That Time I Got ‘Fat Shamed’..


So it’s no secret that three years ago I was 4 stone heavier than I am now.

This was something I’d never experienced before, especially as someone who’d always held a lot of value on being ‘lean’ and ‘in shape’ training HARD, eating clean (whatever that means) and being proud of the abs that I’d slaved in the gym for…

So to not recognise the body staring back at me?

To feel completely out of control?
To feel the need to hide parts of my body in clothes that I would never usually have dreamed of wearing?

.. Was completely foreign to me.

And let’s be honest no amount of someone telling you to ‘Be kind to yourself’ or ‘You’re lovely as you are’ is actually going to make you feel any frikkin different when you’re fat, shattered and got a baby hanging off your boob, on demand..

Yes, babies are a gift from God..

Yes I know how GRATEFUL I should have been..

And I was, whoohoo rar rar rar .. but give us a break, it’s not all Mary fecking Poppins is it, Hun.

So, lemme just set the scene, there I was, first night out post baby, fat shattered and trying my best to salvage a life, and some kind of identity, beyond the bump.

When some drunk girl barged past me on the dance floor, declaring.. wait for it..

“Don’t push me you FAT BITCH”..

Yep, no shit, that’s what she said.

I’ve been called a lot of things in my time, but honestly, FAT has never been one of them.

Now, I would like to just point out that I didn’t push her, in fact quite the contrary, our pissed bandage dress friend, who likely weighed about as much as a postage stamp, had in fact tried to barge me out of the way, wading through the dance floor.

Now if there’s anything you should know about me, I can deadlift double my own body weight, a bit like Persil, gal is deceivingly small and mighty. I am not easy to push over or move out of the way. More so, wielding an additional 4 stone of weight. So postage stamp had no fecking chance (soz, Hun).

Not to mention.. errr.. manners??

Ya see, in the past, I’d have hurled an expletive back at Bandage Dress. Rightly or wrongly, I’ve been brought up with the Burnley mentality.. You don’t let people push you around, you stick up for yourself, if someone pushes you- you push them back twice as hard.

But, weirdly, probably for the first time in my life, not this time..

I just looked at her, bewildered, a weird curiosity washing over me..

All I remember thinking is  ‘Fucking hell, angry much?’

And that was that.

Bandage Dress staggered off in to the crowd.

And it wasn’t till the weeks that followed as I rehashed the tale of my ‘one night out since I gave birth’ to one of my friends over lunch, that a stark realisation washed over me as my friend laughed  “OMG asif you got fat shamed!!”

Fat shamed?


Did I get fat shamed?

Is that what it’s supposed to feel like to be fat shamed?

I mean, I didn’t actually feel shame in my weight, in my size or about myself.

I mean it wasn’t my ‘ideal weight’ (whatever that means), yes I was shattered, uncomfortable and fat.. A LOT fatter than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Like, ever.

I mean, don’t people always talk about being shamed by other people?

‘She fat shamed me’

But isn’t shame an emotion?
A feeling?
A feeling that you feel, yourself?

Can anyone else actually make you feel shame in something?

Is it not like any situation?

Don’t we have a choice on which feelings we feel in reaction to something?

Don’t we all, as women, find and feel shame in different things?

Like what I’m ashamed of (which, what can I say, is way less than I probably should.. FYI I am my own biggest eye roll) might be totally different to what you feel ashamed of.

I mean, it wasn’t that long ago that I got called a ‘bint’ by some random woman I’d never met, on the internet…

Does that mean I got Bint shamed?

Well I don’t think I did, in one breath I just think this woman, can’t even remember her name, was a bit of a knob. In another breath I just feel a bit sorry for someone who feels the need to try and belittle someone they’ve never met on the internet.. I mean imagine the headspace you have to be in to do that, Imagine THAT being your view of the world.

So why then. WHY was it that I refused to put myself in the category of being a victim of ‘fat shaming’ because as the dance floor situation goes, I think I qualify for that narrative, don’t I?

So, following this, three things happened in succession, that lead to my epiphany..

The first came to me when I asked the following question, just out of curiosity, in my SOS secret FB group..

What does the word ‘fat’ mean to you?

And the response I got was astounding..

“No self control”

The list went on..

The second revelation was a conversation with my client, we’ll call her Hannah.

There are a few reasons that this conversation left me pretty flabbergasted (great word btw), ya see Hannah was in her forties, works hard in the gym, eats well and is in great shape, by all accounts.. Great relationship with her husband, successful career..

So, the last thing I was expecting was for this woman, who had her ‘shit together’, by all accounts, to look me in the eye and tearfully whisper..

“I still feel like the fat bird”

And there it was.

The epiphany..

The reason I didn’t get the ‘fat shaming’ thing.

The reason I didn’t feel the pang of shame in my own fatness.


I have never identified as a fat person.

Fat, is just that.. body fat. It’s not an organ, it’s not stuck there.. I’ve always had other value to my body.

The body that’s carried both of my sons.
The body that I had patience with, trained and trusted and  as a child who LOVED to dance.
The body that’s run two half marathons.
The body that can deadlift double my own bodyweight.
The body that feels nourished from all kinds of foods.
The body that has shape, curves and tiger stripe stretch marks.

Even wielding 4 additional stones of fat, more body fat that I’ve ever had in my entire life in fact, that body fat wasn’t who I was as a person on a conscious or subconscious level.

