chapter 4

Year 20:

Dearest Husband,

Many may look at our twenty years of marriage and may think it quite a feat in this day and age, but for me, loving you has been the easiest thing I've ever done. When I sat down to write this letter, I realized that there's not much more that's changed with our relationship. Honestly, I've made it pretty clear that you're the perfect man in my eyes, and that I've, well...grown into a suitable wife. Now, it's not that I ever doubted your love for me, it's just that after twenty years of marriage I'm confident that I've come to learn some deeper truths about your preferences. However, I've saved all those thoughts in a separate letter, one that I'll encourage you to read in great detail. And when you're done, I'll meet you in the bedroom.

I will love you, always.

Happy Anniversary!


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The Letter

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Dearest Husband,

Congratulations! As I'm sure you have realized, you are now the proud owner of your very own submissive, lazy, and overweight housewife. Now, I'm being serious when I say "owner", because I've come to realize that everything I have become has been in at least some way a result of your careful planning, encouraging words, and endless love. Let's face it, my mind, body, and soul completely belong to you.

And I love that.

When you married me I had just finished college. I was full of ambition, ready to begin my career and make a name for myself in my field. You quickly realized that having me work 10 hours days left little room to foster the relationship you wanted, so you convinced me to leave my job once we were more financially stable. Like with all things, you were subtle, but persistent. You saw an opening and prodded at my vulnerabilities just enough to get your way. Before I knew it, I was living a life of ease and my only responsibilities were cooking and doing laundry. I haven't worked a day in 13 years.

Just like the perfect homemaker you always wanted.

When you married me I had my fair share of insecurities. I wasn't someone who handled stress well and I was prone to bouts of sadness. You knew that I needed support and you took great pains to ensure that I was happy. You spoiled me, buying me everything and anything I ever wanted. A trip to the spa became a monthly routine. Clothes, jewelry, vacations - whatever it took to make me happy. With time it worked and I became very comfortable and content. I can't remember the last time I worried.

Just like the pampered princess you always wanted.

When you married me I was thin. I had a fondness for the occasional sweet, but I was able to keep my appetite in check. You understood that I was just putting on a show for the rest of the world, that if given the chance I would eat more - much more. So you gave me a life that made overindulgence possible, and reinforced it at every turn. I began to take comfort in eating, in a way that I never had before. The weight came on ever so gradually, transitioning me from one stage to the other. Slim to healthy. Healthy to chubby. Chubby to fat. Now, I never thought I'd ever utter these words but it's the absolute truth: I'm just about to tip the scales to become 200 pounds.

Just like the fat wife you always wanted.

Now, I don't want you to feel "caught", like I've finally uncovered some dark desire of yours. No, it's been a gradual realization that you've wanted me bigger and I've had plenty of time to process all the conflicting emotions that arose as I slowly let myself go over the years. I love how incredibly supportive you've been, how you managed to subtly nudge me towards indulgence all while respecting my own choices. After all, you didn't make me eat that entire quart of Cherry Garcia last week, you just noticed that it was on sale. And you didn't force me to get that fourth (or fifth, I lost track) plate at the buffet, you just reminded me to get our money's worth. Right?

Oh, yes, I guess you could say I'm now fully committed to your perspective on what makes a woman attractive. Remember when we first started dating, how you used to scold me whenever I would make fun of someone who had maybe gained little weight or was eating a large meal? It's incredible to me that not only have I reached the point of now only being the full-figured woman I used criticize, but I'm now actively trying to pamper others just like you've done to me!

I mean, have you seen Christine Hollins lately? I've been taking her to brunch at least once a week and she's filled out quite nicely, don't you think? There's a strange pleasure in encouraging someone to indulge themselves and knowing that you're partly responsible for them gradually becoming bigger, and bigger, and bigger...Ah, but of course I'm preaching to the choir aren't I? Now, if only poor Christine's husband shared our sensibilities. From what I hear, he's very upset with how she can't stop "eating like a pig" - his words, not mine. Well, if chubby little Christine eats like a pig, then he must think I eat like an elephant!