I Got Called A BBW, Here’s Why I’m Okay With That

Real women have curves, and real men like curves.

Not so long ago I rejoined the social media platfom of the kinky world, Fetlife. My intentions were pure enough – to pass on my condolences following the passing of my dear friend Mistress Anita – but then I decided to hang around a while. Other bloggers use social media to promote their work, I gathered, and many social media platforms, typically, have a bit of an issue with anything too sexy or kinky. On Fetlife then, I could promote my kinky blog to other kinky people to my heart’s content.

I hatched a plan to try and post something two or three times per week to be active on the platform, as well as to promote my blog. Something. Anything. It didn’t matter, as long as I was an active presence.

Quite soon, my follower count started to increase. I was honoured, but I thought they were following because I might be famous. I was wrong.

Several of the men who followed me also loved BBWs and I am, some might say, a BBW. They didn’t love me because I’m a blogger, they loved me because I’m fat.

At first I was offended – how dare they fetishize my fat?! Don’t they see how unhealthy it is? How hard is is to get stylish clothes in these sizes? How dare they fetishize me full stop!

But then something in me clicked – at a time when I thought I was least perfect, these men loved me most of all.

Fat Me, Thin Me: The Downward Descent

In 2004 and at the tender age of 15, I had what I’d convinced myself was a heart attack. The fact that I was rushing around and in an unfamiliar setting didn’t occur to me, I was convinced that it was a cardiac event. Feeling my heart race, hearing it thumping away inside me and feeling my lips and fingers tingle, I was certain that my time had come. My goose was cooked I thought, I was going to die right in the middle of Tesco.

Somehow and almost as quickly as it came, it calmed. My heart rate restored, breathing became easier, the darkness that had descended on me had now lifted and I was able to see again. I felt tired and shaky for several hours, but that was okay, I’d survived.

But that was also a turning point for me.

Traumatised by that experience, I convinced myself that my 100-kilogram ass had to shift the weight before it killed me. To shed the pounds, I embarked on my own unregulated, highly dysfunctional weight loss journey.

This image is quite literally saved on my laptop as “fatmethinme.jpg”!

The Road To Self-Destruction

For the most part, my new diet consisted of one key thing: apples. I’d have apples as a snack, apple instead of a chocolate biscuit with my lunch and apple for dessert. Sometimes I’d have an apple like some people have an after dinner mint too, because the best way to keep my meal from sticking to my hips was to, you know, help it through.

It gets worse. Much worse.

Any meal I had, I’d only eat half of it. If it had cheese on it, I would scrape the cheese off. I wouldn’t butter my bread for sandwiches (because butter and spreads were unneccessary fat) and I’d calorie count everything. Saturated fats mattered most to me, and I’d only ever consume enough of anything in a day to have no more than fifteen grams of saturated fat, below my allowed daily twenty grams. Sometimes I’d allow myself a teaspoon of cream or a piece of chocolate, but then I’d make myself spit it out and go eat an apple instead, heaven forbid it bought on another heart attack.

At my lowest point, I remember pulling the cheese out of a cheese salad sandwich, in public. I remember some men laughing and commenting on my odd behaviour, but I didn’t care, I was staying healthy. In reality, I was anything but.

I was obsessed with BMI, obsessed with staying at the ‘perfect 25’. If the scales leaned even just a tiny bit towards what used to be, I’d starve myself for most of the next day. No matter what, the scales had to read ten and a half stones, at all times. My mother said I was beautiful, I say I was anorexic. Which one it is? I’ll let you decide:

A Helping Hand (My Road To Recovery)

If you ask my husband, then he still maintains that at the start of our relationship, I was a “pain in the ass”. I wouldn’t eat anything fried, and pizza – with it’s handfuls of cheese and processed meats – was certainly off of the menu. While my friends were divulging on unhealthy treats, I would insist on a salad, a jacket potato, or I’d just refuse to eat completely. I was a complete killjoy, and I’m extremely lucky they all kept a hold of me.

But, I think, Matt saw what was really going on. Even if I was healthy on the surface, I was very unhealthy inside. He never forced me, but he did try and change me.

Just one small slice of pizza, or half, or whatever I was comfortable with, just to give it a go and see that it won’t kill me. So I did, and it didn’t.

So then half a slice became one whole slice, and a whole slice became two. I stopped worrying that the pizza might give me a heart attack. I lived to live, I lived to enjoy pizza.

Then we extended that. A fat free yogurt at lunchtime became a low-fat yogurt with chocolate sprinkles. Half a sandwich became a whole sandwich with an agreeable, not-too-unhealthy filling. An ice cream with a walk in the park wasn’t a bad thing, because I’d probably have burned off the calories by the time we got back to the bus stop anyway. Apples became less, they became just when I wanted one, like at lunchtime, or mid-afternoon.

Oh sure, the weight went back on, but I stopped panicking, I stopped caring, I was less anxious about what might happen next and instead I lived for the moment. If my clothes no longer fit I just went shopping and found something new that fit me. My relationship with food and BMI didn’t matter to me anymore, my relationship with life, love and laughter did.