Don’t you see, that if you’re spending your life looking in the mirror telling your self you’re not enough in some way or another.
Putting all your hopes and dreams on a number on a scale, hoping that you might take up less space in the world.

Ashamed of who you are.

Not ‘Slim enough’ to wear that.. for example, is something I hear a lot.

Fat isn’t always just a word, it’s something that’s attached to thought, feeling and negative experience and for some women that’s a life time of negative experience and negative connotation, believe me, I’ve seen it.

But all isn’t lost.

Guilt is what you’ve done.
Shame is because of who you are.


Only you can feel shame in who you are. I’ll have you consider that no one else can make you do that.

So what I’m about to say is super cheesy.. but it’s so f*cking true..

So before you throw up a little bit in your own mouth, I’m inviting you to read the words and actually think

‘Is this true for me?’


OK, here goes.. I’ll have you consider that if you want TRUE change, you need to believe that you are beautiful and shine your torch beam on your own good shit.. not the negative, doom and gloom, even when you feel like there isn’t any.

Place value in what your body can do and celebrate her, rather than dragging her down and just trying to take up less space in the world.

You need to believe that you don’t deserve to be ashamed…

And to do this.. the answer ain’t in the next ‘diet’, the next drink your own piss ‘detox’ or your next Slimming World group..

It’s an inner belief to the problem, it’s about getting ‘lit from within’ to heal the shame that you, yourself, feel and to do this you need to go on a journey to change your story.

The exact belief system behind my SOS programme and all the work that I do with my clients.

If you need some help on your own journey, a helping hand, a coach and a group of other amazing women who’ve got your back you can apply for my SOS programme here


3 things you need to know about your “Sugar Addiction” (eye roll)










Meet Susan, self proclaimed sugar ADDICT…


“I don’t eat sugar because it’s toxic”


Susan also gets pissed every weekend, is stressed outta her tree and isn’t sleeping properly.

But PLEASE Susan, do tell me more about how sugar is killing you, Hun.


Now, if like me, you’ve got a serious sweet tooth, espesh when it’s Shark Week, you’re tired, hungover .. or you’re just bored at home and the Hob Nobs seem to call your name from the cupboard.

I mean THAT teamed with flamboyant, sensationalist claims made by the media comparing sugar to crack cocaine. The same media who thrive on taking peer reviewed, expert studies totally out of context and cherry picking the information to suit their sensationalist stories.


OR health and fitness ‘professionals’ wielding the same misinformed information, behind their own agenda.

^^^ Which for me, is even worse.


Now, ill have you consider that unless you’re leaving your desk for a cheeky line of Tate and Lyle off the back of your toilet seat at work..

You’re probs NOT addicted to sugar.

I mean in it’s purest form, have you ever seen anyone eating it straight outta the bag, snorting it or injecting it?

I know there’s probs a video on Lad Bible but I’m not talkin’ about snorting for LOLs.

Now in a few sentences time, I’m gunna explain EXACTLY why you’re NOT addicted to sugar and why trying to go cold turkey is the worst thing you can do..

So here’s the first thing..


So you might have heard that sugar is just as, if not more, addictive than Heroine or Crack Cocaine.

Now I KNOW that you’re a women with a level head and more than one brain cell.. so lemme ask you this..


Have you ever heard of a granny being mugged to fund a Tate & Lyle habit?



Mmm.. didn’t think so.


See, here’s the thing..

There’s research that suggests that, similar to heroine, dopamine in the brain surges when you eat sugar.

Dopamine from the pleasure centre in the brain that is also released when…

You get a like on Facebook.

When you eat cake (yasss, Hun).

When you take a hit of heroine.

When you have sex..

**So, Susan, you’re addicted to sugar and DICK? How’dya like that for a bag o’ potato chips**


Here’s the thing, you are not addicted to sugar based on this misconstrued and slanderous claim.

The brain’s reward centre isn’t about sugar. It’s about an experience you get from eating palatable foods.

Don’t believe me?
See how much pleasure you get from eating sugar in it’s purest form and get back to me.

I mean, you can’t shy away from the fact that the majority of tasty foods and foods you’re likely to over eat are sweet or carb based, in some shape or from..


Which brings us to the “Sugar is toxic” argument.


Now here’s the thing.. BY LAW, if sugar was toxic, it would have to be clearly labelled as such and considering, the amount of people who over eat foods that are high in sugar.. people would be dying from it’s toxicity.


**Cause of death?… Cupcakes**

See this is the thing, sugar correlates to the foods we love and foods we tend to over consume.

Sugar isn’t making you fat..

The OVERCONSUMPTION of calories  is.



It just so happens that most women I speak to tend to over indulge on the sweet stuff and if you’re one of my clients, you’ve likely seen the tele class, in my private members area, as to why we as women are more drawn to sweet foods.

I mean surely it’s about time we stopped perpetuating myths about sugar being addictive and sugar being toxic.

Now, I’d just like to point out that I am in no way encouraging  wooohooo sugar coma all-day-errrr-day but  nothing irks me more than seeing coaches, PT’s, ‘Health Professionals’ on social media perpetuating these sugar myths..

And the worst part, advising women to go cold turkey from sugar to rid them of their made up addiction that, ahem Honey,YOU have put into their heads in the first place.

Who in their right mind thinks that it’s ok to inflict a made up addiction on someone else?.. it’s not.

**OH you enjoy a few Hob Nobs? SUGAR ADDICT!**

^^^ Piss off, Hun.

