For the past 13 years I’ve struggled with my weight. After I gave birth to my daughter I went back to my original weight of 115. I stayed that way for about a year and only gained about 5 pounds the year after. For those 2 years after my daughter was born me and A1 were living with his parents. Although we fought at times, his abuse wasn’t that open. I realize now that had a lot to do with us living with his parents. We got married when our daughter was 2. About a month and a half after our wedding day we officially moved into the house we bought together. Life seemed amazing. At 24 years old I had an amazing little girl, I was married to someone I thought was my perfect mate, and we owned our own house. Little did I know that once we lived on our own, A1’s true colors would come out and the abuse would be more open. I had always brushed off those small digs at me and my family before. They started getting worse. “You’re getting a little junk in your trunk I see” turned into “you’re really letting yourself go.” It’s worth mentioning that when A1 was telling me I was fat and that I must not care about myself, I weighed a whopping 125 pounds and wore a size 4. He actually had the audacity to scoff at me and call me fat once because I needed to buy a small sized shirt instead of an extra small. I weighed 125 and he would tell me I shouldn’t wear certain things and let my fat hang out. As I fell deeper into depression,. I ate more and gained more weight.
When I finally left A1 I weighed 130. Over the course of the next 4 years I only gained about 5 pounds. While the relationship I was in didn’t work out, it wasn’t horrible and he certainly wasn’t abusive. Things just didn’t work. Toward the end of our relationship I did shoot up to 140, but that’s because I knew in my heart things were over and I would binge eat because of it.
When A2 came along I thought I was happy again. He was charming at first and he managed to weasel his way into my life. I was happy enough that we were both ok with me coming off birth control (the pill just doesn’t agree with me and I was having major blood pressure issues). When I became pregnant with our son I only weighed about 145. Which was pretty good considering I had miscarried twins a few months prior. During my pregnancy I had a rough time. I had numerous complications and my weight topped out at 196 before I gave birth. Luckily it was a good deal of water weight and after I gave birth I lost most of it.
After our son was born the red flags with A2 started popping up all over the place. I ended up needing an emergency c-section so I was in a lot of pain. A2 still refused to officially move in with me and stayed with his mom who lived down the street. He also refused to help me with the baby. He’d come over for maybe 30 minutes a day to hug the baby and take a picture with him for Facebook. When I called him on it, he went off on me and stormed out. I was left alone to care for an infant after having major abdominal surgery. The days my daughter was home from her dad’s house she was an amazing helper. My 11 year old child was more help with her infant brother then her brother’s dad was. She would feed him, help me change him, or even just watch him for an hour so I could sleep. Things the other parent is supposed to help you with.
Eventually A2 was forced to move in when his mom decided to move out of state and back home. What possessed me to stick with him after all that? Fear. Fear of being alone. Fear of having yet ANOTHER failed relationship under my belt. 2 kids with 2 different fathers and I would be with neither of them? What would people say? Fuck people. I don’t care what they say.
Once A2 moved the weight gain started back up again. Any time I mentioned it he’d tell me I looked fine and that most people gained weight when they were in a good relationship because they were comfortable. He said I was just fat and happy. When I mentioned that I was not one of those people who gained weight when I was happy, that I usually lost weight or stayed around the same weight when I was happy, he told me I was wrong and lost his shit. I was miserable and I gained 28 pounds when I was with A2.
The good news is, I’m happy now. I’m down 16 pounds since I kicked A2 to the curb. I still have a ways to go, but I’m on the right track. I won’t let my weight be a toll for abuse anymore.