~BBW, Eating, Family Conflict, Romance, MWG - Happy big girl overcomes parental concerns and some major weight loss to find her prince
Hi.
My name is Bethany, but my old high school friends called me Big Betty. I am from a family of very large bottomed women, and relatives. Most of us weigh over 200 lbs and are very very ample bottomed.
This story begins for me back in high school when I was dating despite my size and my mother was pressuring me to lose weight. At the time of my Junior class social, I weighed almost 230 lbs and was almost 60 inches in the hips. I had some very tight blue jeans and a 'major' shape...42D-25-60. The 25 inches was below my rib cage and I went to great pains and much struggle to get on those jeans. Guys were always surprised by my small waist, and thought I was over 300 because I wore baggy clothes all the time.
I liked eating – after school snacks were standard and I never met a piece of pizza that I didn’t like. I’d been a fat child, developed early, but somehow never was overly concerned about it. And because I wasn’t worried my classmates didn’t seem overly concerned either.
Actually I was a 44C cup but I felt uncomfortable and would wear 38DD bras of my older sister at times. This created major side flab in the bust with her stuff. My mom was almost 400lbs at the time and had struggled throughout our school years with "those blasted little chairs" in visiting our teachers.
Our father had been a Nam vet, dying of complications before I was in first grade. My mom's weight, never light, increased after that according to my older sister, and she never dated anyone. To march on as they say, that spring Mom felt unless I lost at least 70 lbs, my prom would be a disaster for me.
My older sister had lost big time weight for her, and then ballooned by the next summer to 250. Her butt was bigger than mine then, but pound for pound at 230 I had the bigger derriere, at 55 inches to my sissies at 48 inches.
She is 5'10", I am 5'8". Anyway to shorten this for all you horny feeder guys, under pressure from my Mom I lost 85 lbs in 12 months. It was a major mistake relative to my 'fanny problem,' because it made my fat hips stand out even more – a tiny 22 inch waist vs 40 inches and a bosom that was still over 30. Mom told me of her Aunt Sally who had been over 600lbs and was over 100 inches in the backside. Sally died in an accident right when mom went into college and it devastated her.
She hadn’t been bothered with my weight pre-puberty, but had gradually hardened, becoming determined that her kids and Sally's grandkids (all of whom tended to be bigger) would never suffer any more 'bottom humor', or fat prejudices.
The problem was, Big Betty liked eating despite her tremendous derriere, thought her boobs were just great and was really mostly self conscious about her seemingly ant-like waist. Until mMom made an issue of it it was commoin for to have an after school snack plus a second dessert bedfore bed. This, nit a cheerleader physique, was just "normal" because my Mom and twoolder sisters were bigger, as were otherr relatives.
My cousin Mags was my height and somewhat thinner, but she hated the big family 'fat pads'. Her first boyfriend had once called her a cow...(you have big tits Mags, get over it)..and she let my mom enroll her in a weight watcher program...which my mom and sis joined. Mags lost tons in High School , but she had a big 'gain-back' after college. She is almost 300 now.
Now to my side of things. I became the latest trophy candidate in my Mom’s weight loss hit parade. During my "Sensational Senior Prom" after nine months of veritable starvation I was down to a mildly chubby 145 lbs with a nice enough classmate as an escort in whom I had no interest....the good thing is that I met a visiting college friend of my best friends who knew how to at least carry a conversation.
He was ROTC and going into the ARMY in two years. We enjoyed hanging out at the refreshment table as I pigged out on the forbidden sweets since my date had disappeared onto the dance floor. John asked me to dance, we hit it off, started dating and he started filling my head with ideas.
"You could be a nurse in Germany, he told me” as we chatted over a burger combo at Steak and Shake. “My Dad lives there and he can get me into all the good Euro-American military base Universities. You too if you want." (He named some....I was star-struck and didn't care, so I don’t to this day remember them. With the Iraq thing that kind of stability would go down the drain for the duration).
“You’re a smart girl and should think about college,” he encouraged me as we shared a half dozen box of pastries enroute to the county fair – in all honesty, I shared three quarters of them since he was driving: two jelly filled donuts, an eclair and a bearclaw. He had the other eclair and a doughnut.
