Learning to Love my Relationship Weight

Love is a beautiful thing. Love can move mountains and love can change lives. Love fills us up, and love can tear us down. A lack of love can lead us to yearn and to better ourselves, and being full of love leads us to being, well, full.

The comfort of finding that person you think could be your special someone is a wonderful thing. Your body image improves, your shame eating gets rebranded as snacking, and you learn to shamelessly enjoy the many great flavors the frozen dessert aisle and the surprisingly decadent Walmart pastry section have to offer. You get to experience pure, prediabetic bliss.

But that love usually doesn’t always last forever. Oh no, life is often cruel and fickle. All of those good times, all of the comfort and trust, all of the snuggling and lust, all of it gone with the wind like a fleck of dust. So even though the relationship was great, all you’re left with is relationship weight.

And that’s where I find myself today. I’m still the same guy, but I now have “more to love.” I gained a nice, round twenty pounds and my love handles are officially too much for my pants to handle. I would very much like to improve my aesthetic, but man, it’s just so much work.

I have had a really hard time consistently motivating myself. It’s not like I have the insatiable desire for a “revenge body” to motivate me. The only reason we broke up was because I finally realized what a raving homosexual I was. So my journey to my ideal body would have to be obtained through good ‘ol fashioned determination, adhering to a schedule, and not eating dessert like it was going out of style.

There was one thing that I noticed was missing though, one thing that had been a crucial part of my previous weight loss journeys. One thing that drove me harder than any desire to french a stranger. One thing that drove me harder than my insatiable competitive lust to be good at pickup basketball. One thing that drove me harder than simply wanting to not be physically uncomfortable most of the time. That one thing missing was the delicate whisper of sweet, gentle self-loathing.

I hadn’t developed any hate for my “plus sized” self. I hadn’t developed the feeling that my self-worth was somehow attached to my physique. The range of what I viewed as an acceptable body for myself had expanded considerably. Don’t get me wrong, my weight was still a little above where I wanted to be. I still would like to put my best foot forward for all the hot guys, both far and wide. But that’s more secondary now. Now I primarily want to feel good, move well, and of course, be a dominant force in pickup basketball games.

Being in that relationship for a year and having that supportive, open environment where I felt comfortable being myself, being in that environment so full of love, I found that I began to love myself more. I began to feel free to truly be me. I finally began to understand what self-love really means. I was happy when I looked in the mirror. I allowed myself to buy fun new pride gear that made me happy. And I’m now allowing myself to pursue writing and artistic expression.

Breaking up sucks. The emptiness, the heartache, the heartburn from the relationship weight. But ultimately I’m glad this relationship happened. I’m glad I got to experience all of that love. I’m glad I found someone who I could be so free and open with. I’m glad I was able to love myself.

Even though none of us are ecstatic about ballooning in size and constantly feeling as though a fart is impending, I hope you’ll join me in learning to love your relationship weight.

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