Around Me

There’s so many things going on around you. If it isn’t people walking by, it’s cars beeping horns, the little lady down the road crossing the street. The dodgy guy next door people watching from his balcony. Some days it’s easy to let it all pass by without taking much notice.

But answer me this… Does anyone ever ask if you’re okay? What I’ve come to realise lately, which is fucking frustrating, is that people, friends, family may ask if you’re okay, but do they mean it?

When you talk to or meet up with a friend you haven’t seen in ages, I bet you the first three things they say is, have you got a boyfriend/when you getting married? So when you having babies ?! You still living with your parents or have you moved out? When did it get to be, that the success of your life is measured by the above points? You could have all the above things and still not be happy.

When did it become more important to have ticked off these boxes but not even be happy, surely in today’s world, we don’t have to revert back to tradition or ‘the ideal norms’. Shouldn’t it be right that we make our own tradition … as a girl in her late 20s … is it too much to ask, I mean, god forbid I make my own choices surrounding what’s important. To make sure I’m happy and healthy above all else.

I don’t even care what you’re answer is, that’s why the above is one large rhetorical question.

However, I am telling you, next time you speak to an old friend or someone you haven’t seen for a month or two, ask them if they’re happy.

E ❤

Who Am I?

I started off being a petite little girl …

This is a little bit of a long one, but hold on in there!

So, I guess I will start in the usual place. My name is Penelope Potter and I am 27.
I was always very good at pretending to be someone else… If you’ve read my intro post you will know my name is Evie Fitzgerald. Not as cool as Penelope but I can pretend!
There are so many chapters to my life, technically speaking 27. Intertwined with themes, the plot, stories and the characters…all in all I’m sure one day it will make for good reading. For now, I can at least tell you some mini stories from along the journey.
So let’s just start from today and maybe we can go backwards, then forwards then I’ll fill in the gaps inbetween.
I started off being a diddy petite little girl.
That was until I got to the age of 14 and my entire family thought I’d been scoffing nan’s bloody biscuits … my clothes sizes had gone up like a rocket, unfortunately I would sit there in my mums tops.
As a young girl I can’t tell you how horrible and ashamed that made me feel, I wanted to wear fun pretty things, yet I sit there in a flowery top that was beyond my years. Sigh.
*And by the way let me just clear up a point, they weren’t actually my nan’s biscuits I had been supposedly scoffing, they were grandads. 
However FYI … she would hide hers in the boiler cupboard any chance she got (she still does!) Secondly, they were ginger biscuits. Seriously, what kind of child in their right mind,  wants to scoff down ginger biscuits!
Anyway, you can basically see where I’m going with this right?
They even called my parents for a family meeting, “hear thee hear thee, your firstborn is eating all the biscuits, so she be round”. Basically I was fat. It was actually alot worse than it sounds.
Moving on from #biscuitgate, and hitting the fast forward button a few months…
After 3 visits to the Dr’s, 2 hospital trips to a specialist. Finally, I had been diagnosed with PCOS at the tender age of 14. At the time It sounded pretty cool until I realised it meant polycistic ovaries syndrome.  Which came with a plethora of wonderful symptoms that not even Satan would want.
Don’t get me wrong, at first when I found out I felt a bit smug. My 14 year old self – was like yeah fuck you family. Motherfuckers. I didn’t eat the damn biscuits. So in your face….I’m just diseased instead.
Fat and diseased. Wow. 
It was only then that I realised this isn’t something that’s going to just disappear,  I’d already experienced an ultrasound at the age of 14 and NO, not because I was going to steal the title of he UK’s youngest mother, but quite the opposite. I may not even be able to have children.
I was 14, did I want children? I don’t know, am I supposed to have them? Is it what I’m on earth for … again I didn’t know. To be fair you could ask me the same question now and I still couldn’t give you an answer.
The Dr’s would tell me, just lose a bit more weight, they even made me see a dietician, I used to leave her sessions crying.
It’s not an easy thing to deal with at the age of 14 or 27. I’ve relied a lot on articles, online blogs and other people I’ve never met in real life, for advice.
The fact that other people in my family have this and have never found much out about it frustrates me. I’m one of those, research all the things kinda people.
Anyway, so the reason I wanted to start here was because I wanted to talk about something that I guess I’ve held in quite dearly.
Going out and Socialising. 
When you don’t feel comfortable in your own skin, you don’t even wanna leave the god damn house. Why do I want people to stare? I’ll wear something that will drown me so I can hide without hiding.
It’s hard and I’m only just realising that for most of this year I’ve avoided going out, hanging with friends, enjoying life. But I would literally do anything to avoid going out into the public.
When you are bigger than the average person, you seem to stick out like a sore thumb. People stare, maybe they can’t help it, maybe they didn’t mean too, but they did, they all do, silently judging from across the train carriage.
“Sorry my legs are quite big and take up a little of your seat.”
When everyone’s eyes are on you, it’s hard not to notice.
I often wonder what they think, maybe they think I eat too much, or I’m lazy, or I swallowed a beach ball….
I think it’s best I didn’t know.
I told you I came here to be real, this is only the begining.
Feel free to comment or contact me – PCOS Strong! lets stick together.
E ❤

A Little Bit of Evie.

I feel like I always have a lot to say…

Firstly, thanks for joining me!

You can call me Evie, Vie or Fitz.

I feel like I always have a lot to say, yet never get to say it how I want. So I made this blog to do exactly that.

If you have a shit sense of humour or you aren’t partial to a good swear word then I’m sorry but this probably isn’t the blog for you.

For all of you who feel you belong and have as if by magic, found my blog, keep reading, you never know it might get a bit interesting.

E ❤

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton