I found the below on my hard drive this morning; I'd written it about a year ago. I hesitated to post it after I wrote it because as time goes on and the net becomes more and more about revealing every little hair on every little part of your head, less is more and this is fairly personal. However, I thought someone would enjoy reading, and maybe get something out of it. Your thoughts welcome.
A time to gain, a time to lose.
She slowly shrinks. The belly, once so delightfully full and round, is now smaller. Still jiggly and soft, but smaller. The face takes on an ever-so angular visage. I can see the bone structure. Everything is the same, but everything is smaller.
Its nothing drastic; there havent been any declarations, stated goals or militantism. Shes just joined a gym and loves it, and has started going 2-3 times a week. She also eats more fresh things. Its been 12 years since our blind date, 7 since we walked down the aisle.
She looks terrific, not just because of the weight change, but because she feels stronger, and knows she is doing the right thing by moving her body a few times a week to counteract the 10 and 11 hours a day she spends at a desk. Also, at every opportunity, shell walk. It used to be tough to get her to walk even a couple of blocks. But her Dad died at 42 of a heart attack. She needs to take care of that heart, those organs, that body. I got her a bicycle recently. If she wants to use it, she can, if not, its there for her whenever.
So how do I feel about the shrinkage, as a man who deliberately sought a woman of size as a life partner? I feel a variety of things, same as I did as she gained weight through the years.
As she got bigger, I felt silently lucky, and turned on---as well as a little frightened for her health. I also felt protective of her. Some people werent so nice with the comments---people on the street. The family said nothing, except behind our backs, I learned later after my father was put in the ground last year.
And now?
I am twice as crazy for her. Who'd have thought? Isn't weight loss, for an FA, a deal-killer?
Why...no. Quite the opposite, in fact.
She is by no means skinny and never will be. She will probably jiggle all over, forever, and thats a nice thought.
But in the end, it is her body, not mine. I just choose to spend my life with this person, and she with me. Her fat is irrelevant. What does it matter in the whole scope of a life partnership, a life of triumph and disaster, jobs lost and gotten, of address changes and arguments and laughter and death and sickness and health? There was a time when we had no food for three days and no money to buy any with. All we had was each other, and there we sat in that tiny, dark apartment, pep talking each other. Some day, we said, It wont be like this. And almost at the same time, both our lives took off together and individually, and today, lack of money isnt an issue. We are not financially set for life, but neither are we scraping to get by.
Neither of us knows how much she has lost, neither one cares, because it isnt about the numbers. It used to be about the numbers, for me, knowing her weight and her belly measurements. I used to take pride in my head that my wife weighed as much as she did. Used to congratulate myself, like it was an accomplishment.
But its time to move to the next phase, and that is that she is doing as she wishes, and if I am who I say I am, I say nothing about the weight loss, same as I kept silent at the gain. If she wants to talk about it, I am available. If not, I will keep silent. It's her body. Size acceptance doesn't mean "Size acceptance as long as you are over 200 pounds." It's not "acceptance", either---that sounds like knuckling under. It's more "You are who you are regardless of weight, and I will come with you on whatever journey you're on."
For some reason, on a variety of levels---mental, emotional, spiritual and physical---this person fascinates me, drives me crazy, and her weight change hasn't affected that at all. I am a devil dog and she is a chubby nymph to be chased, spoiled, wooed and won, every day. When we said our vows, I promised to be her boyfriend as well as her husband, til death did us part. A boyfriend brings flowers, cooks breakfast, leaves little notes in her purse where she can find them, and does other things that say I care, and what are you doing tonight? Come with me and let's live, skip, laugh, be silly, cry, growl, and everything in between.
And every now and then, I will catch the sight of her across a store or coming out of our building while I wait for her in the car, and say, "Who is that beautiful stranger?"
A time to gain, a time to lose.
She slowly shrinks. The belly, once so delightfully full and round, is now smaller. Still jiggly and soft, but smaller. The face takes on an ever-so angular visage. I can see the bone structure. Everything is the same, but everything is smaller.
Its nothing drastic; there havent been any declarations, stated goals or militantism. Shes just joined a gym and loves it, and has started going 2-3 times a week. She also eats more fresh things. Its been 12 years since our blind date, 7 since we walked down the aisle.
She looks terrific, not just because of the weight change, but because she feels stronger, and knows she is doing the right thing by moving her body a few times a week to counteract the 10 and 11 hours a day she spends at a desk. Also, at every opportunity, shell walk. It used to be tough to get her to walk even a couple of blocks. But her Dad died at 42 of a heart attack. She needs to take care of that heart, those organs, that body. I got her a bicycle recently. If she wants to use it, she can, if not, its there for her whenever.
So how do I feel about the shrinkage, as a man who deliberately sought a woman of size as a life partner? I feel a variety of things, same as I did as she gained weight through the years.
As she got bigger, I felt silently lucky, and turned on---as well as a little frightened for her health. I also felt protective of her. Some people werent so nice with the comments---people on the street. The family said nothing, except behind our backs, I learned later after my father was put in the ground last year.
And now?
I am twice as crazy for her. Who'd have thought? Isn't weight loss, for an FA, a deal-killer?
Why...no. Quite the opposite, in fact.
She is by no means skinny and never will be. She will probably jiggle all over, forever, and thats a nice thought.
But in the end, it is her body, not mine. I just choose to spend my life with this person, and she with me. Her fat is irrelevant. What does it matter in the whole scope of a life partnership, a life of triumph and disaster, jobs lost and gotten, of address changes and arguments and laughter and death and sickness and health? There was a time when we had no food for three days and no money to buy any with. All we had was each other, and there we sat in that tiny, dark apartment, pep talking each other. Some day, we said, It wont be like this. And almost at the same time, both our lives took off together and individually, and today, lack of money isnt an issue. We are not financially set for life, but neither are we scraping to get by.
Neither of us knows how much she has lost, neither one cares, because it isnt about the numbers. It used to be about the numbers, for me, knowing her weight and her belly measurements. I used to take pride in my head that my wife weighed as much as she did. Used to congratulate myself, like it was an accomplishment.
But its time to move to the next phase, and that is that she is doing as she wishes, and if I am who I say I am, I say nothing about the weight loss, same as I kept silent at the gain. If she wants to talk about it, I am available. If not, I will keep silent. It's her body. Size acceptance doesn't mean "Size acceptance as long as you are over 200 pounds." It's not "acceptance", either---that sounds like knuckling under. It's more "You are who you are regardless of weight, and I will come with you on whatever journey you're on."
For some reason, on a variety of levels---mental, emotional, spiritual and physical---this person fascinates me, drives me crazy, and her weight change hasn't affected that at all. I am a devil dog and she is a chubby nymph to be chased, spoiled, wooed and won, every day. When we said our vows, I promised to be her boyfriend as well as her husband, til death did us part. A boyfriend brings flowers, cooks breakfast, leaves little notes in her purse where she can find them, and does other things that say I care, and what are you doing tonight? Come with me and let's live, skip, laugh, be silly, cry, growl, and everything in between.
And every now and then, I will catch the sight of her across a store or coming out of our building while I wait for her in the car, and say, "Who is that beautiful stranger?"
