When I look at my body I see 0, a large oval that with age and calories has become soft and plump, I think about how my body has always been a number. In my teen years I was very much a 1. I wasn’t happy, stick thin and no lady lumps, I felt out of place and undesired. With a few more years that figure of 1 gained 7 from somewhere becoming a figure of 8.

I felt good, desired, that was only because men suddenly became interested in me and my soft bits, and I lay on many a mans chest, 19 to be exact. All those man were merely numbers, that important 4 letter word never left my lips or touched my heart, after all it isn’t a concept that fits in well with math and logic. That changed on the day I blew out 32 candles on my cake, after the 3rd vodka and coke my awkwardly stiff body loosened up and I made my way to the dance floor, with a new found confidence and all the numbers slipping away.