@Raimona
I was always slim. Never snacked between meals, no soft drinks, rarely drank alcohol at home. If I didn’t feel hungry I’d skip a meal. In the evening I often just had a sandwich or soup out of sheer laziness.
Then I moved in with OH who has always been fat. He insists on having a cooked meal every night and is horrified at the idea of just having a sandwich. He puts far too much oil and butter in his cooking. His portion sizes are ridiculous. He has a dessert after every meal, even if it’s just a biscuit. He has soft drinks every day. He eats treats and snacks like crisps and chocolate every day. Quite often he has his evening meal and still reaches for snacks shortly afterwards while watching tv. He regularly has one or two alcoholic drinks in front of the tv too.
I gained 3st from adopting his bad habits. I’m struggling to lose it because we live together and eat together, and he gets angry if I refuse his cooking because of the amount of fat he’s put in, or leave half of the portion he’s served out. He keeps offering me drinks and snacks when he has them himself. What was completely effortless is now a real struggle for me.
That is exactly why I became obese. He was deliberately sabotaging any attempt I made to get back to how I was - any mention of trying to do something about it was met with wailing about how awful I was for rejecting his cooking, a deliberate purchase of cakes, sweets, ice cream, frying everything, anything to stop me from eating something I genuinely liked and was healthier.
'I'm having poached egg and asparagus for
lunch, would you like some?' would mean that I came out of the shower to find him making a full English with him saying 'I'm making food for you'.
'I really fancy steak and salad, would you like to have chips?' - Had to have Pepper Sauce with it. Fine, I'll buy some. Start cooking, turn my back for a second and he'd tipped the entire pot into the pan over both steaks and added double cream and butter whilst turning the gas up so high, the steaks both became well, well, well done so they couldn't be eaten without sauce.
'I'm having jacket potato, tuna and salad. What do you want?' 'Oh, I'll sort something out'. Fine. Walks in with twenty quid's worth of fish and chips and a fuckton of guilting me about wasting his money when he just wanted to get me something I liked.
The moment of realisation for me was when he'd tried to get me to have another fry up and I'd refused, saying I was going to have the beans on toast that I wanted. I put the beans on the hob whilst he was eating and went to the toilet - I must have been very quiet, as he didn't hear me coming back. He'd left his food, must have run into the kitchen and was happily melting an entire packet of butter into them.
'What on Earth are you doing?'.
(jumping about three foot into the air) 'Oh, um, erm - I'm making them nice and glossy for you'. And the rage when I said 'Well, glossy or not, I'm not eating them with a whole pack of butter in them. They'll be disgusting' - he was furious and launched into a tirade about how ungrateful I was and how I was only wanting to eat less and take out a gym membership because I wanted to go and pick up more men.
Left him, lost seven stone without trying. Still fat, as actual dieting sets off ED triggers from teenage years, but I can make a free choice to actually do something about that with DP. Which I'm doing.