Well…as it turns out I didn’t have many pictures of me actually eating things so you’ll have to take my word for it. I did. Many things.

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When I travel I like to feel the place. The “watch and run” as I call it, I hate that. Getting out snapping pictures, looking at stuff and on to the next place. Urgh. Some of our trip was like that. But we also had days where we just strolled around and felt the atmosphere and well…ate things 😉

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Ah yes. On the top of the tallest tower I, or rather my dress decided to flash San Gimignano. At least the other tourists. And Boyfriend was busy taking pictures and laughing. But then I was laughing too. Someone seeing my knickers isn’t going to get them in a twist.

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I don’t like the sight of my back. I’m not saying this to make you contradict me. “But that’s silly, you look lovely”. I believe that in sharing our insecurities we can actually be better at accepting ourselves. That we are not alone in doubting ourselves. And if you look at me and think my perception of myself is wrong, perhaps that will start a spark that makes you look differently at yourself in the mirror. I do this exercise all the time. I look at someone with the same size or bigger upper arms, wider hips or wobblier thighs than I have and remind myself that I do not find this repulsive in others. I see beautiful women – confident and happy in their short shorts and tank tops. Why do I judge myself more harshly than I judge others? But I do. And the battle is constant. Because I want to be thinner. I want to less wobbly. But I also really really like food.

I used to be happy. Content. My biggest wish was bigger boobs but other than that I found my body just fine. It was there, it was useful, it was rarely sick. It was a good body. Then my mother said this: Oh you’re getting a wider around the bottom huh?

What she meant was: “You’re becoming a woman”

What I heard was: “You’re getting fat”

Society struck. Because just because I grew up in the country side doesn’t mean I was completely immune to the images I had been presented with for 14 years. I didn’t eat for 5 years. I swallowed diet pills. I drank water and exercised ferociously. I was rewarded with positive comments about being slim and toned. I was punished by dizziness and self loathing. I was never diagnosed. I began eating again. Mostly because I got a depression and the anti-depressants made me want to eat and sleep and nothing else. I went to my doctor and said: I’m afraid I might kill myself. I showed her my wrists with the old scars and the fresh cuts. One day I’ll be drunk enough to have the courage, I said. She said I should get this medication. She sent me home. I missed school a lot. Now because I slept, before because I was drunk or crying so status quo was the same. I gained a lot of weight. That didn’t make me feel better and I quit the anti-depressants. The doctor didn’t care. I wasn’t surprised.

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I got better. But the weight remained. The obsession about food remains. Not eating feels like a victory. Eating feels like a victory. Food will still make me cry or sink into apathy or rage. If the food isn’t as I planned, if someone else makes it I will use it as an excuse not to eat it. It feels good not to eat it. But my stomach disagrees and I will end up eating. That feels good too. My body and my mind have never been friends but most of the time they get along. Most of the time I’m happy now. Most of the time I eat and I’m happy with it. But there’s always a mean little Jiminy Cricket telling my I shouldn’t eat that bite. That I shouldn’t have that gelato. He’s always there. In Italy I usually beat him. But I still don’t like the pictures. My arms. My back. That’s why I post them. Because I know I’m wrong. I just don’t know it.

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Anyway, I wasn’t going to get all touchy-feely with you. But taboos should be broken. We are so many with all sorts of issues we shouldn’t have.

So let’s talk about it. Let’s stop being ashamed of breaking. Of doubting. We shouldn’t dislike ourselves but we also shouldn’t disliking ourselves for disliking ourselves. We shouldn’t feel alone. We find strength in eachother. I believe that.

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This is the wineyard we visited. It was less a mile from our house.

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I bought olive oil from these trees. Okay, maybe not exactly these but from this yard.

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Dude, I’m hashtagging. Stop taking pictures of me.

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Seriously...hashtagging. Go away.

Seriously…hashtagging. Go away.

My eternal companions on this trip were my fan and water. And phone. I did take a lot of half decent iPhone pictures but compared to these from Boyfriends camera…well let’s just say I have no particular decide to share them >.< 😉 They will look all grainy in comparison.

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That sky.

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Seriously. That sky. I was rather disappointed with Firenze. There were so many tourists! I know I’m one too but I have been a lot of places that were no where near this crowded. But you know to each her own. I know many who love Firenze, it just wasn’t my favourite.

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Siena was lovely!

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All the tourists were seeing refuge from the heat in the shadow of the tower.

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And Montalcino was beautiful as well!

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Old convent. The monks’ attire was rather unfortunate though. Pointy white hoods. I know they probably did it first. Still. The Swatika was also Indian first. I still wouldn’t use it now.

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And of course lots of wine. It’s hard to compile a week into a few pictures but I think you can get a feel of my trip 🙂 I really recommend Italy. Always and forever. But I should probably start going new places. Next up is Christmas in Paris.



All pictures by Mikkel Maier Henriksen

14 thoughts on “#IateTuscany

  1. Such an amazing, genuine, and honest post. You have a beautiful such spirit, not to mention how gorgeous you are. I hope you feel that more and more every day. Thank you for sharing!


