If there's ever a conversation that a man can't win, it's the "do I look fat in these jeans?"
Or, even a simple, "I feel fat."
In 16 years, there's never been anything my husband can say that helps. In fact, I'd have to say 75% of the time, whatever he says makes me angrier. The other 25% of the time, I make HIM angry. It's apparently a guy thing; he wants to fix the problem and there's no FUCKING FIX for it. For some reason, simply saying, "I'm sad that you feel that way. I've always found you exceptionally sexy." doesn't occur to him.
Acknowledge that I have a problem. Acknowledge that you can't do fuck-all about it. Reassure me that YOU LOVE ME ANYWAY.
Don't try to fix it. Don't suggest that I go back to Weight Watchers, or it's not that bad, or suggest we go for a walk, and for god's sake please do NOT tell me that you are also fat. Okay? I have eyes, and while yes, you're not a 30 anymore, you're still in size 34 jeans, you're still not even overweight - yes, I heard you weigh in the other day, and yes, I know you've gained about 20 pounds, however, you used to look like a stick and now you're just being a fuckstick. (I know, I know, you're NOT trying to be a fuckstick, but I've already said every ugly thing in the world to myself and you cannot fix my brain. You cannot relate to my brain, and you cannot make it shut up. I cannot make it shut up. My brain and my brain's absolute loathing for everything about me is not something that you can do anything about.)
The really aggravating thing is; I never felt thin, even when I got down to 127. I think part of that is why I went ahead and got fat again. There didn't seem to be a point to it. I wasn't any happier with how I looked when I was a 6. At least at a 16, I'm not fucking hungry all the time.
And yet, now, weight regained; I feel worse. I feel worse than I did BEFORE I started losing weight. So, all I accomplished in the last few years is having to buy 5 or 6 new wardrobes, and increased my amount of self-loathing.