Chapter 1 - How it started

I never imagined I could change this much. That my body—once strong, agile, dependable—would become a cage. And that it all started with what I thought was love.

I met Clara in college. She was sweet, funny, and always had something cooking. In the first month we dated, she brought me homemade pastries, rich stews, buttery casseroles. I felt flattered, even lucky. Who wouldn’t want a partner who cooked like that?

“You’re so skinny,” she’d say with a smile, handing me another plate. “You need to eat more" and I did, i liked making her happy, and I loved how everything she made tasted.

At first, I didn’t notice the changes. I gained a few pounds, sure, but I blamed stress and less exercise. Clara insisted on bringing me food in bed. Said I worked too hard and deserved to relax. Gradually, I stopped getting up early. Then I stopped going to the gym. Eventually, I got used to her bringing me everything—breakfast, lunch, even dinner on the couch.

By six months in, none of my old clothes fit. Clara bought me new ones. “You look even better now,” she whispered, running her hands over my growing belly. I laughed with her. I thought she just loved me unconditionally.

But the weight didn’t stop.

Soon, I was sweating from walking stairs. Then came the breathlessness just from walking around the apartment. Clara began helping me shower. She started dressing me, trimming my nails. I let her. I thought it was tenderness. Devotion.

It wasn’t until I realized I couldn’t get off the couch without her help that it hit me.

“You’re perfect like this,” she said, kissing my round, soft cheeks. By then, I weighed over 450 pounds. I moved clumsily, panting just to turn over in bed. Clara was always beaming. Always cooking. Always feeding. Her hands on my belly like it was something sacred.

I tried to stop. I asked for lighter meals. She cried. Told me I was breaking what we had. That everything she did was out of love.

I wanted to believe her. I really did.

Until one night, trying to stand up for the bathroom, my legs just… didn’t respond. I didn’t fall. I couldn’t even get up enough to fall. It was like my body had drawn a line. A point of no return.

That’s when I understood.

Clara hadn’t fattened me out of simple affection. Or maybe she had—but not in the way I believed. She had made me dependent. Carefully cultivated every pound, every inch of flesh, until there was no room left for my own will. I no longer decided anything. She decided for me.

And the most terrifying part?

Some part of me still loved her.