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I may make zero sense, but that would be about 100% more than my bf makes. Let's see if you agree.
When I met my bf a year and a half ago, I weighed 145 lbs. Wow, I was a confident mo-foing ****. Part of the attraction for him, I think. Except, as the scale went up, the confidence level went down. Maybe the body was no longer there, I told myself, but I could certainly outsmart him. "I love your brain" he'd affectionately say. Awwwww. When I decided to take off the extra weight, my wonderful bf said, "You have my FULL support." Finally, a man who supports me. He's no Slim Jim, mind you, but I politely accepted his offer to eat only the things I could eat when we were together. "What a great guy. I really love my bf," I thought. His 100% support lasted about a week. We'd go out to eat, I'd have a chicken ceasar salad and he'd have a bacon double cheese burger with fries. "Good for you" he'd say. I'd console myself with an "At least he pays for dinner."
So I started the day after Christmas, right? He's been giving me this kind of "good for you" support for about five weeks now. I've lost about 11 pounds. The scale hasn't budged in a coupla weeks, and as my frustration goes up, my tolerance level for his "full support" is slipping.
So, about a week ago, we make arrangements for a ski weekend with friends this past weekend. We get up early Saturday morning and head for our sooper secret little resort town about three hours north. Being a guy who likes to be prepared, we stop for gas, fill up, and he jumps in the car with a roll of Hostess donuts--chocolate. "Is there anything in there you can eat?" he asks. "Nope, I'm good," I say politely. Off we go. "Munch, munch, munch," I hear, as I'm wincing. He doesn't notice. I must say, that guy had a blast. Super tacos, tater tots, ice cream, Snicker's bars, cheesecake, scalloped potatoes, hashbrowns, sourdough toast with jelly, more Snickers, honey roasted peanuts and the list goes on. Ooooooo, he had a good time. I had a nice omelette, a very nice steak, a dinner salad, etc. "Good for you!" he exclaims each time. He has no idea how much that sweet statement from him warms my little heart.
Well, fun's over and it's time to head home. We want to get a jump on the traffic and get home in time for the Super Bowl, so after breakfast we scurry for the highway. I'm hoping he's okay to drive after an extra large plate of biscuits & gravy. Oh, we need to stop for gas. "Want anything?" he asks. "Nope, I'm good," I say. "Okay, be right back," he says, goes inside and pays, then hops in the car and proceeds to snarf down the King sized Snickers he just purchased. I get real, real quiet. So, about 20 minutes into one or two word responses from me, he says, "What's wrong?" Now, this man knows me. I get quiet when I'm pissed. It's better this way. I can get over a huff in about, say 45 minutes, if I keep quiet and talk myself out of it. But nooooooo, I get lectured about communicating and how important it is to verbalize my feelings, blah, blah, blah, so I say, "Well, I'm unhappy about the Snicker's bar." "What?" he says disbelieving. "It's true. For the better part of the weekend, you've been eating things in front of me that you know I cannot eat and that Snicker's bar sent me over the edge." Youda thunk that would have garnered some sort of "Aw, jeez, Sam, I'm sorry." Uh-uh. I got, "What? You're pissed over a Snicker's bar? That makes no sense!" Then, he proceeds to accuse me of attempting to ruin an entire weekend over a Snicker's bar. I tried to explain my position, but he kept saying, "This is silly, it was just a Snicker's bar!" I tried to tell him that he could not summarize my being upset over his behavior that way, but he insisted. Over and over he insisted. Yeesh. Now he's mad--really mad. I told him that he should let me keep my yap shut. Quite frankly, I was pissed about the Hostess donuts two days ago and see, because I said nothing we had a really good time skiing. Too bad I had to later "ruin the entire weekend over a Snicker's bar" by taking his excellent advice and verbalizing my feelings.
Perhaps someday an anvil will magically fall from the sky, pummel me two feet into the pavement, and knock my bf's sort of sense into me. Not today. Way more than 45 minutes later, I think he was completely nonsupportive and insensitive. If he was watching his weight, I wouldn't snarf down crap he can't eat in front of him. It just isn't nice. Right guys?