  2. I’m happy to hear of others struggles. I have some form of an eating disorder. It’s been called binge eating disorder. For a while I had bullemia. I think we settled on depression and anxiety with EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified). I can relate so well to “I hate food. I love food. Not eating is a victory. And eating is a victory.” I’m 50 lbs overweight, and for a long time I hated myself because of it. I still have days I hate myself. But it’s a process. There’s always been a part of me that wished I could convince myself to never eat. How much weight I would lose. But then if I tried, I’d binge. And sometimes then I’d purge. The cycle of starve, binge, purge plus other health problems really screwed up my metabolism. And now…its 100 times harder to lose weight than if I had just gone about it the “right” way from the beginning. But then again…my mind wouldn’t let me see a “right” way. That’s the way I’m trying now, but it’s a struggle. I’m fat. And society reminds me every moment of every day that’s unacceptable regardless of cause. I try to champion for other women who haven’t had that moment yet where they realize that society is dumb and self centered and knows nothing about you or your struggles. And cares nothing as well. I think it’s important that people see people who are conventionally beautiful can go through the same struggles that someone conventionally unbeautiful has. I wish you luck in your struggle and triumphs.


    • Society sucks. Especially for women, and more so if you are of colour and/or overweight. Fatshaming is a mayor issue. “I’m worried about your health” No you’re not, you’re being an asshole.
      I will never know your personal struggles (how can we ever know anyone elses really?) but I know the feeling where you wish you could just stop eating. I saw The Devil wears Prada and when Emily Blunt said: I eat nothing and when I’m about to faint I eat a cube of cheese. And my thought was not: That’s insane! but rather: I wish I could do that…
      I wish you all the luck and power to feel better.


  3. So, I follow you on instagram because of books and because of your beautiful dresses and today I’ve clicked on the link on your bio and here I am, crying because thanks to you I’m feeling less alone. Sometimes I feel beautiful, but most of the time I’m constantly thinking about my not too slim thighs and arms and I hate myself for not being able to diet. I live in Italy, so you know, pasta and pizza are too good to avoid. And I love eating, so it’s difficoult not to eat! So I can relate… Anyway, amazing post! Also, I live in Italy but not too close to Tuscany (I live in Sardinia) so I’d love to go there someday 🙂


    • I feel exatctly the same. I have a much easier time when I’m not too fond of the food, but being an adult also means I do the shopping, so it’s too easy to buy the good stuff. More cheese, less broccoli. And most days it’s okay…until it’s not…
      I would love to visit Sardinia as well one day. The problem with Italy is you always have to go back 😉


  4. My dearest kitty Kat… such a bittersweet and happy and deep and fun and moving post! Many things I can relate to, too. Can’t really find words, I’d rather hug you and have a nice Unbirthday chat together! XOXO


  5. I also appreciate posts like these. Not so much the weight/eating aspect as, as much as I would love to lose weight and I was incredibly hurt when my Nan would poke me and call me the Pilsbury Dough Boy (we don’t speak to her anymore) I have never been overly bothered by it so whilst I sympathise I can’t empathise (I have seen friends go through this however). I’m big and that’s fine. It’s the depression and the scars that makes me appreciate these. It makes me feel less alone so thank you.


    • I’m glad you could some of it. We are so different in our struggles but most can relate and emphatise with some aspects in other peoples lives but rarely all of them.


      (Also your nan is an insensibel *insert bad word of own choice here*. But that seems to be a common way with grandmothers. My little sister has been quite overweight for some time and our nan never fails to mention how much she eats or if I have lost weight or that my little brothers slim girlfriend eats a lot less than any of us. I am soo not surprised at my own mothers insensibility about the subject)


  6. I kinda loved how you admitted to hating seeing your back. I do too! I have what I call “wings” (chubby rolls on my back that can show in certain outfits or make bras even worse to wear!) and even though most days I ignore them, I get so self conscious with them sometimes! We all have our trouble areas or parts of us that we don’t like but it’s such a shame that in today’s world, we’re so pressured to change ourselves. I am so sick of overthinking every piece of food I put in my mouth and every pound I gain. ARGH!!!!! I don’t struggle with an eating disorder but I can relate to some of what you said here. WE ARE BEAUTIFUL!!!!! =)


  7. Hey Kat,
    I also appreciate this post. I’ve been lucky a lot of my life to be the size I want to be without any particular effort (although I’ve always disliked my bottom and thighs and tummy in my irrational side) but recently, I’ve put on some weight and I sure don’t like it. One of the cleaners at my school said to me, “You’ve put on weight…. but it looks good on you.” My oversensitive side heard that comment and went “AAAAAAAAAAAARHGH, I am fat!” but then I had to try and remember the second half of the comment. Yes, it’s important to talk about it. I said that on a TARDIS Tuesday when I wore a dress which was NOT my desired shape. I didn’t want sympathy or any ‘”Oh you’re fine” comments but I wanted to say it!
    We went to Firenze when we got engaged and whilst I liked it, I didn’t like the crowds either! x


    • Well, I’ve always found that weird too. Why mention the weight at all? Why not just say, you look good? Even if it’s well meant it’s still absurd to focus so much on weight – and at worst it’s a backhanded compliment. I try to never compliment specifics, but to say You are beautiful, not your butt looks good in this, or your waist looks so tiny in that or whatever. Just, you, as a whole person, are beautiful.


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