Here’s the thing anyone who knows anything about the treatment of addiction itself , knows that addictive type behaviours and CRAVINGS get worse when you restrict.

Again, I know you’re a woman of substance so consider this.. is ANYTHING in excess great for you?



So to reflect.. Do you still think you have a sugar addiction?

Or is this whole thing actually a case of upgrading the way you think about certain foods to understand that YES, some foods are higher in nutritional value than others.

That it’s ok to detach the neggy language, the guilt and STILL know that it’s OK to enjoy something sweet, it’s not the end of the world, Hun.

Is it time you got the f*ck over yourself and enjoyed a doughnut for what it is?

^^ You’ll know by reading this whether this is true for you 😉


Love Lottie ‘Susan just needs some good D…oughnuts’ Too Hottie 


The Forgotten Art of dealing with A*holes

I mean, let’s be honest, ya know what they say.. some friends are like boobs.. some are real, some are fake and some are just PROPER TITS…
I can’t imagine that you’ve been through your life without coming up against one A*hole or another, right?

So, here are 4 easy steps to dealing with A*holes..

Enjoy xx

Fem Fresh & Weight Watchers



So, recently I made a purchase.
Something I’d never even considered buying before.

In fact I didn’t even know such a thing existed..

But alas..
Here we are…
And I can announce..


And clear

And proud

That I am now the owner of a can of Fem Fresh..  


I promise I’ll expand on this in a sec but before I continue, I’d like to just point out that I don’t consider myself to be deodorantly challenged in the Dawson’s Creek department, if ya know what I’m sayin’ Hun.

However, After a conversation with one of my girl friends, who uses lemony scented Fem Fresh before a night out in case she ‘gets lucky’,  I found myself with a bizarre and over whelming envy…

lemony vagina envy.

(Not something I’ve experienced before)

And upon this revelation, I wasn’t going to stop until I got one’a my own…
(Apparently lemon is in demand so I had to settle for peach)


But anywayyyy,

The whole thing reminded me of when we all went through a phase of wearing Rockport boots as school shoes.


Yep that actually happened.


I mean, who’s f*cking idea was that?

I used to think it was Peer Pressure
BUT isn’t it more about Peer Belonging?

Feeling like you belong somewhere?

Whether that’s wearing Rockports and knee socks with a box pleated knee length skirt (eye roll)

Or feeling the need to join Slimming World (and such like) time and time again because isn’t that what everyone’s doing? Isn’t that the done thing? Isn’t it like some weird comfort blanket? Even when it doesn’t work for you?


Like me with my lemony vagina envy..

the premise being.. Well, other people are doing it so I don’t care if I look like a total knob head in my Rockies, box pleated skirt and knee length socks.

I mean it’s true is it not?

If other sheeple, ahem, I mean.. PEOPLE.. Are all doin’ it.

If it’s the done thing..

Then don’t you have to follow the crowd?

But aren’t we often deflated with the results?
With the reality of it?

I know a peachy vag deffo wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

See, my very own Fem fresh fiasco reminds me of the the women that I speak to every day who are relentlessly chasing their weight on a scale, on a plan they don’t like, doing exercise they don’t enjoy, in a group that’s nothing but a drama triangle which promotes the sheeple mentality of the blind leading the blind..

Just today I spoke to a woman who said this…

 “My Slimming World plan isn’t working, the meeting just kinda fills me with dread and I’m following all the rules but not seeing any difference”

I mean we do that don’t we?

Don’t we tend to flock where other people go because it’s the done thing?

Because our mates are doing it?

And if everyone else is doin’ it?!

Don’t we freak out?
Don’t we feel like we’re missing out?
Don’t we feel like we need to be a part of something? 

But lemme tell you, I’ve been a female focussed trainer for 13 years and I have never coached anyone who ever got anywhere by conforming and staying in their comfort zone.

The exact reason why I have a FULL female focussed coaching programme  that thrives on helping women to step out of bullshit diet culture and, dare I say, fall in mother-frikkin- LOVE with their bodies and them selves..

Not from a place of cutting out- cutting back – cutting down.
Not from a place of slaughtering yourself.

It’s done by rebelling.
By going against the grain.

By being a misfit. 

By saying NO. 
By being selfish, for the first time in a long time.

It’s about saying YES to all the shit you enjoy and LOVE with a reason to be proud of your damn self.

^^^ All of which I teach to my squad  of amazing clients.

So, I’ma leave you with this..

You can’t pour from an empty cup..

If it’s not serving you DITCH IT. 

There’s your permission. 

Love Lottie‘Peachy vag well overrated’ Too Hottie 

The crazy ex girlfriend- a memoir

“I Gotta long list of ex lovers.. Who’ll tell you I’m insane” 

The day I heard that song lyric, was the day I realised that Taylor Swift, is in fact, my spirit animal. 

Yep, if there’s a single song lyric that encompasses the one thing that every girl can relate to, that’s the one. 

We hear ya, Hun… We hear ya.  


Now I don’t know whether this is just me but whenever I hear a guy refer to his ex girlfriend as ‘mental’, my inner  bitch  monologue immediately does an internal eye roll.. 

And I’m not afraid to say that I’m TEAM CRAZY EX when it comes to this shit. 

Cause if there’s one thing I’ve learnt in my (almost) 30 years on this Earth… 

 It’s this.. 

You’re always the villain in someone else’s story…  

 Especially that of an angry, bitter ex. 


Don’t believe me? 

