My dad was given a terminal cancer diagnosis with 12-18 months to live. Grim, I know, but this happened when I was at my thinnest adult weight (an athletic 185/size 14 US) and had ended a sexless joke of a non-“relationship” relationship just hours before that bombshell dropped.
I’d toyed around with the idea of gaining since I discovered feedism and put a name to why the thought of growing a belly hang made me cum so freaking hard. But up until that day I pictured myself finding an FA but keeping my fetish to myself, in fantasy only except for being fiercely body positive and secretly enjoying any accidental gains I might have.
What a halfhearted waste of a life experience mine would have been if I’d never had that existential slap in the face, or one that came with the freedom of starting over in a new country, and also a built in excuse to explain away the kind of weight gain that makes loved ones gossip and debate whether they should intervene; I moved overseas to help my birth dad die - of course I was going to “comfort eat” my way through it all!
So, yeah, TL;DR is I once had a mortality-based epiphany that made me gain 150 lbs 🤣
4 years