I cannot begin to explain the disappointment I feel about myself.  I let my divorce get the best of me and allowed myself to binge on little white donuts and every other comfort food known to woman.  I now weigh 235.  I used to weigh 165.  My lowest and where I feel the best is 135.  But I have never been 235.   That was before HER.  I don’t blame HER.  I blame HIM but she allowed herself to belive his lies and I had to find out about her.  Funny, you’re a wife and partner for 10 years and you have to find out about someone? 

 It’s been four years and I have managed to avoid really dealing with it.  I have a wonderful boyfriend who doesn’t know me slim and still loves me.  My ex married HER, she’s his third wife.  I realize by not dealing with it and am stuffing my face to keep from feeling.  I have to say it so I can move past it.  Although I have talked to my boyfriend about it, it’s not the same.  I have to write it, say it, feel it, and move past it.  The it is this - IT HURT!  It was painful, embarrassing, shocking, and mean.  I tried to be such a grown up when I found out.  Trust me, it’s not the first time he messed around; more like the third but each time there was an excuse.  The first time, the excuse was “she was naked”. She was his exwife and I trusted him to go to Florida to see his kids.  The next time was the stripper at his  bachelor party - he was really drunk that time.  The third time, the last time, was because we were having problems and she made him feel good about himself.  There were more,  I know.  I don’t know the details though.  Details of infidility are so painful to hear.  I only confronted him with the others when the truth screamed in my stupid face.  He told me he loved her right away.  Like 10 years meant nothing.  He bought her diamond earrings right away - on our account.  I had to wait 4 years before I was worthy of diamond earrings.  She didn’t.  I have never met her or really seen her.  I found a picture of her in my house after he moved out.  She is blond, I am brunette.  I am sure she is a nice person.  Maybe a person I would have been friends with in a different life.   I don’t know.  All I know is that I quit caring.  I felt like such a failure at marriage, relationships, trusting, and everything else that goes with it.  Is it because I was physically, mentally, and sexually abused as a child.  I don’t know.  But I really thought Mike was it.  I was so wrong. 

My boyfriend now is wonderful although we had a rough start of it.  Both of us expecting the other one to give up I guess.  But it didn’t happen.  He would like to get married.  That scares me to death.  Marriage — why?  I love him.  Can’t we be like other couples who are committed but don’t get married?  There seems to be something secure about that.  We’re together because we want to be.  Not because we signed a paper and we have to be.  I loved the thought of marriage before.  I loved having a husband, like he was mine that no one could take or have.  Boy, was I wrong there. 

 Before I can think about marriage, I need to get this weight, this excess baggage off of me and admit that I loved Mike and I miss him sometimes.  Although it’s not really him I miss, it’s what I thought we had.  By putting this down and I hoping to move past it. 

Because I have gained so much weight, I am scared I won’t be able to lose it.  I am 42 and I am afraid I have failed.  By putting pen to paper (you know what  I mean) I hope to release the fear that holds me hostage and  I am allowed to florish again.

Thanks for listening.Â