I had a secret — a terrible secret that I’d kept from my husband throughout our entire relationship. In fact, it was so bad that I thought it would tear us apart if I ever told him. It was something I hadn’t been honest about before we got involved. Even after we got together, I didn’t have the guts to go to him and come clean; that’s how ashamed I was. I feared that if I ever told him, he was going to tell me to go take a hike.
I’d lied about my weight
The thing I’d kept from my husband was my weight. Wil and I met online, got to talking, and then fell in love. At some point, a couple of months before we first met in person, the topic of weight was brought up in a conversation. He asked me how much I weighed. Panic shot through me; I figured that if I told him my actual weight he’d no longer be interested in meeting me, and so I lied.
See, weight has always been an enormous issue for me. With the media blowing everything out of proportion, to the point where weight appears to be one of the most important things ever (if you weigh more than Kate Upton you apparently really have a problem these days), I found myself unable to tell Wil how much I really weighed. I flat out lied every time the topic was brought up, even though he told me he thought I was attractive all the time – both before and after we first met. Instead of being honest, I always deducted approximately twenty pounds from my actual weight and gave him that amount.
I suppose it’s not uncommon to lie about your weight. Research points out that a lot of women lie about their weight when asked. In fact, a British study claims that as many as two-thirds of the women that were surveyed lie about their weight when asked. Some deduct only five pounds from their weight, but in my own circle I know of people who blatantly claim that they are around fifty pounds lighter than they actually are. It’s all part of the media’s indoctrination that makes us strive towards that one perfect number, and obviously, I am no different at all. When asked, I too feel embarrassed to tell anyone just how far away from “that number” I really am.
Forced to come clean
Last week I had an appointment with a doctor (the first doctor I’d seen after emigrating to the USA over two months prior). Since it was my first appointment with this doctor, I knew I’d probably be in for a full physical. I figured Wil would take notice of my actual weight during the check-up. Obviously I didn’t want him to find out that way, and so I was forced to come clean.
I went over potential scenarios in my head, thinking how I could best tell him. “Honey? Remember when we talked about my weight..?” and “Sweetheart, we need to talk…” or “Darling, I haven’t been entirely honest with you…” None of the sentences I came up with had a positive ending in my mental scenarios. I got more and more anxious by the minute. I kept putting off telling him for days at a time.
Blurting it out
Eventually though, I couldn’t keep it in, and I blurted out my dirty little secret while we were cuddling. My husband wasn’t even remotely angry. Instead, he just smiled at me and said, “I kinda figured, most girls lie about their weight.” He proceeded to tell me, “I really don’t care about the number, I absolutely love everything about you, including your shape.” That just shows how much I’ve let this weight thing take on astronomical proportions (pun intended). Just don’t ask me to state my weight here; I haven’t come that far yet.