had gone from podgy child to growing into a lean teenager, however by the time of my seventeenth birthday I was again podgy. In fact, no, I was morbidly obese.
Mum had always claimed we were a big boned family and told me I looked beautiful no matter my size. The boys my age cared though. I did not have a date for my senior formal. No boy ever asked me to the movies. As a joke, Dale Fisher, one of the footy stars asked me to meet him for a pizza one night, but no one showed so I ate a pizza on my own.
My dream before Dad died was to follow him into programming, but once he died, I could not face it anymore. I was sent to counselling and it was suggested I take a year off and travel or work and find my niche. I didn't want to travel. I knew I had distant cousins in Canada, but they had never sent birthday cards, just a generic Christmas card each year, simply 'To Madge, Harry, Martin and Bridget, Merry Christmas from Judy, James, Jon, Jenny and Jemimah the cat.' I found them weird, not only for the fact that they all had J letter names.
I got a job in a fried chicken shop. This did not help my weight at all as I sampled the product every day. I came home smelling of grease. It did lead me to Darren though. He was an assistant manager and a couple of years older than me. He laughed at my jokes and appreciated my work ethic.
"Um, Bridge, I checked the roster and you and I both have Friday evening off and there's a new action flick at the movies, I was, um wondering if, um, well, um..."
"Oh wow! I'd love to go with you!" I put him out of his misery.
Darren was also overweight. We went to the movie and had fast food on the way home. I sat in his car and he leant over and kissed me. I had never been kissed by someone other than a family member, and never a kiss like this.
Our relationship blossomed and after a few weeks I told Mum I was staying at his flat for the night.
"Be careful, love, but I know you will be. He seems nice."
My mother had found a pen on a holiday once with two obese people standing holding each other with their stomach aprons covering their genitals saying, 'Mission impossible!' I wondered how Darren and I would have sex. I knew the basics and my friends had all raved about it. I knew I had urges, but who wanted to fuck a big girl?
That night we did the deed. It was nice enough, just like Darren. After a few months I moved in with him. Neither of us had anything experience with anyone else and I was too ashamed to watch porn so I just assumed it was a pleasant experience, but I could take it or leave it.
After 9 months I was promoted at the chicken shop and Darren was promoted to manager at another site. Our rosters never rarely synced, but we would try and find one night a week to sit in front of the telly together.
My gap year turned into 6 years. Martin was travelling the world making music. He had met and married Katrina, a cellist and they were delightfully happy. Katrina asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding party, but I refused due to my size.
I tried to read books on fat acceptance, and I loved the premise, but the women in these books were all so happy and I was far from happy. I knew I didn't love Darren, but I also did not think there would be anyone else out there who could want me.
Eight years after my father died, I received a call from the hospital where Mum worked. She had experienced a massive stroke and they did not expect her to live. They managed to keep her alive as such until Martin and Katrina flew in from Austria where they had been touring with their contemporary chamber orchestra, but I had to sit with mum for two long days as she lay attached to machines that made her breathe.
"Bridget? Hi, I'm Jill one of the stroke nurses. I worked with your Mum and this is a shock for all of us."
I simply tried to smile and nod, but instead had more tears flowing down my cheeks.
"You're Mum spoke really highly of you and how you handled your father's death."
"Um, sorry, no, you mean Martin, my brother. He's the star of the family and will be here tomorrow. I'm a fat fucking nobody. I handled my father's death by eating myself from a size 12 to this and since I left school, I have been working in a fucking fried chicken shop."
"I can see that you're angry. I'll come back later."
I encouraged Jill to stay and apologised. She started talking to me about Mum's antics at work and we were soon both laughing.
"Tonight, a few of us were going to get together at the bar near the hospital for a few drinks. I'd love it if you could come and meet some of your mum's colleagues."
That night was the start of the rest of my life. My mother lay in ICU in a coma and we knew she was going to die when the machines were switched off. I had spoken with Martin before his flight and we had agreed we would donate any of her organs that could help save the lives of others but knowing how obese Mum was, I was not sure what could be salvaged.
I sat next to Mandy, a girl about my age who had been nursing for a few years now.
"I think it's such a shock to me because Madge doesn't look older than her early 40s."
"Mum's 53, but she looks younger. She tells me the fat helps smooth out the wrinkles."
Everyone at the table laughed and they all had funny stories of things Mum had said or done on the ward.
"It's given me such a shock," said Mandy, "I'm going to start going back to the gym. I used to when I was at uni but shift work has made it hard and although I am more than happy with my curves, I want to be fit so that I don't drop dead suddenly. Fuck, Bridget, sorry. That was so insensitive of me." And Mandy burst into tears.
"So, when are you going to start your nursing, Bridget?" Sally, another colleague of Mum's asked.
I explained that I never said I wanted to be a nurse, however I also learnt that Mum had told all her colleagues about me and that she knew I'd be a damn fine nurse but I needed to work it out on my own.
Darren was next to useless through this whole time. He had never lost a grandparent and yet here I was an orphan at 24. Martin had invited me to go travelling with him and a month after Mum's funeral I told Darren I was going travelling for three months, I had resigned from work and I could not see a future with him. I know I broke his heart, but I also knew I didn't love him.
Mandy had given me food for thought with her talks of getting fit. I knew I ate an unhealthy diet filled with fried chicken and chips. Martin was the lean one in the family and had never had an issue with his weight.
"Martin, can you teach me to eat like you?" I asked on our first night in London.
"What do you mean, sis?"
"Well I've never been on a diet and I don't know if I should do one of the online programs or cut out carbs or drink shakes or what. I just know I'm not fit. I'm sick of asking for a seatbelt extender on planes. I can never get the tray table down enough to use it properly and I don't want to die in my early 50s like Mum did."
Martin explained he didn't really have a formula, but he knew who to ask. Katrina's sister, Yvette was a dietician and Martin emailed her asking her advice. Her reply made it sound so simple- eat less than what your body needs so it will use some fat reserves. Walk 10,000 steps per day and think about some strength exercises. She gave me the name of someone who offered a lot of free advice online and I read as much as I could in my jetlagged state.
Katrina and Martin had continued their tour and I tagged along as an unofficial roadie. It surprised me that I did not miss Darren at all. I hardly thought about him. He knew not to contact me for at least two months at my request, but I also recognised he was stalking my social media accounts still, liking every photo I posted despite never commenting. I thought of blocking him, but it seemed like too much hard work.
I was choosing to eat healthier following what my brother and sister-in-law ate. I had never weighed myself, but I felt my clothes feeling a little looser after a few weeks. I also noticed I was able to carry more of the equipment needed for each concert.
After a few months I was feeling much fitter. Martin had always loved cake and it surprised me that I could have a slice of cake once a week and an ice-cream or a few slices of pizza and still I felt good. We walked past a fried chicken shop in Amsterdam and I almost vomited at the smell.
I had been on the road for six weeks when Darren messaged me. "Bridge! It's brilliant. I'm being promoted to regional manager! You can take my managers spot at my store- it will be perfect!"
Darren knew I had seen the message. It took me a good day or two to respond.
"Darren, I'm sorry, but I've moved on. I'm heading to the US in a few weeks with the orchestra and then when I get home, after Christmas, I'm going to uni to study nursing. I wish you well in your career, but we are not right for each other and I don't want to pretend I have feelings for you that I don't."