We drove my Mom to my sister’s wedding, having to listen to how lucky a girl of her size was to snag a guy like Craig, who must be a chubby chaser to deliberately get involved with her. I could tell John felt like responding but he held his piece. Privately he fumed to me after the ceremony, “what’s with wrong with your Mom – there is nothing wrong with preferring larger women! She was a beautiful bride and they are definitely in love!
I explained a bit of the family history. To which he listened with interest but kept to himself, other than to opine that my Mom needed to know some larger couples to remold her viewpoint. He then informed me that he’d never hold such a view – and then asked me if I felt like a banana split at Dairy Queen, knowing that I love them.
This is how we spent the summer – excursions, picnics, something different every weekend, and always with food. I enjoyed easting and John indulged my appetite without reservation.
We were engaged later that summer....I was working on tables at a Denny's and John had two years to go before his first enlistment was to begin. We were timing our marriage to follow his graduation so that we could travel together to a foreign Post of Duty. My weight I knew was edging back up, and he told me 'Bethie, don't worry...my mom is big.. and my Dad loves her.' I knew he was speaking for himself about me as well.
He crossed swords with Mom on this issue, as she told him “'Bethie' needs to be careful honey...our Italian heritage explodes after 22.” My embarassingly direct mother. Always outspoken – predicting that I would be a blimp simply because that’s what she felt like!
To digress a bit, my hiney back at 230 lbs had been matched basketball size, very round firm and little bounce. The tighter my jeans, the more my butt wiggled down the hallway..but my thighs and 'stuff' were solid. Sure my tits had been getting bigger. My 25 inch waist in high school had been in danger, ...but honestly I’d not been as bugged by that prospect as my Mom. I thought I looked totally disproportionate then and wished if I wass going to be big it would settle more in my belly..
Denny's was healthy food I felt, even including dessert. We got a food allowance based on our hours. I didn’t tell my Mom this, so she fed me the usual breakfast and lunch before I went off to work 1-10, then fed me supper when I got home. What she didn’t realize was that I was getting a fourth meal between 3 and 4 o’clock.
Denny’s had a great afternoon variety. Chicken Alfredo, Mushroom Steak, Roast Beef, Turkey with Stuffing, Boneless Chicken Breast with Country Gravy, and Grilled Tilapia for example. Any of these were served with two sides, including cinnamon apples, baked potatoes, onion rings and others. My meal allowance generally was enough to allow for one of these combos plus dessert.
The resulting weight gain didn’t bother me; what I enjoyed was that John had his hands on everything...not just any one part. By Thanksgiving, when my Mom cautioned him, I knew I’d regained 20 pounds and was back to 165. Some of this, not unexpectedly, was in my hips but this time also in my waist, which now at a record 26”. I sensed that my metabolism had shifted and that my belly would be noticeable in due time. Strangely, part of me was excited at the prospect.
John resented my Mom’s interference, and she resented his tolerance of my regain. With the wedding still a year and half away he asked me point blank what I though I should weigh by then. “The way I’ve been going, 250 wouldn’t be impossible if it weren’t for my Mom,” I warned him.
I was surprised at the way his eyes lit up and the smile on his face. But then he paused and grew serious. “85 pounds in eighteen months? I guess five pounds a month isn’t excessive – but are you sure you want to do this.”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be that much, but there’s quite a bit in play here. We both know I’m going to be larger anyway – sooner or later. I know you like it that way, and a statement needs to be made to Mom if we’re going to have any peace. I’m suggesting I should get a just get a roommate, eat well and enjoy life.”
John didn’t know that three pounds a month was actually less than my regain rate at the time. Even at four pounds a month I wasn’t feeling stuffed, so I knew three pounds was a conservative. I knew there was room for more, and John I suspected would be the consummate encourager.
Mom of course wasn’t happy with the idea of my moving out, especially since she knew it was mostly her interference that was triggering it. So she agreed to hold her peace if I would just give staying at home one more try. I told her fine, because that way I could save some money, but if I brought home a cheese cake or pie to snack on she couldn’t complain.
I could tell it was hard, but she agreed. I even tested the waters by doing exactly that the first month or so and she was as good s her word. But John’s commitment made me decide against pushing the envelope too hard. He was pursing matters with military efficiency..