You’ve seen the film Maleficent, right?  

 I mean the Mother. Fucker cuts off her wings and goes off bonking some barely legal wench  who looks like she can’t even give a proper blow job. 

 (Yep, sorry Disney, that’s the poignant and moralistic message I took away from your Family Friendly film- MEH) 


Anyhow, I digress.. 

Now, just to give you some perspective before I get to the JUICY part of this tale and all the revenge bodies that I’ve been privy to.. 

My friend’s ex told the whole of his Facebook this… 


“So she turns up at my house crying with mascara down her face, a boom box on her shoulder playing dramatic music and throwing cake at my window so I had to lock myself in the house away from the crazy bitch”


Yes I know…   

Hilarious, right!? 


Absolute God’s honest truth.  

I am not kidding you.
That’s what he said. 

I saw it with my own two eyes on Facebook..  Yep, proper stand up kinda guy. 


Now let me tell you how I knew immediately that this wasn’t true, even before I’d spoken to my friend regarding potential cake massacre 


Number one.. 

Who the fuck owns a boom box?  

 Number two.. 

 How many women do you know who waste cake? 



 I can tell you, hand on heart, I have never met a man who hasn’t deserved absolutely everything he got.  


You reap what you sow, Boo Boo.

So when I spied a pic on Facebook of some girl who’d defaced her fella’s car by writing ‘Cheater’ all over it in lipstick..

I almost smiled. 

 Ya know that smile, that sadistic smile that us in the Mental Bitches club can pull.


 But it was short lived by a sincere pang of disappointment at the fact that this lipstick wielding amateur is letting the side down. 

I mean…

Bitch please, is that really the best you’ve got? 

Now I’ll be honest, I personally wouldn’t have lipstick’d it on.

Oh no.

I’d have scratched it in with a key
On every door..
And the boot… 

Then put dog shit under his door handles. 

Then probs burnt his house down for good measure.
(Soz about that, Hun)


Personal preference I suppose… 

 Partly because I’m an evil, sadistic, satan- spawned bitch from the deepest darkest pit of hell

(or so I’m told)  

… And partly because I don’t know if I have it in me to waste my lipstick collection on this massive Knob head.


The same calibre of man, so it seems, that deserved the deformation of his fishing trophy, amidst my friend’s mother of all ‘mental ex gf’ meltdowns. 

Yep, I know.
That’s EXACTLY what I thought.

 They give out trophies for fishing?  

 Apparently so. 

*I think it must be a bit like when they would give out a prize for ‘joining in’ with the egg and spoon race at Primary School so people didn’t feel left out for being shit at everything else*

Who knows.  


 I, for one,  have been the ‘mentalist’ on a number of occasions.

I won’t go in to the sheer level of lunatic that I am but just to summize..

A mental, lying, thieving, bi polar head case who isn’t fit to look after her own son. 

Yep, I know…


(And also not true) 

Now, what these  stupid mofo’s conveniently fail to mention when they’re diagnosing your mental illness all over their social media, is in fact, what the arseholes have done to make you seriously contemplate how long you’d get in the slammer if you strung  him up by his balls, using nothing but his fishing rod… 


  • Maybe he’s been sticking his oar in someone else’s pink canoe whilst professing his undying love for you. 
  • Maybe he’s been bonking someone in your bed then lied about it. 
  • Maybe you’ve found snapchats to his work colleague which leads you to launch his fishing trophy across the room, just missing his head (That you definitely 100% didn’t aim for) 
  • Maybe the fucker leaves his socks next … Next… To the washing basket 
  • Maybe you are in a three way relationship with the woman who still practically breastfeeds him – who calls the shots on his entire life …Listen, I’ve heard them all, Honey. 

And let’s face it, you have two choices here.

Wallow in your self pitty.


Harness that shit and turn it into something productive.

As a female focussed personal trainer I’ve been privy to ALOT of Revenge Bodies. And I’m happy for you to make of that what you will but there’s something REALLY fucking special that ignites change when you FINALLY  release negativity and do something to better yourself.

And, nothing says SCREW YOU MADDA FAKKKAAA like being in the best shape of your life and not giving a single shit.


Back to being crazy..

It’s basic science … ‘Cause and effect’ 

You, Dickhead, are the cause.

And I (AKA  ‘the mental bitch from hell’) …  am the effect of your behaviour, a woman scorned being tipped over the edge.

Now let’s just analyse this whole thing for a second … 

Fair enough, Hun,  all of a sudden, completely out of the blue, you stand up and set fire to your sofa for no apparent reason.
You crazy, Home girl.

But in any other circumstance their ain’t no smoke without fire and let’s face it.. 

Isn’t it easier to diagnose someone with a mental illness than to own up to your shitty behavior.


Personally, I wish I’d have known this sooner… 

“Charlotte why is your French teacher telling me that if you don’t ‘pull your socks up’ and pass you’re French GCSE your going to end up on the dole?” 

“Because, mum, she’s clearly a fucking basket case… That’s why” 




I got you.

Let’s just take a moment to close our eyes and bow our heads to reflect upon all the fuck-tards  that mental bitches like us everywhere around the world have had to endure, yet managed to escape the clutches of (HALLELUJAH) and keep them in our prayers, along with all the lucky bastards who get to meet us in the very near future. 

The word according to Christ, 

Thanks be to God, 


The Power of Christ compels you. 


Amen MUTHA fuckers.


