I gained a lot of weight with my first pregnancy. I don’t mean a lot of weight like I went slightly over the recommended amount of weight gain, I mean a lot of weight like I actually came close to doubling my weight and gaining a whole other person. I went from a svelte 112 pounds of pure, toned muscle to 204 pounds of baby-carrying gloriousness. There were several reasons for this: normal pregnancy weight gain, medicine-induced weight gain, and an insatiable appetite for hot wings followed by a daily dose of warm peanut butter cookies, all came into play. Before the baby, I could eat my weight in pizza and never gain an ounce. Turns out, that talent never came back into my life and I had to enter the wonderful world of dieting. Oh, that’s a rough go of it no matter what your background is, but since restraint in eating was never a thought in my mind before, I found it a confounding thing to deal with at this point.
I lost about 40 pounds or so in the first year. Not too shabby, especially considering that for a normal pregnancy, that would have brought me back to pre baby weight. But, I was never one to be trapped in the world of normal, so I still had about 60 to go. Well, let’s say 50 since I have never, and will never return to 112 pounds. While that was a normal, healthy weight for me when my metabolism supported it, at 5’7″, it would take a serious eating disorder for me to get back to it ever again. Not gonna happen, and for reasons of health, I really don’t want it to. Anyway, I spent the next year fighting my way through about another 25 pounds, and that’s when I hit my plateau. I sat at 135-140 for a very, very long time. It’s not a bad weight, by any means. I was well within a healthy range, and at a size 7, I didn’t look half bad. Maybe even pretty good, considering how much I still got flirted with! Except by my ex-husband… and that’s where the problems started. Okay, not all the problems, by any means. If you’ve read my earlier confession, then you know our marriage had some pretty terrible problems, but this is the one I will label the “My Marriage and My Weight” problem.
My ex really missed my pre baby body. I didn’t think anybody on earth could possibly miss it as much as I did, but alas, I was wrong. He was very concerned with my weight and he wanted to help. How nice! I never asked him to be my accountability partner for my workout, but he appointed himself as such. “Did you go to the gym today during lunch? No? Why not?” Nor did I ask him to keep track of what I ate, but he did that too. “You know you’re never going to lose weight if you keep eating cookies!” I suppose maybe he thought that by commenting on the hotness of skinny chicks, I would be motivated to look like them. Perhaps he thought that by leering at the ladies of the internet, I would understand where his attractions lie and work my hardest to fit into that model. He was just trying to help!
Yeah, I’m calling shenanigans. He acted like a complete horse’s hind quarters! I mean seriously, if this is you I am describing here (and I’m talking about the behavior, I know you’re not my ex), if this is how you behave to your spouse (male or female) – KNOCK IT OFF!! You are not helping. In fact, you are doing the complete and total opposite. You are tearing your spouse down to the point where he or she cannot possibly function normally.
Knowing that my ex was not attracted to me destroyed my self esteem. The one person I wanted to attract, was not attracted to me. There was not enough makeup, hairspray, or Spanx in the world that could make me look in the mirror and like myself, or feel in the smallest way pretty. I felt like nothing I could ever do would make him feel the way he once did about me. So, what was the point? Sure, I could lose every ounce I had gained. I might make myself sick doing it, but it could be done. It still wouldn’t give me back my pre baby body; things move when you’re pregnant, and they don’t go back no matter how much weight is lost. And one thing that ain’t gonna happen is a a reversal of time. I age every. single. year. Good luck with fixing that one!
You know what counting all my calories did? Made me want to eat another cookie, cause, um, screw you, I’m a grown woman and will eat whatever I choose! And that whole checking up on my workout thing? Yeah, guilt just makes you feel bad and feeling bad is not a motivator. Ever.
You know what’s awesome? I don’t deal with that anymore. I had to go through a divorce, a serious depression, and a complete rebuilding of my life to get there, but I don’t feel that way anymore. Is that what you want from your marriage? A wife who looks in the mirror and detests what she sees? A husband who has to get away from you, to divorce you, in order to have a shred of self respect or a sense of self worth? No? Then, let me tell you how things work now, because things are pretty amazing at this point in my life.
My husband loves me. It’s just that simple. He has an unconditional, forever love that he shows me openly and generously. He does this by not looking at other women. His eyes, his attraction, are for me. He shares his love by telling me I’m beautiful. When I have taken the time to get all dolled up for him, he takes the time to notice and compliment me. If I don’t work out, or if I eat the cookie, he doesn’t say a word. When I brag about a workout or a weight loss, he tells me what a great job I’ve done. He makes me feel wanted, attractive and loved.
The security I have found in my marriage has made every bit of difference in my life. He is my safe harbor and I know that I can go to him about anything, even my weight, and feel secure. And, speaking of, how is my weight? It’s where I want it to be.