On Saturday nights he took me to dinners at places with excellent pre-meal breads and muffins. Since he had to maintain a military physique he let me have his share, and I’d always be offered extra while we were waiting for the entrée. We also “shared” desserts but I’d have most.
Sundays was our outing day – usually starting with a buffet, fast food in the afternoon and a nice place in the evening. It was easy to add another fifteen pounds by the end of March. At 180 pounds my hips were reinflating nicely and my thighs with them, but the exciting news to me was that my belly was a full 30”.
Fat waitresses are not that common at Denny’s, and I had been the biggest to start with. But I was popular with the customers, always on time and never slow or getting orders jumbled. They had no desire to lert me go and I was making good tips to nourish my expanding butt. My supervisor at this point asked me if I realized I was gaining quite a bit and simply expressed concern about my feet.
“I’ve been bigger than this with no problem, “I replied truthfully, and that ended the discussion. He went ahead ordered me a larger size uniform – and made sure it was loose.
By the end of June I packed on another 14 pounds and was nearly 200 pounds. My waist now 32” and my hips only 50” – still disproportionate, but I was starting to get a noticeable tummy. John was ecstatic, which made me happy too. But my Mom was obviously having issues containing herself.
I decided to release her from her pledge of silence on my weight just for once and asked her what was on her mind.
“Don’t you realize what’s happening?” she pleaded, her 400+ pound frame shaking with emotion. “Your sister is pregnant and nearly 300; as for me I’m beyond hope – but there’s still time for you!”
I was upset – but at the depth of her concern, not my ballooning body.
“Mom,” I tried to console her, “Look at our family – they’re big, yes, but other than that they’re basically healthy. Sure, Melanie is 300 pounds, but she’s loved and healthy as can be. And with her height she can handle it. We’re meant to be this way – she’s happy and I’m happy, can’t you share in our joy?”
She looked at me dazed, “You actually enjoy being obese? It doesn’t faze you?”
“Not a bit,” I replied. “I only lost weight as a Junior in school to please you – I hated it. And Melanie doesn’t even talk about her weight – you know that!”
“True,” Mom admitted, “Craig doesn’t care either, he’s just proud of becoming a daddy. And you say John is really OK with it?”
“Absolutely,” I assured her without going into details. “And if you’re just serving lo-cal meals at night for my sake, please stop and enjoy some real food you can enjoy yourself.”
“You’ve noticed that?”
“Yes – and have been putting up with it. But you make luscious pasta and desserts and I know you enjoy them. Let’s share them together!”
After that confrontation Mom really did relax. She didn’t become an active encourager, but she did relax the calorie watch to suit her own tastes. She even, at my request, let me start cooking to see what I would do. I pleased her by including salads, fresh fruits, and vegetables. It wasn’t lo-cal, especially with the carbs that went with them, but it was healthful.
In my own mind I knew what I was doing. It was fine for me to be over 250, but to keep John in required condition I knew I would have to cook for both our appetites. And with the weekends plus my “fourth meal” at Denny’s I was still packing on pounds.
In December the baby was due and Mom was off to be nanny for ten weeks. My weight was up nearly just over another 25 pounds, to a full 225, and my waist was 35” with my hips at 55. That was a 15” less disparity than three years before. My Mom would have croaked if she knew I’d told the wedding gown seamstress to give me room for size 28 if I needed it. I wasn’t really planning to get that big, but it showed my mindset.
With Mom out of town it gave John and I a chance to dine together at her place. He enjoyed my efforts with various Mexican and Italian dishes, along with traditional American cuisine. I kept the entrée portions moderate, but always seemed to overindulge at dessert. It was good for another 12 pounds by the end of February and I had reached 237 and a loose size 24.
With the goal John and I had only projectively discussed nearly reached with three months to spare I took time to consider where I was.
My upper torso was obviously bulky. My arms were fuller, my shoulders well rounded to complement my massive breasts and I had a full complement of back fat. Given my huge 56” hips I found this to be a good offsetting balance – I looked like a big woman, not excessively bottom heavy (although most would likely still call me a pear). Given the size of everything else I felt my full size double chin fit right in.
