I had always had a problem with my weight but managed to keep it under control throughout my teens and until I was 23. After a four year relationship, my fiancé Mike and I split up for minor reasons and I was devastated. I lost contact with a lot of my friends and food became my comfort. I moved away to another state to start over and before I knew it I had ballooned from a slim size 10 to a size 22 and I felt horrible. I was terrified of bumping into someone that I used to know, mostly for the fear that they would go back and tell Mike how ugly I looked now.
One day I was at the mall when I heard my name. I wish I didn’t turn and look but I did. It was Mike’s sister, Jane, who was running toward me with a slight look of surprise in her eyes as she eyed me up and down. I felt naked under her stare and wished I could crawl away and die.
“Hi,” smiled Jane. She explained to me that she was in town Christmas shopping and then went on to say that she was surprised to see me because no-one had heard from me for ages. I was just about to tell her I had been busy with work and a few other things before she blew me away by reaching out and touching my rounded belly under the baggy shirt I was wearing. She squealed, “How come you never let us know you were pregnant?”
I was shocked and disgusted at the same time. Had my body grown so much that people would suspect I was pregnant? I looked down at my body and realized that it had. My heart was beating so fast and I felt so ashamed that I couldn’t simply let her know I was just plain fat now. Before I knew it I was making up a complete lie, telling her about my “boyfriend” named Tom and how we were keeping things quiet because we weren’t married yet. As I talked, everything inside of me said to stop and just tell her I had put on weight in the last few years since Mike and I had split up. But if I had blurted out the truth I would have looked even crazier than I actually was to go this far, if that was possible.
Anyway, we had a coffee and talked about my plans with “Tom”, the baby and the future. Jane asked for my telephone number and then we said our goodbyes. I thought that was the last of my little lie and thought no more about it.
Three days after seeing Jane I had a phone call from my mother, crying, asking me why I hadn’t told her I was in a relationship and pregnant. My heart almost jumped out of my throat and I told her that I had been ashamed to tell her. She told me I was stupid to think like that and insisted on coming straight up on a plane to see me. I was shaking as I talked her out of it, saying that Tom and I were having problems and a visit right now would be the last thing we needed. Over the next few hours we talked about baby names and at one point I was rubbing my stomach while I was talking to her as if I really was pregnant.
When I went to bed that night I just lay there and tried to think of a way to get out of the mess I was in. Eventually I went to the computer and started to look up information about pregnancy and miscarriages. I felt sick as I devised my plan to get myself out of this hole.
I took sick leave off work and made a phone call to Mum the following Saturday. I was crying real tears, mostly from stress, as I told her that Tom and I had split up and I had gone through a miscarriage and hospital stay by myself. She asked for finer details as she cried with me but I said I was too upset to talk about anything.
Mum told me to get a plane as soon as I could. I did as she said and when we saw each other at the airport a week later we both cried and held each other for the longest moment. Mum was crying for a baby she thought we’d lost and I was crying for all the disgusting lies I had told and the hurt I had caused everyone.
That night Mike, who had learned what had happened through small town gossip, came to visit me and was absolutely lovely as he stroked my hair and listened to the pain I had gone through. I mentioned how ugly I felt still carrying the baby weight and he assured me I was more gorgeous than ever.
We ended up dating again and he got a transfer to where I was living. Soon, the weight started to fall of me and I was a size 12. It is six years later and Mike and I are married with a baby of our own.
I realize now that my body image should not have bothered me as much as the mental torment I caused others. It was an inner makeover I needed to do before the outside could be fixed.
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