“Matilda?”
I turn towards the light, confident voice on my left and see the person I’ve arranged to meet smiling back at me. The first thing I notice is that she’s not overly skinny, as I expected a trainer to be. She’s slim and looks great in her fitted shorts, but I don’t find her body intimidating, more realistic.
“Yep, that’s me,” I nervously reply with an awkward little wave.
Great, she thinks you’re a moron already.
“It’s so good to meet you!” she says and pulls me into a quick hug. “I’m Natalie. Shall we get started?”
“Yeah, sure.” Gripping my water bottle more tightly, I wait for her to show me which gruelling machine I’ll be using first. I follow her across the main floor and up a set of stairs, where I try not to let her see how out of breath I am as she talks about the weather. To my surprise, she leads me to a comfy-looking lounge.
“Take a seat.” Natalie gestures towards a sofa while she sits on the armchair opposite, crossing her legs and pulling them underneath her so she resembles a pixie.
Confused, I perch on the sofa and wait for her to organise her tablet.
“Right,” she says after a minute of tapping on her screen. “So, Matilda Simmons, how can I help you?”
“Well, I’m looking to lose weight. I’ve tried it on my own, and I’ve had a trainer before, but I haven’t found anything that works for me.”
“Yet.” She points at me with her pen.
“Sorry?”
“You haven’t found anything that works for youyet.”
“Right, and I’m hoping that’s where you come in.”
“Okay! So, let’s figure out your goals and see if I can help you achieve them. What are you hoping to get out of working with me?”
“Well, like I said, I want to lose weight.”
“Why?”
I take a quick glance down at my stomach rolls and enormous thighs before looking her in the eye and raising my eyebrow.
“Why? Because I’m overweight, and it makes me unhappy.”
“Ah, so you’re looking to be happier?” she asks, nodding her head and typing on her tablet.
“Yes. I want to look in the mirror and not hate what I see.”
“Mhmm. So you want to feel confident?”
“Well, yeah. I think losing about two and a half stone should do it.”
“Okay, let’s just park that number for a minute, shall we? What makes you think losing weight will make you happier and more confident?”
I struggle to find the words to explain because I feel the answer is too obvious to warrant an explanation, but Natalie sits calmly waiting for my answer. I pick at a loose thread on my sleeve and try to figure out how to explain to this clearly fit, confident person how it feels to be fat and hate yourself.
“All my life I’ve been big. And I don’t remember the last time I felt truly happy, despite having no reason to feel that way other than my weight. So it just makes sense that shedding the fat will be the thing that finally makes me happy.”
“So, you think that losing two and a half stone will magically make you happy?” Natalie asks bluntly, but not unkindly.
“Well, no, not magically, but…”
“Look, Matilda. I’ve been doing this job long enough to know that when people come to me for help losing weight, it’s not generally aboutlosing weight, you know?”
“Not really.” This isn’t the way I was expecting this session to go, and the surprising turn of events throws me off.