My thighs, never small, were now like sturdy tree trunks, big but solid, and thankfully without cellulite. My calves were plump balloons. But the real news was my 37” waist. That was still 19” less than my hips and 7” less than my chest, but big enough to be sporting love handles.
Wedding plans now began in earnest. In addition to the usual bridal showers there were relatives and old friends to see for the last time in who knew how many years. This always meant additional food and since I was just past 21 drinks if I wanted to. I was partial to grasshoppers with real ice cream and similar high calorie drinks – martinis weren’t my style, nor was beer.
On my wedding day out of curiosity I checked the scale and found hat I was 253 pounds. My prediction had come true! However, the wddding dress was adequate at a snug 24. My heavier sisters were part of the wedding party and John’s family had people as big as my own. My Mom, even at over 400, really didn’t look that out of place.
We left the day after the ceremony for a weeklong honeymoon in Spain before reporting to John’s post of duty in Germany. I was pleasantly surprised to find there were other heavier military wives. I of course wasn’t eating all the extra food anymore and my weight gain slowed way down. But at close to 280 by year end I again had a huge 60” butt, and a waist around 45 and my bra was back to 44, but now in a DD cup.
Not everyone here is as accepting of their weight as John and I are of mine. Some women are ashamed of it, blaming it in stress and anxiety or perhaps hormones – anything to avoid just accepting themselves. In some cases this is in response to negative comments from their husbands, but more frequently their men seem not to care. In some cases they actually oppose their spouses weight loss desires. I’ve begun trying to be supportive and get them to accept themselves.
What amuses me is their ambivalence – one hour they’ll talk about trying to lose, but then joyfully plow through a sizable serving of one of my creations, which I know is part of the real reason why they come to visit when their husbands are off on assignment. They know I make enough for guests.
It is my opinion that, like me, few of these military brides seriously want to lose weight – I’ve yet to see any really try. They’re just looking for a rationale for staying bigger. Hopefully we can help them.
Big Butt Betty
Started by Anonymous, Finished by Observer
(Another refurbished Discard Forum story scrap (click here) that never did go anywhere – hope you like it)
Started by Anonymous, Finished by Observer
(Another refurbished Discard Forum story scrap (click here) that never did go anywhere – hope you like it)
Hi.
My name is Bethany, but my old high school friends called me Big Betty. I am from a family of very large bottomed women, and relatives. Most of us weigh over 200 lbs and are very very ample bottomed.
This story begins for me back in high school when I was dating despite my size and my mother was pressuring me to lose weight. At the time of my Junior class social, I weighed almost 230 lbs and was almost 60 inches in the hips. I had some very tight blue jeans and a 'major' shape...42D-25-60. The 25 inches was below my rib cage and I went to great pains and much struggle to get on those jeans. Guys were always surprised by my small waist, and thought I was over 300 because I wore baggy clothes all the time.
I liked eating – after school snacks were standard and I never met a piece of pizza that I didn’t like. I’d been a fat child, developed early, but somehow never was overly concerned about it. And because I wasn’t worried my classmates didn’t seem overly concerned either.
Actually I was a 44C cup but I felt uncomfortable and would wear 38DD bras of my older sister at times. This created major side flab in the bust with her stuff. My mom was almost 400lbs at the time and had struggled throughout our school years with "those blasted little chairs" in visiting our teachers.
Our father had been a Nam vet, dying of complications before I was in first grade. My mom's weight, never light, increased after that according to my older sister, and she never dated anyone. To march on as they say, that spring Mom felt unless I lost at least 70 lbs, my prom would be a disaster for me.
My older sister had lost big time weight for her, and then ballooned by the next summer to 250. Her butt was bigger than mine then, but pound for pound at 230 I had the bigger derriere, at 55 inches to my sissies at 48 inches.
She is 5'10", I am 5'8". Anyway to shorten this for all you horny feeder guys, under pressure from my Mom I lost 85 lbs in 12 months. It was a major mistake relative to my 'fanny problem,' because it made my fat hips stand out even more – a tiny 22 inch waist vs 40 inches and a bosom that was still over 30. Mom told me of her Aunt Sally who had been over 600lbs and was over 100 inches in the backside. Sally died in an accident right when mom went into college and it devastated her.
