My awkward face as the douche bag has his funny banter...

So,  when you're lucky enough to say you were in a major movie franchise; that you got to be on the the cover of Vanity Fair aged sixteen and you had lunch with the likes of Daniel Radcliffe and Alan Rickman. The fact that you were directed by the same guy that directed Robin Williams and another who went on to win an Oscar for Gravity; you partied with the guy that played Willow for Christ sake and you even got to have a scene with Kenneth Branagh... you look back and kick yourself that you took it all for granted. That history was made, you were a part of it and you never really cottoned on. 

I never really understood the magnitude of being part of such a massive movie.  It was my first propper role, but I dint get to do too much. I flew on a broomstick a lot, sat in the great hall even more and then twiddled my thumbs in a trailer even more. I was fifteen when I got the part of Angelina Johnson by doing cart wheel sand rolly polleys in the audition. Chris Columbus pointed at a few of us and said... 'You're my Quidditch team' I'd never read Harry Potter and I had no idea what that meant and that it was going to be what it ended up being. Even after I had finished filming the third film I had no idea it was what it was.    

When I look back, I wonder how different things would be if I had been able to do the forth film. There were rumours (when I say rumours I mean one forum on IMDB) floating about that I had been sacked. For looking too young, looking too short, getting too old to continue playing Angelina. It would be far more interesting to say I had been fired for throwing a TV out of the window of the Marriot hotel where we stayed on location. But as it turned out, I was offered the forth film whilst I was shooting a kids TV series, The Mysti show. It clashed, and that was that. They replaced me with Chelsea from eastenders and the rest is history.  

You do not anticipate, after being part of such a popular film, the lovely comments you get when people find out you were in it. The fan mail that you receive, the doors it opened in terms of auditions, the things people ask you to sign (an orange) and the questions people ask time and time again. How much did you get paid? Was Daniel nice? Did you have any lines? 

And you stand in a bar that you currently work in to pay the rent, whilst you still go after your goals, whilst you continue to dream big, and someone says 'Oh wow you were in Harry Potter... acting went well then?' and they laugh at their funny funny banter. They are funny. So very funny. Of course. They have just said something that noone has ever said before, that is so terribly, did I mention, funny. 

You stand grinning a massive grin. You make an even funnier joke back about spending all of your money on Star Wars memorabilia and jumpers for your pet snake(I did not) and you walk away slightly off kilter. They can't understand? Why you couldn't retire after three films or why you aren't stroking your tiger (insert rude joke here) whilst bathing in a bath of hundred dollar bills. They can't understand why you are working in a bar! You can't understand how you are either. It's not that you object to hard work, or boring work (well, OK, you sort of do) but you do what you have to do, but there is something that jabs at your ego, because of course you wish it had lead to more movies, more TV shows, more boxes ticked.

So when I get home, feeling uneasy and get into my onesie and into bed, I expect that I get that massive, tight lump in my throat. The one that feels like a golf ball and I let my face screw up like a cats bum hole and cry deep, hard tears. You let yourself because it's OK to admit that you don't want that to be your claim to fame, your one chance at a break. It's OK to admit that you are shitting yourself that all the dreams you have, be it acting or writing, or being a Spice Girl, won't come true. It's OK to wonder, what if the universe isn't on your side? What if things don't go in your favour? What if you don't progress, learn, inspire, grow? I have that moment of doubt. Am I meant to dream big? What if you dream big and nothing happens except life passes you by and you have spent all of your time dreaming big and you miss it completely? Should I just change my path in favour of a nine to five and a good pay cheque every month? What am I meant to do? You're allowed to have a moment and ask all of these questions because you're human. So after I share all these fears with the one person that gets it and knows me, I blow my nose (a few times) take deep breaths and then snuggle in bed and sleep. 

The next morning when listening to some answers from an interview I did with Becky Walsh. (Someone who helped me get over my fear and just get on with the things I wanted to do) I asked her if she had always dreamed big. She said she ended up choosing logical, practical paths rather than always dreaming bigger. She then mentioned how she used to live with Simpon Pegg and Nick Frost and how Simon always talked about the fact that he would write a sit-com one day and put Nick Frost in it. Becky said she always had a slight doubt. 'Would it really happen?' She mentions how years later she was at the bus stop and a bus rode past with Simon and Nicks massive faces on it advertising 'Paul.' She says it was and still is the biggest reminder to 'dream big' always. 

I am inclined to believe that working in a bar, aged thirty, isn't a sign of stepping back, but of the fact that you're still hanging on in there, chipping away, taking small steps at a time. Following goals that aren't the mainstream,  means that it might take a little longer. It's OK that your working a Wednesday night and want to shove a fork in the customers nostrils.

If nothing else you can say that age sixteen you got to fly on a broomstick in the Gryffindor team and be a part of something so surreal that you have to pinch yourself (or check your IMDB) to make sure it really did happen. 

Why not you? Why not you to live the life you always imagined.

Ok, so balance. What does that really mean? It used to mean if I ate a bacon sarnie at breakfast, I would probably eat some kale for lunch and skip dinner. Balance to me always sounds too vague. It's a lazy persons way of saying 'Everything in moderation' or 'only eat one slice of pizza, not the whole thing' PAHAHHAHAHA! One slice, who are you kidding. Why would I only have one slice? This is not the school canteen where they limit you to one measley slice. This is life, my life, and I will not only eat one slice of pizza. But that is the toss up. How much do you want to 'feel' good in that bikini you saw on that girl on Insta. You are pretty sure that just buying the bikini means that you will immediately look like said girl in the Insta pic. Despite your boobs being three sizes smaller, and your bum being three inches bigger and your waist... well your waist does not look like that unless you are wearing spanx. But you know for sure, eating one whole pizza is not going to contribute well to how you 'feel' in your bikini. 

