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Your Past does not have to be your Future

💣🤐😰(I have NEVER shared this childhood story before)😰

I walked home, shoulders slumped, tears rolling down my face mixing with the offending liquid dripping from my hair.

I was angry. So very Angry. More angry than I have ever been.

More humiliated than I have ever been.

Feeling the most rejected I have ever felt.


I can close my eyes right now and still smell that foul odour 20 years later like it just happened to me today.

I was 14 years old.

I had been bullied throughout my time in secondary school ever since James K found out I was welsh.

The whole school found out hours later and now the bullies had an angle for the bullying to intensify.

I hid a lot in school. 
I knew the school layout like a war map.

The ‘friendly areas; Library, Dinner ladies supervision steps. science classrooms.

The ‘Danger areas; The ‘maze’. The school fields. The hallways.

I moved around that school like a fucking SAS soldier dropped into enemy lines.

I knew the type of environment I was in and what would happen to me if I was ‘caught’.

Drawing pins are a pretty good substitute for bullets when your 13 years old.

Like I said, I knew the environment.

Which is why I should of known better when one of the pretty popular girls started talking to me and invited me to hang out with her after school that day.

Maybe I let my guard down.

Maybe I was just tired of the grind and hoped against hope, she saw something in me that wasn't the ‘sheep shagging loser’ everyone else had labeled me for years.

So I said yes.

I went to meet her in Highbridge. 
At the town clock, next to the cattle farm.

I arrived first. 
No sign of her. 
10 minutes went by. 15 mins. 
I took it for the prank it was. 
You wasted my evening. 
What an idiot to believe something nice would have happened to me.

So I got up to leave.

But then there she was.

“Hey Adam!” she said, smiling widely.

Oh my god! Maybe this is going to be the day my life gets better.

A popular friend! Someone good and kind I can….hang on, who’s what?

Behind her there was a boy.
A popular boy. 
Someone I have had run ins with before.

“What is he doing here?”

It’s ok Adam, he is nice really. 
He just wanted to come and make up with you and be friends too”

Hmmm…my spideysenses tell me to run.

But my want for that story to be true kept me glued in place.

“Yeah sorry about all that stuff mate. My bad!” said the boy.

“OK’ I said.

The next 15 mins was one of the nicest times I had in school. We all sat and chatted. I told them about life in Wales. They asked questions and seemed genuinely interested.

I relaxed. 

The Girl said “Oh we brought something for you to take home. A friendship gift.”

“What do you mean?” I said with a hint of alarm in my voice.

“Its a gift Adam, don’t you want it?”

I was worried about losing my new found friends.

“Oh yeah I do, thanks!”

“OK” said the girl. “Close your eyes and i'll put it on you”

And so I did.

I was willing to go against years of instinct to run and protect myself in order to win a chance of new friends and acceptance.

And then…


It hit me like a wave, overloading my sense at first and leaving me confused as to what was happening.

It was cold & It was wet was my fist thought and then my other senses caught up.

It smelled. 

I looked up to see the boy and girl finish pouring the last of a 6 litre bottle of rotten milk over my head.

The smell.

I fought the urge to throw up and won that battle…barely.

I looked at my attackers with confusion and betrayal in my eyes.

I couldn’t say anything.

All I could think was “Yep, this now makes sense"

NOT ‘why?’ ‘Cause I knew why.
I was the short, fat, poor, welsh kid. Why NOT me!

I got up slowly to the sound of them both laughing.

The look of glee on their faces; an exact contrast to my own.

I left. 
Physically unharmed save the smell but mentally scarred for life.

👉But I want you to take a lesson from my experience.

IF you are overweight and, like my 14 year old self, feel you are in a constant battle with your weight and the world...

You will probably found that when you have let your guard down and took a chance against your better judgment, like I did , you too ended up being humiliated and covered in sour milk.

Your ‘sour milk’ may be trying a diet that fails and you gain more weight and feel hopless.

Your ‘sour milk’ may be not being to tell anyone how you eat late at night after everyone else is asleep and can’t that you stop it.

Your ‘sour milk’ may be knowing you feel so unconfident that you can’t even entertain the idea of dating…that you feel so self conscious at the beach in your swimwear that you make excuses not to participate .

👉I want you to know this.

Shortly after this milk attack, I met some really good friends in school. 
A bunch of odd balls that protected me both literally and figuratively from attacks through school.

These soon to be friends asked if I wanted to go to the park after school one day.

I took the Risk. 
I am glad my past experience didn’t stop me. 
I am still good friends with these 6 awesome people.



👊IF you can take ONE MORE RISK then I can help you.

👊I will help you get the help you need. 
👊Either from myself or someone better suited.

I promise I will stop you getting covered in sour milk.

🤚Just send me the word ‘milk’ in a pm or in the comments.

Lets change your story.