She hadn’t been bothered with my weight pre-puberty, but had gradually hardened, becoming determined that her kids and Sally's grandkids (all of whom tended to be bigger) would never suffer any more 'bottom humor', or fat prejudices.
The problem was, Big Betty liked eating despite her tremendous derriere, thought her boobs were just great and was really mostly self conscious about her seemingly ant-like waist. Until mMom made an issue of it it was commoin for to have an after school snack plus a second dessert bedfore bed. This, nit a cheerleader physique, was just "normal" because my Mom and twoolder sisters were bigger, as were otherr relatives.
My cousin Mags was my height and somewhat thinner, but she hated the big family 'fat pads'. Her first boyfriend had once called her a cow...(you have big tits Mags, get over it)..and she let my mom enroll her in a weight watcher program...which my mom and sis joined. Mags lost tons in High School , but she had a big 'gain-back' after college. She is almost 300 now.
Now to my side of things. I became the latest trophy candidate in my Mom’s weight loss hit parade. During my "Sensational Senior Prom" after nine months of veritable starvation I was down to a mildly chubby 145 lbs with a nice enough classmate as an escort in whom I had no interest....the good thing is that I met a visiting college friend of my best friends who knew how to at least carry a conversation.
He was ROTC and going into the ARMY in two years. We enjoyed hanging out at the refreshment table as I pigged out on the forbidden sweets since my date had disappeared onto the dance floor. John asked me to dance, we hit it off, started dating and he started filling my head with ideas.
"You could be a nurse in Germany, he told me” as we chatted over a burger combo at Steak and Shake. “My Dad lives there and he can get me into all the good Euro-American military base Universities. You too if you want." (He named some....I was star-struck and didn't care, so I don’t to this day remember them. With the Iraq thing that kind of stability would go down the drain for the duration).
“You’re a smart girl and should think about college,” he encouraged me as we shared a half dozen box of pastries enroute to the county fair – in all honesty, I shared three quarters of them since he was driving: two jelly filled donuts, an eclair and a bearclaw. He had the other eclair and a doughnut.
We drove my Mom to my sister’s wedding, having to listen to how lucky a girl of her size was to snag a guy like Craig, who must be a chubby chaser to deliberately get involved with her. I could tell John felt like responding but he held his piece. Privately he fumed to me after the ceremony, “what’s with wrong with your Mom – there is nothing wrong with preferring larger women! She was a beautiful bride and they are definitely in love!
I explained a bit of the family history. To which he listened with interest but kept to himself, other than to opine that my Mom needed to know some larger couples to remold her viewpoint. He then informed me that he’d never hold such a view – and then asked me if I felt like a banana split at Dairy Queen, knowing that I love them.
This is how we spent the summer – excursions, picnics, something different every weekend, and always with food. I enjoyed easting and John indulged my appetite without reservation.
We were engaged later that summer....I was working on tables at a Denny's and John had two years to go before his first enlistment was to begin. We were timing our marriage to follow his graduation so that we could travel together to a foreign Post of Duty. My weight I knew was edging back up, and he told me 'Bethie, don't worry...my mom is big.. and my Dad loves her.' I knew he was speaking for himself about me as well.
He crossed swords with Mom on this issue, as she told him “'Bethie' needs to be careful honey...our Italian heritage explodes after 22.” My embarassingly direct mother. Always outspoken – predicting that I would be a blimp simply because that’s what she felt like!
To digress a bit, my hiney back at 230 lbs had been matched basketball size, very round firm and little bounce. The tighter my jeans, the more my butt wiggled down the hallway..but my thighs and 'stuff' were solid. Sure my tits had been getting bigger. My 25 inch waist in high school had been in danger, ...but honestly I’d not been as bugged by that prospect as my Mom. I thought I looked totally disproportionate then and wished if I wass going to be big it would settle more in my belly..
Denny's was healthy food I felt, even including dessert. We got a food allowance based on our hours. I didn’t tell my Mom this, so she fed me the usual breakfast and lunch before I went off to work 1-10, then fed me supper when I got home. What she didn’t realize was that I was getting a fourth meal between 3 and 4 o’clock.
