"I'd rather be a bit squishy then spending 5 days a week at a gym"

I've been a size 12 since I was around 16, gaining and losing a few pounds here and there, but always a size 12. I've got a bit of an odd body shape, imagine getting a ball of dough and squashing it with the palm of your hand, that's me. I'm wide, I have big hips, bum and thighs, but I am flat. I don't have much of a tummy and my boobs are of average size, a nice handful.

I've tried diets over the years, I've tried getting into running - but I'm not someone to continue something they don't enjoy. I don't enjoy running, or other athletic sports for that matter, I can't even afford a gym membership. What I do enjoy is swimming and surfing, rock climbing and roller blading, adventurous sports. Not the most accessible of sports at the best of times.

I also like food, I love tasting new flavours and trying new things. This isn't to say you'll find me devouring a whole pot of ice cream in one go or binging on burgers. I know what's good and bad for me, I know what my portion sizes should be, do I indulge every now and then? Of course I do, who doesn't? My weakness is biscuits, I bloody love those things!

But still most days, I find myself looking in the mirror going, "why can't this bit be smaller?"... "why do my hips have to be so round?"... "why can't I look like her, or her?"... "how is anyone going to fall for me if my thighs are this big?"

I've not exactly been lacking in male attention over the past year or so, I've had compliments about the parts of me I hate the most. Yet I still can't knock these hatred thoughts from my head, please do not get this wrong, I'm not throwing a line into the sea awaiting you all to compliment the shit out of me. It's just been one of those days where I can't look at any part of me and think it looks good. It also doesn't help that I have a magazine next to me with Alexa stick thin Chung on the front cover.

But why? Why do I and so many others do this too ourselves? I tell myself frequently that I should shed the flabby bits, but then I'm split in thinking I'm going to be bloody miserable while I do it and will I really be happy by the end of it?

I have friends who are squishy and I have friends who are tiny, all of whom seem happy with themselves. I guess I just need some tips in having a body boost, any ideas?

I'm now going to go open that packet of hobnobs and bloody enjoy them.

The problem with needing adventure.

I am not a patient person. If I get an idea in my head I do it, when I wanted dip dye hair two years ago I just went into the hairdressers and got it done. I fancied an undercut, so I grabbed my dad's clippers. I hated my last job, so I quit it, even though I was moving into a new flat and didn't even know if I'd make the first months rent. I get bored very quickly and I change my mind often, I've had more dream careers in the past few years than I ever thought possible.

I like adventure, I grew up by the sea amongst the fields and spent my childhood exploring and just taking in the outdoors and everything it holds. I now find comfort in going on long walks through forests, strapping my surfboard to the top of my car and heading to the ocean. I enjoy long drives, (even though I have panic attacks if I get the slightest bit lost), but I like knowing I have 3 hours of road and the best mixtape to soundtrack my journey, wherever I may be going.

But right now? Right now I'm stuck. My car needs fixing (okay it's my fault for not yet booking it in to the garage), so I can't travel anywhere. Even if it was working a-okay I have no money for petrol, my last pay packet has just about covered me in terms of rent, bills and food. I haven't seen anyone new in far too long, don't get me wrong, I love the guys I work with and I bloody love my flatmates but my life has been a circle of seeing them all, just on varying days. I haven't had an adventure, as such in a long, long time. Rewind a few months ago and I was here there and everywhere, my own personal tour of the UK. Cardiff, Bath, Cheltenham, London, Brighton... and I was happy, I was so happy.

I haven't been to see my friends in Cardiff since November, I've had a few quick visits to london to catch up with people and a brief visit to Essex for a night out. But they are at least a month ago now. OKAY that doesn't sound that long ago, but like I said, I'm inpatient. When I feel like this, when I feel alone, all I want to do is get in my car and drive, drive anywhere, just out of this dead end city, see the people I adore and forget about all the worries I have. Don't we all just need to escape sometimes?

The thing is, I don't know when I will be able to escape. I don't know when I'll stop feeling like this. I have no motivation to apply for any jobs because I get rejected from so many and I feel out of the loop in regards to music, when in reality I'm probably a hell of a lot more in the loop than a lot of people I know. I'm trying to drag myself out of this hell of self-pity and sort myself out, but it feels like the little devil of life keeps pulling me back. Throwing more things my way so I don't leave.

I just want to see some different faces. I just want adventure.