Love Lottie ‘Going back to hell, where I belong Too Hottie


Understanding Stress


Now, here’s the thing that I drill into most of my clients.. busy women with kids, jobs and LIVES.


It’s not stress that’s the issue. It’s the fact that you don’t manage your stress effectively, yet.

If you’re stressed daily, you need to de-stress daily.


^^^Read that again.

Here’s the thing, as human beings we’re gifted with automatic physical responses designed to keep us safe, heathly and well.


One of these is an evolutionary response to threat. Think along the lines of cave girl running away from a wild animal.. cause ya know, the evolution of the human race depends on staying alive, ya know?

This can be Actual threat, perceived or even anticipated threat.


Now, when we perceive something as threatening, the primitive part of our brain releases the chemicals adrenaline and cortisol, which prepare the body and mind for action so we can either fight or RUN away (AKA fight or flight).


While this was great for our primitive ancestors when faced with life or death threats – in our modern day lives, this response isn’t always helpful in the same way.

Once a threat/ challenge is perceived, our bodies become mobilised and ready for action.

Typically heart rate and blood pressure increase, breathing becomes shallow, muscles tense and non essential systems like digestion and the immune system shut down.

Mentally, we can have trouble focussing on detail.

If the challenge is linked to a particular situation or goal, for example, delivering a presentation or attending an interview, this chemical response creates a heightened state of physical and mental arousal, designed to help us perform at our best.


Once the task has been completed and the challenge is met, adrenaline and cortisol levels can return to normal.


However, when the fight/flight response is triggered by threats we perceive as being beyond our control or capability to handle or by free floating anxiety as a result of repeated or persistent uncertainty and distress, there’s no outlet for the cortisol and levels can build up to a point where effects memory and learning along with raising blood pressure and cholesterol, decrease resilience whilst increasing feelings of depression and inability to cope.


If we’re already in this high pressure state, internally, it takes very little in the outside world to take us over the edge.

we can think of internal stress levels as an internal temperature, each stressor that we experience can raise our temperature by several degrees.

If we experience and create multiple stressors, our internal temperature will go up and up.


If we’re already at 90 degrees – it doesn’t take much to take us to boiling point.

However, if our temperature is at only 40 degrees, we can tolerate A LOT more.


So, the trick to managing our stress responses is 2 fold.


  1. REPEATEDLY practise techniques and strategies to keep down our internal temperature and to engage our natural recovery systems.
  2. To build up our resistance to COPE and THRIVE (my fave word)


Now, here’s the biggie..

Most women I speak to have the perception of de-stressing as a spa day, 3 hours of meditation or an all inclusive week long holiday.


When the actual fact is, it is SO much simpler than that and it can be done to take some time out each day to collect yourself and build your resilience to cope and thrive in your own way.

Things that can be as simple as:


  • Taking 10 minutes of quiet time with a brew in a morning (before your kids get up and you’re running round like a bat shit crazy person)taking some time that’s just for yourself to set up your day.
  • Setting a bed time routine or a morning routine to start and end your day on a good note.
  • Journaling using a 5 minute journal to shine your torch beam away from the perceived stress (My fave is 5 min journal- can buy on Amazon)
  • Finding three positive things that have happened in your day and writing them down.


Here are my final thoughts on this that I wanted to share with ya…

In the world we live in ‘being busy’ is often used as some kind of weird status symbol.

Ya know, the GO HARD or GO HOME mentality.


As human beings we aren’t designed to thrive in that stress ridden environment.
We’re actually designed to spend most of our time in the ‘rest and digest’ state, believe it or not.

So, if you’re finding yourself constantly running at 90 degrees , constantly on the edge of burn out. It might just be time to take a step back and get some tools in ya box which help you to be the best version of yourself. To cope and thrive.

Love Char xxx

Does Tess Holliday Deserve To Be On The Front Of Cosmo?

So, let’s talk about the picture that’s caused so much divide, what it stands for and everything that comes with it.
I know that you’ll be offended, one way or another, and I’m not about to change what I think in order to pander to people’s opinions.

What I’m about to say isn’t just as a personal trainer but a human being.

So lemme just kick this off..

THAT picture, whether you like it or not is..

Powerful. As. Fuck.

I am a MASSIVE believer in OWNING your shit.. whatever that looks like.

From your view of the world, you may or may not agree and I’m cool with that.

However, from mine, working with women who feel like they’re ‘not enough’ one way or another, for more than 10 years, I’ve seen, heard and FELT more than you can imagine.

I’ve had conversations and been a confidant to women that have told me their deepest, darkest worries and fears about how they feel about themselves and their bodies. Things they have never felt comfortable telling even the people closest to them.

Women who come to me with zero self confidence.
Women who struggle with what they see in the mirror.
Women who place their value in anything other than themselves.
Women who are stuck in old, self limiting, beliefs.

Believe me when I say, I’ve felt that shit in my soul.

And as a personal trainer who specialises in coaching women, I find it VERY hard to read comments from other’s in my industry talking about this same picture and their interpretation of ‘what it stands for’ with a complete lack of empathy and understanding with a ‘THEM’ against ‘US’ mentality.

I imagine it’s very easy from the outside looking in to assume that as a personal trainer I want to SAVE all the fat people (equipped with cape and shit tights) but Im not here for that. You might not be like me but I’m here to RESPECT and seek to understand difference then put things together to help you to help yourself, whatever that might look like.

But understand that some people are happy as they are.