Denny’s had a great afternoon variety. Chicken Alfredo, Mushroom Steak, Roast Beef, Turkey with Stuffing, Boneless Chicken Breast with Country Gravy, and Grilled Tilapia for example. Any of these were served with two sides, including cinnamon apples, baked potatoes, onion rings and others. My meal allowance generally was enough to allow for one of these combos plus dessert.
The resulting weight gain didn’t bother me; what I enjoyed was that John had his hands on everything...not just any one part. By Thanksgiving, when my Mom cautioned him, I knew I’d regained 20 pounds and was back to 165. Some of this, not unexpectedly, was in my hips but this time also in my waist, which now at a record 26”. I sensed that my metabolism had shifted and that my belly would be noticeable in due time. Strangely, part of me was excited at the prospect.
John resented my Mom’s interference, and she resented his tolerance of my regain. With the wedding still a year and half away he asked me point blank what I though I should weigh by then. “The way I’ve been going, 250 wouldn’t be impossible if it weren’t for my Mom,” I warned him.
I was surprised at the way his eyes lit up and the smile on his face. But then he paused and grew serious. “85 pounds in eighteen months? I guess five pounds a month isn’t excessive – but are you sure you want to do this.”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be that much, but there’s quite a bit in play here. We both know I’m going to be larger anyway – sooner or later. I know you like it that way, and a statement needs to be made to Mom if we’re going to have any peace. I’m suggesting I should get a just get a roommate, eat well and enjoy life.”
John didn’t know that three pounds a month was actually less than my regain rate at the time. Even at four pounds a month I wasn’t feeling stuffed, so I knew three pounds was a conservative. I knew there was room for more, and John I suspected would be the consummate encourager.
Mom of course wasn’t happy with the idea of my moving out, especially since she knew it was mostly her interference that was triggering it. So she agreed to hold her peace if I would just give staying at home one more try. I told her fine, because that way I could save some money, but if I brought home a cheese cake or pie to snack on she couldn’t complain.
I could tell it was hard, but she agreed. I even tested the waters by doing exactly that the first month or so and she was as good s her word. But John’s commitment made me decide against pushing the envelope too hard. He was pursing matters with military efficiency..
On Saturday nights he took me to dinners at places with excellent pre-meal breads and muffins. Since he had to maintain a military physique he let me have his share, and I’d always be offered extra while we were waiting for the entrée. We also “shared” desserts but I’d have most.
Sundays was our outing day – usually starting with a buffet, fast food in the afternoon and a nice place in the evening. It was easy to add another fifteen pounds by the end of March. At 180 pounds my hips were reinflating nicely and my thighs with them, but the exciting news to me was that my belly was a full 30”.
Fat waitresses are not that common at Denny’s, and I had been the biggest to start with. But I was popular with the customers, always on time and never slow or getting orders jumbled. They had no desire to lert me go and I was making good tips to nourish my expanding butt. My supervisor at this point asked me if I realized I was gaining quite a bit and simply expressed concern about my feet.
“I’ve been bigger than this with no problem, “I replied truthfully, and that ended the discussion. He went ahead ordered me a larger size uniform – and made sure it was loose.
By the end of June I packed on another 14 pounds and was nearly 200 pounds. My waist now 32” and my hips only 50” – still disproportionate, but I was starting to get a noticeable tummy. John was ecstatic, which made me happy too. But my Mom was obviously having issues containing herself.
I decided to release her from her pledge of silence on my weight just for once and asked her what was on her mind.
“Don’t you realize what’s happening?” she pleaded, her 400+ pound frame shaking with emotion. “Your sister is pregnant and nearly 300; as for me I’m beyond hope – but there’s still time for you!”
I was upset – but at the depth of her concern, not my ballooning body.
“Mom,” I tried to console her, “Look at our family – they’re big, yes, but other than that they’re basically healthy. Sure, Melanie is 300 pounds, but she’s loved and healthy as can be. And with her height she can handle it. We’re meant to be this way – she’s happy and I’m happy, can’t you share in our joy?”
She looked at me dazed, “You actually enjoy being obese? It doesn’t faze you?”
