No, this is not about the weight loss TV show. It’s a bit more personal than that, as weight gain is one of the things raised as an issue between married couples and my marriage was not immune to it.
Barely husband was a sporty person growing up. He did judo, cycling and football and seemed to take pleasure at working out. I absolutely hate working out. Fortunately I was blessed with some good genes that meant I was naturally slim, even with the copious amounts of food I have always loved eating. I eat anything that’s put in front of me and I am not exaggerating. Not that I led a sedentary lifestyle. I did take up some rhythmic gymnastics until I was 12 and I played volleyball until I was 19. That would never be a career, because I’m short as heck, but it was fun playing it with friends. I stopped playing when I went to university because sadly there was no one to play with.
At Uni I did put on a little bit of weight. There was a lot of junk food eaten and not enough exercise. It wasn’t a lot, more like 5 or 6Kg, but with me being so short it did show. I didn’t like the way my clothes were clinging to the wrong places on my body and set myself on a little diet to lose it. It didn’t take too long and, to be honest, it wasn’t that hard. I was almost done with my weight loss when I met barely husband, so he met me at my UK dress size of 6-8.
When we started dating he encouraged me to start going to a gym. I loathe gyms, with all the weight training and the equipment. I did find the Body Systems classes interesting though, so I agreed to go. I took Body Jam, Body Combat and Body Pump (I didn’t mind the rhythmic weight work outs to music). It didn’t take long for him to start skipping it, while I carried on with my schedule. It also didn’t take long for his jealousy to make a special appearance, with him taking a serious dislike to my Body Jam instructor. It was utterly ridiculous. It happened because he saw us chatting after class one day, when I was simply nagging him to lend me the class CD so I could copy it (he wasn’t strictly allowed to do it but did it anyway). Ha!
We had a few fights about it and I ended up dropping it right after we got married. With our new routine in place, I did put some weight on. Again, not that much; just enough to make my clothes cling a little in an unflattering way. What barely husband didn’t see was that he was putting on quite a bit of weight himself. He was extremely stressed at work, doing very long hours and eating a lot of junk. He put on roughly 20Kg, his blood pressure went through the roof and he started taking medication for it.
When the realisation came, the nagging to go back to the gym returned. Again I agreed – to shut him up – again I settled into my routine and again he left it soon after. This cycle repeated itself a few more times, each time with a different gym. I went because he wanted me to, then stayed until the time I spent there became an issue for him.
Sometime in between these cycles I got pregnant. I was one of those sickness cases where it’s not just morning, but all day and all night sickness. I was stick thin and my doctor put me on serious medication to control it as I was dangerously underweight and she told me if it didn’t stop she would have to keep me in hospital. Crap! The medication worked, so I skipped the hospital, but I had to be extremely careful with everything I ate as little girl inside me was very selective of the foods I could and could not eat. As a fun fact, she seriously dislikes any type of creamy soup and that is something I couldn’t touch as it always resulted in a puking trip to the toilet.
I reached the end of my pregnancy looking so fit and slim that, if seen from behind, I had a very thin waist and didn’t look pregnant at all. After Raven was born, I realised how my body had changed. My tummy was not the same, my hips were humongous and I couldn’t fit into a size 6 anymore. Maternity leave did not agree with my weight and I did overeat, putting more on than when I was pregnant. I had a few wobbly bits that weren’t there before and that’s when the nicknames started: fatty, tummy, gutty… you name it! Even though I thought ‘look at yourself’ I never said it. When I mentioned it he said they were loving names, but my confidence was rock bottom. I slept in the baby’s bedroom and did not get close to him for ages. I began to hate how I looked and hid behind my books, reading stories that would take my mind off my issues. Of course he blamed the books, not his attitude.
That’s when we had our first big fight and ‘divorce’ crossed my mind. With a baby in my hands that was not something to take easily and we made up.
After a couple of years I decided to diet again and my weigh went down nicely, to a point where I could squeeze myself into a size 6 if I wanted to, though uncomfortably. My body wasn’t as nice as before but we went on a beach holiday and he finally realised I wasn’t in such a bad shape. I was comfortably wearing a bikini and had one of the best bodies around comparing to people my age then (mid 30s).
In my yo-yo ways, I am probably at my heaviest now. My BMI is still a healthy 23 (it’s 21 when I’m at my slimmest) and his has gone up to 32. He’s been so focused on criticising me that he’s completely forgotten about looking after himself.
Somehow the fact that he can’t follow the diet I suggested (or any diet plan) is my fault. I sigh and carry on. Sod it! I will only worry about me being happy.