So the dilema ensues. You really want that pizza. You really want that lemon drizzle cake that is oozing lemony, sugary, syrup at you and the sponge is so gaaad dam moist that you could imagine a mini version of yourself jumping on the sponge and then sinking, being engulfed in one big lemony, spongey, cakey heaven and you think. 'Faaak it, who wants to 'feel' that good in a bikini anyways. It happens, what? Like once or twice a year? Noone cares., Noone actually cares. And so, you eat the pizza, but then you also eat the dough balls AND the cake. Washed down with half a bottle of wine and when you get home you think, 'Ahh I've been naughty already so... why not eat the left over ice cream in the freezer.' Get it out the way ready for tomorrow, when you are going to be good. When you are going to start that diet. When you are going to only eat the 1200 calories you allow yourself and tomorrow you will forget about the lemony oozy syrup and the cheesey whole pizza and you will move on.

Except, if you suffer from this ongoing, crappy, but real, body image issue, you won't. You won't move on. The guilt will eat you up and the sugar and the flour will  make your belly cramp and your head hurt and you will wish you had just said no to that bit of left over Ben and Jerrys. Or you wish you had just turned down meeting your friends. You should have just gone home, alone, and eaten kale on air bread with a helping of avocado butter with pumpkin seeds sprinkled on top with some egg whites. DAM IT. Why can't I just be one of those healthy people. Why do I need to diet? Why do I not have the body I want and why, if I want it so bad can I not just stick to a nutrition plan of turkey mince and leaves. 

Why? Because that life right there is a sucky one. One where you are always on a diet. One where you are always on a treadmill. One where you are always standing in front of the mirror lifting bits up, sucking bobs in, trying different angles to see which way you look skinnier, fitter, healthier. That life SUCKS BUM HOLE. After fifteen years of this, I did not want it anymore. It hurt my head. My soul. My relationships with others, my relationship with myself. 

So I began a journey of eating healthier (most of the time) Eating a balanced set of foods daily. Don't get me wrong. In the two years that I decided against no more diets, no more binges, no more counting calories or feeling shite about my body... I have infact done all of those things. I have tried the 5:2 diet, macro counting, binged on weekends a few times and cried when I haven't seen results quickly. My journey is a journey. Not one where I suddenly woke up perfect at life, because I will never ever be perfect at life. So I just began to pick my fights.

It was my boyfs advise, one night when we were at an italian restaurant and I was torn between stuffing my face with everything on the menu or having a salad and crying whilst I watched him eat his whole pizza. He told me to pick my fights if it was causing me this much stress. What can I not live without? What can I say no to? Really. Give or take. I could not say not to the Arranchini balls. I could say no to the pizza. I could not say no to the salted caramel cheesecake, but I could say no to the two glasses of wine. 

People want quick fixes. I so did. I wanted to look like those instagram girls in bikinis. I wanted to look toit, and firm and I wanted it in four weeks. Then the four week mark would come, and maybe I would be a bit smaller, I would weigh 8lbs less and I would be happy about it. For a week. Until I started eating everything and anything I could because I was no longer 'being healthy' anymore.

This lifestyle did not work. It took my sanity (OK that's a bit dramatic) but it took a part of me. I was either all or nothing. The saddest bit was that it was literally about weight. I had no intention of being healthy, of living a balanced lifestyle, of feeling nourished or getting my head into a state where none of this mattered so so much.

So I began picking my fights. 

Instead of a chocolate bar everyday, I have a cube of dark chocolate. Instead of having a Mac Donalds every month, I have an Honest Burger. I can live without the bun on most burgers, but I can't live without the fries, any fries, all of the fries. I can live without cake everyday at work, if it means when I actually go out socialising with friends I can have the gooey, cheesey fritters. I don't need pizza at home from Tesco, but avoid a pizza express pizza? Hell no. I pick my fights. I chose what is worth it for me. I decide what I LOVE, what I don't, what I enjoy with friends and what I don't need at home alone. 

For me, this is 'flexible eating' There is a more technical term for flexible eating, which I will do a post on, but to keep it simple. This for me is how I started my journey.

To a healthier body and a healthier mindset. 

Having a balanced diet (and when I say diet, I just mean, what you eat) came harder than I expected. Balance to me was not eating all day and then stuffing my face with cheese and burgers and chocolate and cake and crisps and... then, having some Special K the next day and detoxing by eating hummus and pita. Whenever I wanted to lose weight (which was always) I would eat about 1200 calories daily, and never really notice a difference. I have flucturated by about a stone over the last ten years. I go up I go down. Every six months. I never had consistency and my metabolic rate had no clue what to do with itself. 

And then, I started working in a gym. 'What? Porridge isn't an ideal breakfast every day when I am being healthy?' 'Whaaaaaaaat? Cardio isn't the bee all and end all?' 'Shut the front door! I can eat butter and not get fat?'

I will delve into exactly what I eat and how I train in other posts, but the first, the most useful thing anyone told me were these simple rules. 

1. Drink a shit load of water. Three litres at least. (This is the hardest thing for me)

2. Cut out fizzy drinks.

3. Eat 5-8 small meals a day every few hours. 

4. Eat a palmful of protein with every meal.

5. Do not cut any food groups out. Eat carbs? YES! 

6. Avoid the processed ones like cake, pasta, bread. 

7. If you do eat the more processed carbs (earn them) and eat them right before or after a work out. 

8. Eat healthy fats. (avocado, coconut oil, nuts)

9. Treat yourself. 80%/20% is the biggest rule I follow. 

10. Be nice to you body. Nourish it. Care for it. Eat well, balanced, not to be skinny but because you deserve to treat it well.