Isn’t CHOICE, something that’s being forgotten about, here?

Believe it or not, yes some people take up more space in the world than others yet are very comfortable and confident in their own skin and don’t want or need to be ‘saved’ like you might believe. You only have to look at Tess’s instagram to see that again, she is OWNING her shit.

And what are we trying to do here? Scream from the roof tops that there are only SOME people who DESERVE to be on the cover of a magazine..

But wait hang on a minute, that’s not you, fatty… wallow in your plus sized misery.

‘We can have a fat person but not too fat’
‘We can have a skinny person but not too skinny’
‘We can have a woman with muscles but not too muscley’

Now I would like to make this very clear, I couldn’t give a shit whether you’re plus sized, zero sized, black ,white, purple.. or whether you identify as a fucking tumble dryer.. I would never want someone to feel like they were undeserving or that they didn’t have a voice in this world. Ever.

Now here’s the difference..

Am I cheerleading for obesity?
Am I saying WOOHOO let’s all be fat?

No, no I’m not.

What I am saying is that women have EVERY damn right to be confident in their own skin.

Now, I understand the ‘uproar’ I  understand  the comments.
I get the view that Tess is an extreme, just as a tiny model would be seen as another extreme and, as little of 5 years ago, I probably would have jumped on the same band wagon of ‘This is not ok’.

Which I’ll talk more about again in a sec..

For now let’s just move on to the ‘she’s not healthy’ debate.

Is that amount of excess body fat putting a strain on her skeletal system, body functions, putting her at a higher risk of heart disease amongst a long list of other illnesses, ailments, so on and so forth?


All of which are proven to create physiological burden and both a shortening and negative impact of quality of life.

This isn’t something that can be denied and something I see day in, day out.


I think we need to realise that, in the same breath, the word ‘healthy’ is a complete nominalisation. What healthy means to me, I can guarantee, will not mean the same to you.

It wont look the same.
It wont sound the same.
It wont FEEL the same.

And you will be surprised how many people have a VERY skewed view of what ‘health’ is.

Give it 8 years ago ‘healthy’ to me was having a six pack and that’s where my value of myself lay.. pretty sad really.

And the unfortunate truth is that I speak to ALOT of women who are in a mindset that disguises health as  perfectionism, deprivation, misery and self loathing.

Do I think that the preceding years of epitomising 6 packs and being sold air brushed images of zero cellulite, zero stretch marks (and the deceit that comes with that) have left women, from the outside looking in, with a skewed view of how they ‘should’ look?

At the same time, would I be disappointed if we were trying to use the other end of the spectrum to promote what ‘health’ should look like by promoting obesity?

Yes I would.

But, that’s not what’s happening here.

For me, personally, here’s what ‘healthy’ looks like these days in..

  • Feeling mentally well.
  • Not attaching negativity to food of any kind.
  • Accepting and feeling good my body, regardless of how much space I’m currently taking up in the world.
  • having the attirude that I will always be a ‘work in progress’ and that, actually, is ok.
  • Nourishing my body and practising self love.

Here’s what I can bring to the table in terms of this debate, from working with women who have TOLD me the following..

I want to be able to run around with my kids.
I want my body not to hurt when I move.
I want to get up and down from the floor without it being a struggle.
I don’t want to have a fear that I’m not going to out live my kids.
I don’t want everyday, normal tasks, to feel difficult.

Now, I want to make this very clear.

I may take the piss out of the fitness industry (alot) but I do not, under any circumstance agree with inciting hate. And if there’s anything we can learn from this whole debacle maybe it’s to have RESPECT and understand difference.

Do I think that putting Tess on the cover of Cosmo is the answer to tackling body confidence and self esteem amongst females?


I do  think, however, showing diverse bodies, showing confidence and owning your shit, WHATEVER that looks like and whatever you take away from it, is a start in this shallow world.

Now, at this stage I think it’s worth pointing out that despite the potential facade of “Look at us celebrating body diversity”  I find it very interesting that Cosmo’s pages are still riddled the same drivel of the latest sensationalist celeb diets (despite NOT being categorised as a ‘health’ magazine *eye roll*) and the usual patronising shit-show gossip rag of who banged who.

Considering that I would go as far as to say that Cosmo is , ironically, one of the publications that has undoubtedly played a hand in the disordered eating of Western society, it’s a resounding NO on my end.

Have Cosmo done this whole thing from a place of genuine good intention and celebration?

I’m not so sure.

Have they changed the ethos of the magazine and it’s pages?


And maybe we need to consider THAT is what the actual problem is here.

3 Surprising Things I learnt from having Lip Fillers- By Charlotte De Curtis

Too Hottie

Have you ever noticed that if you stare at anything for too long you’ll find an imperfection?

And isn’t it funny that the more you stare, the same slight imperfection becomes more and more obvious?

Now for my personal training clients I deliver a series of videos, teleclasses and vlogs about all things health, fitness and nutrition and more often than not it’s just me sat in a room, talking to the camera.


And I have the absolute JOY of then editing these videos and listening back to my accent that is proper eloquent in ‘Burnley lass’ twang.

Have you ever done that?
Listened to yourself back on a video?

If you haven’t, hearing yourself on a video is ALL levels of cringe, believe me.


Now, not so long ago, amidst this same joyous cringe-fest that I endure, most days, to help out the women that I train, I started to notice that the more I watched the videos back, the more I started to dislike the way my mouth looked.