When I met my bf a year and a half ago, I weighed 145 lbs. Wow, I was a confident mo-foing ****. Part of the attraction for him, I think. Except, as the scale went up, the confidence level went down. Maybe the body was no longer there, I told myself, but I could certainly outsmart him. "I love your brain" he'd affectionately say. Awwwww. When I decided to take off the extra weight, my wonderful bf said, "You have my FULL support." Finally, a man who supports me. He's no Slim Jim, mind you, but I politely accepted his offer to eat only the things I could eat when we were together. "What a great guy. I really love my bf," I thought. His 100% support lasted about a week. We'd go out to eat, I'd have a chicken ceasar salad and he'd have a bacon double cheese burger with fries. "Good for you" he'd say. I'd console myself with an "At least he pays for dinner."
So I started the day after Christmas, right? He's been giving me this kind of "good for you" support for about five weeks now. I've lost about 11 pounds. The scale hasn't budged in a coupla weeks, and as my frustration goes up, my tolerance level for his "full support" is slipping.
So, about a week ago, we make arrangements for a ski weekend with friends this past weekend. We get up early Saturday morning and head for our sooper secret little resort town about three hours north. Being a guy who likes to be prepared, we stop for gas, fill up, and he jumps in the car with a roll of Hostess donuts--chocolate. "Is there anything in there you can eat?" he asks. "Nope, I'm good," I say politely. Off we go. "Munch, munch, munch," I hear, as I'm wincing. He doesn't notice. I must say, that guy had a blast. Super tacos, tater tots, ice cream, Snicker's bars, cheesecake, scalloped potatoes, hashbrowns, sourdough toast with jelly, more Snickers, honey roasted peanuts and the list goes on. Ooooooo, he had a good time. I had a nice omelette, a very nice steak, a dinner salad, etc. "Good for you!" he exclaims each time. He has no idea how much that sweet statement from him warms my little heart.
Well, fun's over and it's time to head home. We want to get a jump on the traffic and get home in time for the Super Bowl, so after breakfast we scurry for the highway. I'm hoping he's okay to drive after an extra large plate of biscuits & gravy. Oh, we need to stop for gas. "Want anything?" he asks. "Nope, I'm good," I say. "Okay, be right back," he says, goes inside and pays, then hops in the car and proceeds to snarf down the King sized Snickers he just purchased. I get real, real quiet. So, about 20 minutes into one or two word responses from me, he says, "What's wrong?" Now, this man knows me. I get quiet when I'm pissed. It's better this way. I can get over a huff in about, say 45 minutes, if I keep quiet and talk myself out of it. But nooooooo, I get lectured about communicating and how important it is to verbalize my feelings, blah, blah, blah, so I say, "Well, I'm unhappy about the Snicker's bar." "What?" he says disbelieving. "It's true. For the better part of the weekend, you've been eating things in front of me that you know I cannot eat and that Snicker's bar sent me over the edge." Youda thunk that would have garnered some sort of "Aw, jeez, Sam, I'm sorry." Uh-uh. I got, "What? You're pissed over a Snicker's bar? That makes no sense!" Then, he proceeds to accuse me of attempting to ruin an entire weekend over a Snicker's bar. I tried to explain my position, but he kept saying, "This is silly, it was just a Snicker's bar!" I tried to tell him that he could not summarize my being upset over his behavior that way, but he insisted. Over and over he insisted. Yeesh. Now he's mad--really mad. I told him that he should let me keep my yap shut. Quite frankly, I was pissed about the Hostess donuts two days ago and see, because I said nothing we had a really good time skiing. Too bad I had to later "ruin the entire weekend over a Snicker's bar" by taking his excellent advice and verbalizing my feelings.
Perhaps someday an anvil will magically fall from the sky, pummel me two feet into the pavement, and knock my bf's sort of sense into me. Not today. Way more than 45 minutes later, I think he was completely nonsupportive and insensitive. If he was watching his weight, I wouldn't snarf down crap he can't eat in front of him. It just isn't nice. Right guys?
here's a hug for resisting temptation that was shoved in your face all weekend! Great job!!!
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kids
And who knows? Maybe once he sees how good you look he will want to change the way he eats too!
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