June 2nd 2020
My weight has always been a sensitive topic for me.
Ever since I was a child, and my mother would call me chubby and put me on fad diets.
I always tried to watch what I ate and how much.
She never made sense to me. My body was always too fat for her, but she would use food as a comfort solution instead of offering any emotional support.
If I had a bad day and she was too high to process the complexity of communicating, she’d give me junk food as a way to be supportive.
When I made the decision a few years ago to finally get into shape, I thought my self-esteem would stay high.
Craig has always called me beautiful, but one thing he doesn’t like is if I sit on his lap, due to the weight loss, my ass is too bony for him, and it digs into his thighs.
However, over the past few weeks, due to the stress of being understaffed at work and fatigue from the long hours, I haven’t been able to eat as healthily as I normally would or stick to an exercise routine.
When I stepped on the scale and saw that I had gained fifteen pounds, at first I wanted to cry.
And as much as I was hoping Craig wouldn’t see it as a negative, last night proved that wasn’t true.
It had been a while since our last date due to my hours.
By the time I was getting home in the evening, walking riley and showering were about all I could manage to do before crawling into bed.
Last night, he picked me up to take me out to eat, slightly upset that I wasn’t wearing the dress he had asked me to wear.
I told him I had simply gained a little weight, and even though it fit, it was no longer comfortable for me to wear.
Instead, I had put on a dress I felt comfortable in.
It was still pretty, at least to me, but Craig didn’t agree with my explanation.
When we got to the restaurant, he ordered our food while I was in the bathroom.
After a long week of a new receptionist overbooking the veterinarian, I was excited to be getting a decent meal.
He didn’t tell me what he ordered for me at first, but said it was a surprise.
With how well he knew what meals I liked, I was excited to see what he picked.
My heart sank when I saw it was a salad with no dressing, not even on the side.
He asked me if I was unappreciative of the fact that he was trying to help me lose the weight I had gained.
I smiled and bit the inside of my lip to distract myself from crying, the pain the only comfort I could find at the moment.
I shouldn’t have told myself the weight gain was attractive; I knew better than that.
He was only trying to help me after all.
I promised him I would manage my food better, despite the fact that it would mean losing some of the sleep I was already running low on.