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Fatty

30/08/2013 17:32 BST | Updated 30/10/2013 09:12 GMT

When I see a really fat person, I don't judge them like my boyfriend does. I don't go "how can they get THAT big?" like my mate Charlotte does (both fattist buggers), nope, I GET them. I see a really, really, I'm talking, 'should have their own documentary on Channel 5' fat person and all I can think of is 'yep, could totally get that way'.

I love food. I eat breakfast whilst thinking about lunch. I dream about fried chicken and I pray one day, a Nandos publicist will randomly read a tweet of mine and say "what the heck" and send me a black card.

Regardless of all this food loving (and not good food either, just any food), I have never seen myself as big. So, it was to my horror when last week I looked down and thought "oh hell, I've only gone and piled it on again." Let me share with you why I say again.

A few years ago, I went out with a very skinny, Mr Muscle lookalike dude, who ended up dumping me. I found myself with no confidence and due to his dinners of fried food and cheese, FAT. Not 'Channel 5 doc' fat, but a big, chubby size 16.

For me, I was fat. For a girl who went to stage school 6 nights a week and couldn't stop moving, I was FAT. So, powered on by every ballad and rom com - I hit the gym, quit the booze, went on holiday and upgraded to a better looking boyfriend.

Fast forward three/ four years, and I'm now in an even better relationship than Mr Muscle and Mr Holiday Romance and everything is perfect. This was, until last week when I looked down and saw 'Fat Gina' was back.

See, if you are like me, you kind of ignore the signs. First, you start wearing long tees instead of vests. Then you wear that one pair of jeans, ignoring the 5 other pairs stuffed to the back of your wardrobe. You will probably tell yourself that your pyjamas shrunk in the wash and that's why you get home and throw your boyfriends Tshirt on E.V.E.R.Y night! You buy bags, shoes and do your hair instead of buying clothes. You deny, deny, deny, deny until that one photo pops up. Usually on Facebook, and that's it. You cannot hide it anymore. It's out there. They know. Sheeet. Do they all know? Do they know I am fat?

Asked my boyfriend and it turns out they do. Bottoms.

So, I popped into Virgin gyms. Signed up for a year. Bought Muesli and will replace dinner with wine tonight. I'll be back in a month or two to see if I have de-fatted.]

In the meantime, if you see a fat person, remember, it can happen to you in the blink of an eye.

Oh, and if a Nandos publicist is reading this, 'gis a black card.