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>Fat Bubble

>Being fat your whole life kind of puts you in a bubble. It hides you from the world in a way. Sure, there are the people who stare, the ones who make comments to their friends as if just because you’re fat you can’t hear them, or it doesn’t matter if you hear because fat people don’t have feelings. But, there are also the people out there who just look right through you as if you don’t even exist. That pretty much sums up my experience with males. Oh sure, they would acknowledge my presence enough to work with me, and in high school and college I had some guy friends, but as the saying goes: “Like seeks like”. In other words, they were fat and lonely too. But man, go from a size 20 to a size 12, and it’s like someone turned on the light inside the room with the one way mirror. I had guys talking to me outside of work, and they weren’t asking for my crème brulee recipe.

I finally agreed to a date with a guy I knew from work. I figured it was safe enough. The guy who always bought me my booze was worried I would end up dead if I went out on a date with a stranger. I think his exact words were “Tits up under a truck.” It must be an Iowa thing, because that was the one and only time I ever heard that phrase. So, at the tender age of 20, I had my first date. I’ll spare you the details, and cut to the chase. He thought buying me a drink earned him certain privileges, and had apparently never heard the phrase “No means no”. I didn’t date again for a long time, but man did I hit the bottle. Chris used to get me stuff about once every other week. Now I was up to a bottle every two days. He was concerned, and said as much, but at that point, I didn’t care. I had stopped eating all together, and was taking so many diet pills that even with the alcohol I was still up half the night. Eventually, I met someone I felt I could trust (mostly because he never even tried to hold my hand with out permission). He understood what I meant when I said I was waiting for marriage. It wasn’t until our first major fight (ironically about my weight) in the third year of our marriage that I even told him what happened. To this day, there are only three people, including myself, who know the truth about that night.

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