Pud so good, I made it myself 😉 my lemon cheesecake with ginger ice cream – Yum!

Life As a BBW

I’ve forgotten the last time that I jumped on the scales, and I couldn’t tell you what my waist size is because frankly, I don’t care. I go now by what fits and what looks good when I look in the mirror, not by what the numbers say. I’ve got some work to do for sure (thank you grief, thank you lockdown), but I don’t have a goal in mind, apart from to be more active and therefore fitter. I don’t have a “bad” diet – I’m a conscious eater, but I’m not a health fanatic anymore. If I fancy a nice crisp green salad with a splash of white wine vinegar, then I’ll have it. If I fancy a beefburger with all of the trimmings, I’ll have that too.

And what about in other areas?

Despite everything, men love and notice me much more now than they ever did when I could squeeze my ass into a pair of size 10 jeans. My once-monogamous self is now in an open marriage, and I have two amazing men in my life who make me feel like the strong, beautiful, larger woman that I am. I have more sex, I have more laughs, and I have more friends than I did when I was uptight about where we ate, or what. Sure, boys might like girls with slim bodies and flawless skin, but real men like women with curves and to be honest, it’s real men that I much prefer to spend my time with anyway.

One of the sexiest, silliest, unfiltered (and most recent) selfies I’ve ever taken! These are my blue-light blocking glasses, but that didn’t stop me 😉
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4 thoughts on “I Got Called A BBW, Here’s Why I’m Okay With That

  1. Oh wow, what a great and honest story, which must’ve required lots of courage to share. Plus I think this is the first time I’m seeing the face behind the blog, so that’s amazing too!

    As someone who eats salad and oats every day because he enjoys it, it’s interesting to see how others approach or view the subject. Your experience definitely changes the way you see things. I myself never cared for diets or health at all until my late twenties. And even then, I do it because I want to perform better in sports instead of losing weight or being healthy (because being able to perform in my sport means getting my ass kicked less, and that’s a VERY good motivator, lol).

    But I like how you brought to light how even ‘healthy’ practices can be detrimental, and we’re much more complex than just our diets would make us. Thanks for your honesty here, and for this story that might help others who are in the same boat as you were in. Great one, Helen!

    1. Thank you Stuart, and I’m glad thart the face behind the blog hasn’t scared you away! Haha.

      I think you’re definitely right, and even when you think about things like nutritional supplementation, it’s more complicated than just “Vitamin B”; there’s B3,B6,B9, B12, probably some other B’s I’ve missed, D vitamins, Omega 3, Omega 6, Omega 9, pre and probiotics, shall I go on? Lol. It’s not just about taking or consuming one thing and being healthy or unhealthy, we’re a whole system of checks and balances.

      Dark chocolate is another great example of an unhealthy food that can be done right. If you consume a whole bar of dark chocolate then of course you’re going to gain weight (and if you’re like me, probably get a migraine from hell too lol), but just two squares a day can actually be good for you and can help to combat low moods and depression. The fat-free Atkins diet, Dr Atkins himself died of a heart failure and was considered “fat”, even if he didn’t consume the substance! We need anything and everything – even the unhealthy parts sometimes – just in moderation.

      Haha! I can see how your sport would be a good motivator. I used to train in aikido and aikibudo, it definitely pays not to be carrying around the extra pounds lol. I do miss it but they got shut down – unpadded concerete pillars in the middle of the training tatami is kind of a bit of a problem, lol.

      As always, thank you for stopping by, Stuart!

      1. Lol, my way of moderation is eating whatever the hell I want for dinner. So while I don’t have cheat days, I allow myself to indulge at night. And weirdly enough, because of that, I actually choose the more sensible options (e.g. home-cooked protein and veg).

        Lol yes, we get a lot of concrete pillars in my local gyms too. Building codes, eh? But at least I have luxurious rubber mats which are comfortable to fall on. Falling on tatami would suck just that much more.

      2. That’s a very interesting idea. Usually I have a very light lunch, maybe a leafy salad and some grilled chicken or something, and I make dessert jellies for lunch using sugar-free jelly and semi-skimmed milk so I can have something sweet that only has about 50 calories. I like something slightlier heavier for dinner though, because that’s when I get to sit down and socialise. Home cooking is definitely the way to go, I even have a routine on my Google speaker that turns the worktop lights on at 7pm to make my kitchen that much more fancy while I cook. Not even sorry! Hehe.

        What?! That’s crazy, I thought it was just our centre but that it seems to be happening elsewhere in the world? Yikes! We used to joke about the “air conditioning” too – a lot of the windows had holes in them lol. Haha yes, tatami are niot too forgiving but trainers always had the attitude that if you know how to break fall, it’s going to hurt a lot less. We used to spend probably the first 30 minutes just throwing ourselves around and practicing our break falls just as a part of warm-up! Haha. I think some martial arts training centres use rubber mats, but ours was keeping things authentic so we had tatami. I should imagine rubber mats can be a bit softer under foot though?

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