The Small Thing I Did — The Honest, Slightly Awkward Version

Okay — I’m writing this like I’d tell a mate over a cuppa. Not a polished essay. Just what happened, in plain words.

Why I finally did it (spoiler: it was tiny things)

It wasn’t a big “hate my body” moment. It was little stuff. Tugging my top down in the middle of a meeting. Avoiding one dress at the back of the wardrobe. Choosing photos from the “safe” side only. Ridiculous, right? But those tiny habits kept stealing brainspace until one night I thought, “I’m done letting this be my background noise.”

Booking — I almost chickened out

I did the usual: panic-Google at 2 a.m., read five contradictory threads, and then phoned. The person on the phone listened. That mattered. If they’d tried to sell me fireworks, I’d have hung up. Calm, honest answers — that’s what made me go in the end.

The session — awkward, cold, then numb

They stick a gel pad on. Then the applicator clamps. First minute: weird suction and a sharp cold that makes you breathe in. Then — mercifully — it numbs. I scrolled my phone like a normal person (yes, really). There’s a short massage at the end that makes you go “ow” for a second, and then you’re done.

The tiny, weird details nobody tells you

You walk out red and a little swollen. You buy milk on the way home because life doesn’t stop for procedures. You feel oddly proud that you actually did the thing. It’s human. It’s not dramatic. It’s fine.

The waiting — patience not glamour

This is the boring bit. You don’t get an overnight reveal. For a couple of weeks I checked the mirror like an idiot. Nothing. Then one morning my jeans closed easier. Little wins. No fanfare. That’s when I realised it had worked.

Why slow is okay

Slow results look real. People don’t gawp and point. They say, “You look nice” — quietly. That’s nicer, honestly.

The unexpected thing — less mental noise

The best bit wasn’t the centimetres. It was that I stopped thinking about it all day. I stopped tugging my top. I didn’t edit photos automatically. That tiny relief felt huge.

If you’re thinking about this — some blunt advice

• Ask dumb questions. They’re not dumb — ask them. How many sessions? What’s normal to feel? What’s aftercare?
• Pick someone who listens. The human you talk to matters more than the machine they use.
• Be patient. Results take weeks, not days. Bring snacks for the wait (kidding — but also not).
• Do it for you. Not for anyone else’s opinion.

If you want a calm chat about options (no hype, no pressure), I started by talking to someone who actually answered my awkward questions. If you want the place I used: la-lipo.co.uk.