I’d sit fixated, staring at my mouth, particularly my thin top lip.


On every video I’d watch closer and closer as the same feeling of perplexity started to descend and I’d feel myself gawking closer and closer at the screen.


Which was kinda weird, because never before had this been a lip thing been a ‘thing’ that bothered me.

I mean, WHY has no one ever told me that my mouth looks like that?


Don’t get me wrong we ALL have our own hang ups…


The fact that my abs don’t like Britney Spears circa 2001, Slave For You.




But this wasn’t like that.


Every morning when I washed my face, brushed my teeth and put on my makeup.


Not only did I dislike my lips but NOW I  had started looking at everyone else’s as well.

Everywhere I went I would be totally transfixed on everyone else’s lips, then compare my own thin top lip, which again, would encourage this weird rumination of lip envy.

With a slight tilt of the head, like a Pug  hearing a high pitched whistle.

“Awww haven’t you got nice lips”


And there it was, pretty much out of nowhere, I hated my own.


So that was the start.

On came the onslaught of Instagram research because, well, lip filler, obvs.

I mean that’s what everyone does, right?

‘Hate it, Change it’  … is that not the culture we live in?

Boobs not big enough? Get a boob job
Waist not small enough? Get a waist trainer.

Fella doin’ your head in? Bury him in your back garden.

Problem solved, Hun.


And just like that I found a really reputable (and expensive) clinic in Liverpool, because I wasn’t gunna let just any Tom, Dick & Doreen fuck my face up.

Here’s the thing..

I see women. Every. Single. Day.

Who come in to my office and go..

“Well I hate my bum”
“And I hate my thighs”
“And I have cankles”
“And I don’t have Instagram abs”

“I’m too skinny”
“And I hate my collar bones”
“And I don’t have curves”

Seriously, I could go on..

And on ..

And on..
And on…

So, immediately, I’m like:

“Look, let’s just stop right there, just for a minute. What exactly DO you like about yourself? Let’s start there..”

Have you ever considered why you’re not asking your self that very question?

Why you’re focussing on what you hate?
Why you’re being such a bitch to yourself?

Because there it was, the lightbulb moment.

And just like that..


The post lip filler epiphany washed over me.

I actually like my face.


Yep. I do.

And the whole lip thing is just a very small part of my entire face.

I’m not saying my face is any cuter than anyone else’s, but for me, ya know what? I like it.

Yeah I’ve got a forehead you could fry an egg on, a mouth that resembles an equals sign, not to mention my eyebrow lady often asks me if I want my top lip waxing too (Cheer’s Hun).


But ya know what, both of those things compliment my face (Not so sure about the tash tho)

And I actually really like it.

(Again, my face.. not the tash)


Ya see, it then didn’t take long for realisation number two to rear it’s sparkly little head..

here’s the thing…


Have you ever had a compliment that you’ve found a bit odd?
Like why did you even notice that about me?

“Haven’t you got a nice hair line” is one that someone said to me recently.

Errrr, yeah, cheers?


Only to realise that, actually, don’t we ALL have these things that we home in on?
The things that we’re a little bit insecure about.

The things that we get fixated on about other people because we’re insecure about our own?

Brought about by shining our own torch beams on all the shit stuff that we haven’t got?


So, since this whole lip filler fiasco, I’ve challenged pretty much every single woman I’ve come across who’s hating on her body or face or whatever.. to find just one thing that she likes about herself.

Ya know, even if your Inner Bitch is doin’ backflips, being a total fucktard and the only thing you can muster is how amazing your damn hairline is.

Go with it.

Shine your torch beam there.


So there it was, the problem that I thought was my mouth, was actually my head.

Now without sounding like some crazed conspiracist, I genuinely believe that we, as women, are being conditioned to have a warped image of what our bodies and faces should look like.

I mean all you’ve gotta do is scroll for 10 seconds on Instagram to be met with yet another identical, overly contoured, lip filled millennial wanna- be, striking the same pose as the last you just scrolled past.

Or the one baring her fallopian tubes for likes and follows.

And if that’s you?

Then, ya know what … more power to you, seriously.


If that’s your thing then I’m down for it.

You do YOU.

And if lip filler is your thing, I am in no way opposed to you doin’ your thing and can highly recommend The Consultant Clinic and their medical staff to look after you.


For me, there ain’t nothing wrong with self improvement that comes from a place of self lova lovin’.


But the lip thing, it’s just not for me.


So if you’re with the rebels.
The misfits.
The round pegs in the square holes.

The just wanna feel happy in my own skin, squad.

I don’t think you should be boxed in to thinking that you need to be or DO things a certain way either, which is the same ethos I use with my personal training clients.

We get results in an unorthodox way, behind all the bullshit of an industry that’s letting us down.

And just to put that into perspective, something I saw, not long after the lip filler fiasco was a programme about precious stones (yes I am that unapologetically geeky)..

here’s what I discovered…

When the gemologists are distinguishing between real and fake emeralds. It’s always the perfect ones that are called out as the fakes.

I’ll just let ya think about that.

Love ya xxx

The Queen Eats First (and other sh*t they don’t tell you)

Relationship Goals, Gone Girls and ‘Shouldy’ Behaviour..


The One.
The love of your life.
The man who fathered your beautiful little Angels.

You go on this amazing nine month journey, together, as a team, posting cute pics on your Facebook of your (hashtag) amazingman, as he kisses your rotund belly and does all kindsa cute baby related shizzle. You gush with pride at your real life Prince- Charming-Baby-Daddy and what an amazing father you can picture in your mind.

