Hunger [H.S]

Hello Frankie!

Long before she met him, she had an inkling something extraordinary was going to happen to her. Granted, she thought she might be struck by lightning or hit by a meteor, but she knew something grand would happen to her, and she would cease to be invisible to the world.

Frankie Evans was a 29-year-old, single woman, living in Cheshunt, a suburb to London. A bright, kind and sturdy young woman, the latter causing a lifelong struggle with self acceptance.

***

She had always been a little rounder and a little curvier than the other girls. School photos from KS2 and KS3 bore witness to her obvious roundness compared to her best friends, who were small and dainty with long, blonde hair, blue eyes and thin arms. She had always loved her friends, but she envied them. Where they were dainty and light, she was robust and dark. Her hair was dark brown, wavy and at times very unruly. During the summer months her friends would wear pretty summer dresses, short sleeves and short shorts. Frankie had to wear her clothes bigger than theirs, and time and time again she would look at herself in the mirror and feel disappointed. Even when she occasionally got a pretty dress, it wouldn't look pretty on her, like it did on the other girls. Everything fit wrongly; too tight in some places, exceptionally loose in others.

"Frankie, we'll simply start a diet," her well-meaning mother would suggest, and she'd cook from the WeightWatchers cookbook, while Frankie and her dad would grimace behind her back, not at all impressed with vegetable soup and ice water for their tea.

Frankie's dad would attempt to motivate her to lose weight by paying her a pound per pound lost. He would also take her out to get some exercise by playing football with her in the park. That was all he knew about sports; football. "Don't reckon lifting a pint at the pub counts as exercise," he would chuckle and nudged her shoulder. He was kind, her dad. She loved him, and she knew he meant well. Somehow, a lot of the things he said and did, just ended up scarring her a little. Tiny invisible bruises on her self confidence. He didn't mean to, he just didn't know any better.

It was the same with her mum, but sometimes she was harder to forgive for all the tiny bruises. Like when she insisted that Frankie wouldn't be getting a birthday cake, because they were on a diet. Mum would happily cut some vegetables into bite sized pieces and they could munch on those at her birthday party. What 12-year-old girl doesn't serve cake for her birthday? Well, Frankie Evans didn't.

Generally Frankie's teen years had been a diet. Others had a riot, but Frankie had a diet. Her mum would constantly find some new miracle diet, that was proven to solve all troubles and extra pounds. But the outcome was always the same; Frankie failed, and felt like a fiasco. She lost very few pounds, and almost immediately gained them again.

Her parents insisted that she enjoyed herself, just like her friends. So she tagged along to parties, pubs, discos, festivals and concerts. Always the quiet and funny girl, who held the other girls' handbags, as they went out to snog boys. Frankie would wait patiently at the bus stop, while her friends were in the bushes, being felt up by the boys Frankie fancied. She would listen to her friends giggle about having french kissed someone, or how it felt to have someone touch your boob under the top. Frankie listened and learned, but never practised. 

She had her first kiss in high school. She was kissed by a boy named Benjamin. Benjamin was a nice boy, he did really well in school and he got along with most of the other kids, but he was not a boy she had dreamt about or had any interest in. They were at a party where some of the other boys had found it funny to pour lots of beer and vodka on Benjamin, and he was drunk as a skunk. He spotted Frankie, someone he recognised, and he went over and sat down next to her, drunkenly conversing about algebra. One thing led to another and he had kissed her, softly at first and then a sloppy, wet kiss with way too much tongue. He tasted like beer and curry.

Frankie spent that entire weekend working up the courage to ask Benjamin, if he would like to go to the cinema. But on Monday, he didn't look her in the eyes and he walked past her, obviously avoiding her. Frankie saw a couple of the other boys laughing and looking her way. They had probably bullied Benjamin for kissing the fat girl from class, and now he wanted nothing to do with her.

***

When Frankie went off to study accounting at The University of Manchester, she left behind a lot of the friends, and acquaintances, she had spent time with through her childhood years. Frankie wanted her Uni time to be a new start in life, where she would be more open and positive towards herself. She was going to be open to meeting new people and possibly meeting someone special. She felt like the only girl in the world, who hadn't had a boyfriend, and who had only been kissed once in her life. She hadn't been touched and her virginity was very much still intact. 

During the three years she studied in Manchester, she made new, closer friends. She found kindred spirits, with similar interests, who were supportive and kind to her, when she struggled to be kind to herself. She still held handbags in the pubs and clubs, but she engaged in more conversations with guys and people seemed to find her funny and charming, but there wasn't the pull towards her, like there was to her friends. She had a short fling with an exchange student from Spain, who was only in the country for 12 weeks. His name was Rafael, and he ended up being her first sexual partner. It was not a relationship with any prospects, but it gave her a small boost of confidence, that she desperately needed. It changed her view on herself from being absolutely undesirable, to being interesting to some guys, not the general male population, but at least to someone. The confidence she didn't have in herself, she found in fleeting moments with men, who gave her the attention she felt she had missed out on. Deep down she knew it wasn't a healthy way to deal with her lacking self worth, but there was a part of her that desperately wanted to feel, what her friends had felt since they were teenagers; she wanted to feel desired. 

***

Her mum and dad were proud that she got herself an education, but they really wanted her to stay close to Wigan, where she grew up. She was their only child, and they had a hard time letting her go. But Frankie needed her freedom, and she moved to Cheshunt with Ruth, a friend from Uni. She felt the sting of guilt leaving her parents behind, but she needed to do something for herself. She needed to start a new chapter somewhere else, where Frumpy Frankie, was a memory. London had always been her dream. The vibrant, cultural city with a wealth of museums, galleries, theaters, and music venues. A metropolis with a diverse culture that offered a blend of history, culture, innovation, and global connectivity, making it an exciting place to live. It would be the perfect place to start over and possibly meet more open-minded people, who saw more than the exterior. 

Frankie and Ruth moved into a small flat in Cheshunt. It was a rental, situated on the first floor of a building that housed an off-licence. It was a small two-bedroom flat with a tiny kitchen and sittingroom. But to Frankie, it was heaven on earth. They spent a lot of time decorating the place, making it into their own space. Frankie painted her room green and decorated it with lots of plants and pictures she had taken during her Uni years. She loved photography and would spend hours walking around taking pictures on her days off. 

She got a job as an accountant, working in the public education sector. It wasn't the most well-paid job, but Frankie enjoyed it and grew fond of her colleagues, as time passed. She saw several good colleagues move onto different, more prominent areas, with a more lucrative annual pay, but Frankie wasn't unhappy with what she had.

***

And so time passed at its own steady pace. Ruth found a boyfriend and moved out, and a new roommate moved in, Pascal from Belgium. Pascal stayed for a year and was replaced by Mette from Denmark, who stayed for a couple of years, before she returned home. Abigail, 'Abi', moved in, and quickly became Frankie's most trusted friend. 

Abi worked in a nursing home, and was an eclectic, creative type, who dressed alternatively and was very open-minded about everything. She changed haircolour often, and would happily cut her own hair on a whim, changing her appearance. She was extremely comfortable in her own skin, and never judged anyone for their appearance. Frankie found her to be a breath of fresh air, a very needed positive inspiration.

Through Abi, Frankie found a new group of friends, who were individualistic and alternative, and the kindest people she had ever met. They did all sorts of things together, and the void Frankie thought she had felt because of a lack of a love interest, was filled by a group of people, who loved her for who she was, and who always made her feel special. 

And so Frankie was 29 years old when life took a turn, and something extraordinary almost tripped her. Literally.