‘Slipping under the duvet last Friday night, I waited in anticipation for my
wife Martha, 34. Our kids Brianna, nine, and Riley, three, were tucked up in
bed so there was no chance of being interrupted. After a busy week I was
definitely in the mood as I dimmed the bedside light.
Unfortunately for me, Martha wasn’t. She hurried into the bedroom and climbed
into bed, tightly wrapped up in a dressing gown so I couldn’t see her nude.
Far from the night of passion I had mentally planned, she gave me a peck on
the cheek and turned out the light.
I put my arm around her, but a weary sigh made it clear she wasn’t interested.
There are three of us in this marriage: me, Martha and her diet obsesson. And
when she’s having a ‘fat day’, sex is definitely off the menu.
I used to take it personally. I’d wonder if she didn’t fancy me – but now
she’s explainined it hundreds of times – I know it’s all down to how she
feels about herself.
Martha still refuses to walk around in front of me naked, after 10 years
together.
I try to see it as cute that she cares about what I think, but it’s sad that
she feels this way about her body. There are times when I wish she’d just
trust me and realise I’d never judge the way she looks.
It’s not just sex, of course. During the evening, there’s nothing I’d love
more than a cuddle on the sofa with Martha, with a pizza and beer while we
watch TV – like a normal couple. But more often than not, Martha’s engrossed
in the latest diet fad on the internet and it’s as if I don’t exist.
Most of the time I just accept it, but there are times when I do feel as
though I’m competing with a calorie spreadsheet – and never going to win!
Weight problem
Martha, a beauty therapist, was a size 10 when we first met in 2001. It was on
a night out with mutual friends. I thought she was stunning – I still do.
But since then, her weight’s fluctuated between 7st 5lb and a size 6-8, to
11st and a size 16, and the happiness of our relationship has fluctuated
with it.
Even now, at 10st, 5ft 4in and a size 10-12, she’s not happy with her body –
so her faddy dieting continues – and I, and our marriage, feel the strain of
it.
She’s tried everything from Atkins to low-cal shakes to the Special K diet,
and even went through a stage of drinking cider vinegar to suppress her
appetite.
And if Martha’s on a diet, I have to go on it too, as she thinks it helps with
her willpower (even though she never sticks to them because they’re
unsustainable).
I’m a kung fu instructor – I have to eat properly so I have enough energy. The
last thing I want at the end of the day is a plate of raw broccoli and
pickled herring.
Just after Christmas, Martha subjected me to a calorie-restricted diet, where
I wasn’t allowed to eat more than 1,500 calories a day. I felt exhausted and
completely lacking in energy. It was pure torture and I was constantly
starving.
I’ve often had to resort to secret eating. While Martha’s in the shower, I
fill up on toast, and I regularly sneak out for fry-ups. I tell Martha I’m
going for a walk, but in reality, I’m in the local greasy spoon rubbing my
hands in glee as I order eggs, sausages, mushrooms and fried bread.
I wish I didn’t have to stalk around like this. It’s just another way that her
eternal dieting is affecting our marriage.
Martha’s naturally a very bubbly, fun person, but when she’s feeling low about
her body, or is grumpy from feeling hungry, we’ll bicker, which I hate.
The trouble is, she feels bad about herself whether she’s a size 6 or size 16.
No matter how much I tell her that she’s gorgeous, I can’t win. I’d hate for
anyone to think it’s me making Martha diet as I love her whatever she looks
like.
I worry about Riley and Brianna picking up on their mum’s insecurities.
Thankfully, Martha is really good at making sure the children balance treats
with healthy food, but when she stands in front of the mirror and asks me if
she looks fat, I do worry they’re taking it all in.
One valuable lesson I’ve learned as the husband of a perpetual dieter is that
you should never be honest when you’re asked: ‘Do I look fat in this?’
Once, as a joke, I told Martha she did look a bit big and she burst into
tears. I managed to calm her down, but she was off with me for the rest of
the day.
I love Martha, faddy diets and all, I just wish she could see that she doesn’t
need to be on them, and that they’re not good for us as a couple. It’s her
sweet personality and wicked sense of humour I fell in love with, not the
size of her bum.
If she could see things from my perspective, maybe she’d be less hung up on
her body and be the confident woman she deserves to be.”
Martha says “I constantly feel guilty that my weight battle affects our
marriage. I just wish Peter could understand that I’ll never feel 100 per
cent confident about my body.
I’ve got wobbly bits all over – how can Peter possibly find that sexy? Surely
he must pine for the chub-free girl he met all those years ago?
As a mum, I try to keep my dieting a secret – I couldn’t bear for my children
to be as body conscious as me.
If I’m really honest I’d love to get off this dieting roller coaster as it’s
exhausting. But I can’t. I’m stuck – and I’m scared that it’s just going to
get worse, because I know as I get older it will become harder to keep
weight off.
So poor old Peter will just have to put up with my crazy diets – and be a bit
more discreet about his secret liaisons with the local greasy spoon!”