For me, the pinnacle moment of this magnificent journey with my other half..
The part that REALLY brought us together?

Was lying next to the man who’s given me my two most precious gifts, the one who has been there with me through the joyous baby boy news, the first kicks, the cankles

The bump kisses.
The foot massages.
The I’m just gunna sit there wide eyed through the hormormal rage and hope it goes away facial expressions.

So there I am, lying in bed staring at my fella’s little face at 2am as he’s sound asleep.
Tiny bit of dribble on his chin.
Not a care in the world.

As I wistfully find myself thinking..

I would literally love nothing more.
Than to punch you in the f*cking throat.


In a world of post baby hashtags of ‘Relationship Goals’, there was me, with an overpowering urge to knock my fella’s lights out.

Should I be ashamed that Gone Girl was my “Go To” maternity book?


Now, it’s important to point out that this didn’t just pop up outta no where and partner resentment is something I hear A LOT from the Mums that I train, regardless of how old their kids are.

So thank the Lord that occasionally fantasizing about burying you other half under the patio because he was home half an hour late, is an actual thing..

“Where have you been?”
“I just nipped for my hair cut..”

Followed by a rational conversation, right?


OBVIOUSLY I do what any other normal hormonal woman would do..

Storm into one’s kitchen, bang some cupboard doors and proceed to clean all worktops in an inappropriately aggressive manner, whilst mutter expletives of rage under one’s breath…

Ohhhh. you just nipped?
You just. F*cking. NIPPED to get your hair cut, yeah?

Well, I’ll tell you what, knob head..
I’ve cooked this baby for nine months, been sliced and diced like a cow in a butchers to get him out, sat at home within 4 walls all day because I’m too tired to go anywhere, not to mention my nipples are sore as f*ck and I’ve had a baby dangling off my pap, on demand, at least 5 times today.

I feel like shit. I look like shit.
 And can’t even shave my vag in peace..

But YOU.
YOU… just nipping here, popping there, not a care in the world…

“Babe? are you ok?”

“YES. BABE. Everything is just fucking fine isn’t it?” **

*** Cue wide eyed hormonal rage face ***
(Poor sod)

Now, I’d just like to point out that I love both my babies and, when I’m not plotting his demise for being half an hour late home, I love my fella very much too.

But the post baby situation is hard and it ain’t all ‘relationship goals’.

For a lot of the mums I train, whether they have new babies, toddlers, even the ones that have kids that are teens and beyond, something I hear a lot is this..

“I lost my self when I had my kids”

Now, don’t get this confused, these women LOVE their kids beyond belief and they are, unquestionably, the best little things that have ever happened to them… But it was only yesterday I was talking to one of my Mamas about how she felt she’d lost her own identity post baby, and I totally get it..

Something I learnt post baby, and a mantra that serves me well to this day, is this..

The Queen eats first.
The queen is me, FYI.

Now, here’s the (unfortunate) general consensus..

“Well that’s selfish, your kids should come before anything. You’re kids come first.. shame on you blah blah”

And I get it.
It’s the done thing.
It’s what you’re SUPPOSED to do, right?
It’s the ‘shouldy’ behaviour rearing it’s ugly head.

I often find, there’s a certain amount of shame attached to what you ‘should’be doing ..

Putting yourself after everyone else (even if that means neglecting your own needs and how you feel about yourself).
Relationship goal hashtags (even when you feel like burying the poor sod in the garden)..

Not being the mum that ‘does it all’.
The guilt that you didn’t feed your kids organic everything.
Your body not immediately pinging back to pre baby like everyone else’s seems to.
Going back off maternity too late.. too early.
Deciding not to work.. go back full time.. go back part time.
Breast feeding for too long… not long enough … and Heaven forbid you bottle feed your kids.

**You should be grateful that you can even conceive at all.. so you shouldn’t feel like that .. shouldn’t talk about that… shouldn’t put yourself first…**

Shame. On.  you.

So, what do we do?
We don’t talk about it..

Because we’re worried more about offending someone, somewhere with the reality of how we feel, and actually addressing the shame that comes with it

Now, Interestingly, in my FREE Sistahood Facebook group I asked the question last week of..

“What is your number one priority”

Do you know, not one single person.. Not even one.. said themselves.

Not one answered with ‘Me, I am my number one priority’
One even said ‘My Dog’.

Now, again, I get it, but here’s why The Queen eats first in my house..

If I feel like shit about my self?
If I’m knackered?
If my Inner Bitch is doing backflips with negative self talk based around shame and ‘shouldy’ behavior?
If I’m comparing myself to everyone else’s ‘relationship goals’?
If I’m not taking time out for some ‘me time’?
If I’m neglecting my workouts?
If I’m not eating so well?

If I’m not putting myself FIRST?

Then how can I parent my kids properly?
How can I have a loving relationship when I don’t even feel like I love myself?
How can I be a good role model to my kids when I’m stressed and short with them.
How can I be productive and not feel like I’m not just constantly treading water?

So, my invitation to you today is to stop treating exhaustion and perfectionism as a status symbol and take some time to work on yourself.
To prioritise YOU.
Whatever that looks like, on your own terms.

If ya feel like you need some help, maybe some support and guidance to get you started?

You can check out my Breakthrough Appointment here and we can chat about how to help you find yourself again, Homegirl.

Lotsa love,
Char xx