“Not a bit,” I replied. “I only lost weight as a Junior in school to please you – I hated it. And Melanie doesn’t even talk about her weight – you know that!”
“True,” Mom admitted, “Craig doesn’t care either, he’s just proud of becoming a daddy. And you say John is really OK with it?”
“Absolutely,” I assured her without going into details. “And if you’re just serving lo-cal meals at night for my sake, please stop and enjoy some real food you can enjoy yourself.”
“You’ve noticed that?”
“Yes – and have been putting up with it. But you make luscious pasta and desserts and I know you enjoy them. Let’s share them together!”
After that confrontation Mom really did relax. She didn’t become an active encourager, but she did relax the calorie watch to suit her own tastes. She even, at my request, let me start cooking to see what I would do. I pleased her by including salads, fresh fruits, and vegetables. It wasn’t lo-cal, especially with the carbs that went with them, but it was healthful.
In my own mind I knew what I was doing. It was fine for me to be over 250, but to keep John in required condition I knew I would have to cook for both our appetites. And with the weekends plus my “fourth meal” at Denny’s I was still packing on pounds.
In December the baby was due and Mom was off to be nanny for ten weeks. My weight was up nearly just over another 25 pounds, to a full 225, and my waist was 35” with my hips at 55. That was a 15” less disparity than three years before. My Mom would have croaked if she knew I’d told the wedding gown seamstress to give me room for size 28 if I needed it. I wasn’t really planning to get that big, but it showed my mindset.
With Mom out of town it gave John and I a chance to dine together at her place. He enjoyed my efforts with various Mexican and Italian dishes, along with traditional American cuisine. I kept the entrée portions moderate, but always seemed to overindulge at dessert. It was good for another 12 pounds by the end of February and I had reached 237 and a loose size 24.
With the goal John and I had only projectively discussed nearly reached with three months to spare I took time to consider where I was.
My upper torso was obviously bulky. My arms were fuller, my shoulders well rounded to complement my massive breasts and I had a full complement of back fat. Given my huge 56” hips I found this to be a good offsetting balance – I looked like a big woman, not excessively bottom heavy (although most would likely still call me a pear). Given the size of everything else I felt my full size double chin fit right in.
My thighs, never small, were now like sturdy tree trunks, big but solid, and thankfully without cellulite. My calves were plump balloons. But the real news was my 37” waist. That was still 19” less than my hips and 7” less than my chest, but big enough to be sporting love handles.
Wedding plans now began in earnest. In addition to the usual bridal showers there were relatives and old friends to see for the last time in who knew how many years. This always meant additional food and since I was just past 21 drinks if I wanted to. I was partial to grasshoppers with real ice cream and similar high calorie drinks – martinis weren’t my style, nor was beer.
On my wedding day out of curiosity I checked the scale and found hat I was 253 pounds. My prediction had come true! However, the wddding dress was adequate at a snug 24. My heavier sisters were part of the wedding party and John’s family had people as big as my own. My Mom, even at over 400, really didn’t look that out of place.
We left the day after the ceremony for a weeklong honeymoon in Spain before reporting to John’s post of duty in Germany. I was pleasantly surprised to find there were other heavier military wives. I of course wasn’t eating all the extra food anymore and my weight gain slowed way down. But at close to 280 by year end I again had a huge 60” butt, and a waist around 45 and my bra was back to 44, but now in a DD cup.
Not everyone here is as accepting of their weight as John and I are of mine. Some women are ashamed of it, blaming it in stress and anxiety or perhaps hormones – anything to avoid just accepting themselves. In some cases this is in response to negative comments from their husbands, but more frequently their men seem not to care. In some cases they actually oppose their spouses weight loss desires. I’ve begun trying to be supportive and get them to accept themselves.
What amuses me is their ambivalence – one hour they’ll talk about trying to lose, but then joyfully plow through a sizable serving of one of my creations, which I know is part of the real reason why they come to visit when their husbands are off on assignment. They know I make enough for guests.
It is my opinion that, like me, few of these military brides seriously want to lose weight – I’ve yet to see any really try. They’re just looking for a rationale for staying bigger. Hopefully we can help them.
