A Weighty Situation

I’ve been with my husband for over nine years. In those nine years we’ve shared dreams, devastations, ambitions, phenomenal failures, terrific triumphs, catastrophes and miracles. Our challenges as a couple are always met with unyielding support and encouragement. Because of this, I’ve shared everything with him. The irrational thoughts that swirl around my loud brain, the fact that sometimes I forget to brush my teeth in the morning, the curious joy I get from naming random objects and bursting into song. I have shared everything with him. Well, almost everything. Not quite everything. There’s just this one thing. My weight.

We're better together - through thick and thin!

Somebody once said, there are three things you never ask a woman – her age, her political affiliation, and her weight. I’m 26. I’m a democrat with some independent views.
I weigh _ _ _. I’m an annoyingly honest person – but I just couldn’t share that number. I often suffer from foot in mouth disease, where my bluntness and the fact that I wear my heart on my sleeve gets me into trouble. But there was something about those three numbers that I could never admit, and they hung in the air like an eternal question mark, a number that would never cross my lips. I was ashamed. I am ashamed. But I am also optimistic.

Maybe it was the stigma of being over the dreaded 200, or the fact that I’m about 60 pounds heavier than he is. Maybe it’s the fact that women just DON’T talk about their “number” with men. So I told him. We were having dinner, and I told him. I was sick of leaping off the scale when he came into the room, afraid he’d see my weight. I was sick of having to dance around it in conversations about my weight loss – “Well, I’m up this many pounds but down from the last time I was this much, so that makes me 23 pounds less than my highest…” I was sick of having it be a big, fat elephant sitting on my chest – because the bottom line is that it’s just a number. It doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of life. In my health and self esteem, sure. But it’s not going to make or break my marriage.

We were sitting at the dinner table and it came up, like random bits of conversation often do. I paused. I wanted badly to tell him. I tried. The words stopped at my lips, the “two” dangling mid-air. Did I want to do this? Why? Did it matter? Does he need to know? Yes. Yes ,I want to do this. It matters because it’s a secret. And I don’t like secrets – not between me and my best friend. “You don’t need to tell me,” he said. I told him.

What happened?

He smiled. He admitted that he was impressed that I told him. He reassured me, and was 100% awesome about it, ensuring me that once again, I totally married the right guy for being always, unequivocally at my side. He’s my biggest fan – and I’m glad that now, I can officially say that there are no large, looming mysteries between us. My weight is now just a number – not a secret.

When it comes to your weight and your partner – is mum the word, or do they know the number? If you haven’t shared it, why do you think that is? For me, it’s the years of shame and stigma associated with being fat, the insecurity of my self worth possibly being judged just by a number. I’d like to know your perspective, too.


5 thoughts on “A Weighty Situation

  1. I shared my number with Brian, but no one else. I figure no one else needs to know and the only reason he knows is because he is my champion during this journey. He helps me take my measurements and always asks about my progress come sunday morning. Plus- he has seen me in some pretty awkward and ugly situations, if that didn’t scare him off a little 3 digit number won’t make much difference.

    I am keeping my dreaded number to myself until I hit my goal. Then I will look forward to sharing it so that it doesn’t seem to be such an unattainable goal [I have a total of 80-85 pounds to lose to be considered medically "normal" for my height].

  2. I am so glad that you found my blog, because now I’ve found yours!! Love it!!!

    What a great post you wrote. I’m not in a relationship now, and haven’t been for years, but I think that it would be difficult for me to share my number with someone I was dating. If we’d moved into the seriously dating, engaged, or married category, I would hope that I’d look at my weight as just a number. I mean, the guy has seen me naked, so he knows every single inch of me and likes what he sees (hopefully), so the number shouldn’t matter (again, hopefully).

    Your hubs had the perfect reaction. So happy for you!

  3. I really just wanted to say that I am soooooo happy you found a partner in life who is worthy of your awesomeness!!! (Because you deserve the very best!) And it also brings a smile to my face to know your husband is a real mensch. Love you! And have a good trip up north!

  4. You inspired me!!

    I told Chuckles! It was really funny actually. He likes to pick me up, something I’m not a fan of any one doing EVER! And I actually let him pick me up (cause he’s strong like bull hahaha) and then I just started babbling and was like do you know that I weigh xxx.

    What was really funny was he was stoked that he knew how much he could easily pick up hahaha! Didn’t even phase the guy and now I’m never worried about him coming in the bathroom when I weigh myself!

    Thanks for the inspiration :)

  5. I initially struggled with this, but only because I was never comfortable with the # I saw. I’ve been comfortable with how I look, but for the longest time the # would eat away at me. I think the thing that changed my telling him (years ago) was when he saw an older picture of me when I was fit and in shape, but still 165lbs–he exclaimed how I looked like I must’ve weighed under 140– I laughed and said I couldn’t remember ever being that small on the scales. Since then, I’ve been fairly open about my weight—now it’s been a little bit harder since the scale goes up weekly, and I’m now over 200 and weigh more than him, but I am growing a person so it doesn’t bother me so much. I’m also not gaining more than I should so again, I’m not too concerned about. We’ll see how I feel about this in a month though—husband is starting his gym routine again and will likely reach my pre-pregnancy weight by the time I reach his pre-weightloss weight.

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