Gaining weight as a test of love

Contrariness at it's finest

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Perhaps I’m naive, but I didn’t think taking weight loss injections would change my relationship. My focus at the beginning of my ‘journey’ (vomit) was on weight loss. For health and vanity. I WILL NOT contribute to the whole weight loss is only acceptable if it’s for health trope. Mainly because I’ve never met a person on a diet who doesn’t enjoy the praise when others notice their shrinking size.

‘Have you lost weight?’ is a loaded question to the receiver. At first you feel pride. Yes you have lost weight! You feel a little shame… yes you are still losing weight and yes you did need to lose weight. Then you finish with an unnerving sensation that you don’t know what that person truly thinks of you. The question implies the asker has noticed your girth. That they think you look better smaller. That you are or were fat. It feels gutting. You’re exposed to the inner thoughts of another human for just a moment and have to accept that crashing realisation that we never truly know another person, not really. Now add this existential horror to a romantic relationship, scrap that, a sexual relationship, and wow, you’re in for a wild ride.

I have a sneaking suspicion that apart from enjoying the wining and dining element of a new relationship, the other reason I tend to put on a lot of weight rapidly when I fall in love is as a test. I’ve never articulated this to someone I’ve been involved with because, well, it’s a bit embarrassing. Here’s what I think; when you meet a new mate you know on some level physical attraction is involved. And yes, they might come for the looks and stay for the personality, but it’s always there, the fact that something about the person caught your eye. You might have liked the way they swished their hair, or the size of their forearms, or maybe the thickness of their beard (hand firmly up on that one), because at our core, we’re just mammals, sniffing about each other’s bottoms looking for a mate. We like what we like.

And I detest this. I really do. I hate that the most personal and intimate relationship of our lives is based, initially, on physicality. Why? Because it feels a little fake. It feels too transient. It feels conditional. I can’t guarantee I’ll look like this forever. I can guarantee that I won’t. I guess I just want to be loved for who I am, not what I look like. Don’t we all? So, how do I handle this conundrum? By testing my lover. By getting fat. By becoming the exact opposite of what they initially liked. It’s so contrary I could scream. It’s a silent and physical manifestation of whispering “You