Chapter 1

Sinner- part 1

The waiter in the small cozy café with the wide comfortable couches handed me two plates, each with a large piece of cake on it. His name was Tom. I knew because, due to my apartment being close as well as my weakness for pastries, i came here regularly. Well maybe i should say often, regarding the past three months. I thanked Tom, glad that I didn‘t have to go through that awkward moment, when the waiter thinks he has confused the order and you have to say out loud that there is no mistake and that you ordered both pieces for yourself. Tom already knew they were both for me.

Years ago, when i first started coming here, i‘m pretty sure he had a serious crush on me. I had just gotten together with my now exboyfriend, wich dindn‘t keep Tom from always being very flirty with me. But after the first year i started to gain weight. The first 15 lbs didn‘t seem to bother him but when i passed 170 lbs he dropped the flirting, cutting it back to being just normally nice to me.

When my weight had mounted to 192 lbs. my boyfriend left me for my incapability to loose what i had gained, or even maintain my current weight. By the time we got together i was close to the skinniest i had ever been in my life. Only twice before had I weighed less. First time was at age 13-14 were i had a phase of starving myself from a big child and chubby teenager to looking what was the beauty standard back then. You had to be be just as thin so there would be rumors about you being anorexic and when adults, said you looked sick, you took it as a compliment.

I can not really remember why and when this stopped but when i graduated (at 19 yo where i live) i weighed about 165 lbs. This is pretty much for the standard of high school graduates regarding the fact i’m only 5,4 ft. In hindsight i think it was a mixture of new (and better) friends, starting to smoke weed a lot and probably most of all my ever existing desire to eat fighting through again. I had developed thick thighs with backsides covered with cellulite despite my young age. My boobs had blown up from puberty and the overflow of calories i was offering to a metabolism, that wanted nothing more than to pack on. At prom night a little fat roll was sitting on my full thighs when i sat down, well visibly despite wearing the Spanx my mom bought me under my a little too tight dress.

My insatiable longing for food has been there as long as i can remember. I was overweight before learning what this even meant. My mother tried to raise me healthy but she herself had been yoyoing all her life and for sure had some misconceptions about what was healthy. Sweets were her common reward for good behavior and even though i was offered to try whatever hobby i wanted, she didn’t force me to do any kind of physical activities either. So i didn‘t stick to any of the sports i tried.
Also there were always lots of sweets and food in general available in our house. I weren‘t allowed to just eat as much as i wanted but i was a master at stealing more without anyone noticing. Eating in secrecy became a habit. After i had moved out and the topic came up my mom told me that she had known that all along.

When i graduated i hated myself for the weakness of getting fat again and of course had the goal to be thin soon. I always had that goal.

I lost a little bit of weight but not enough. Then the excessive partying started. And i’m not talking of getting drunk and falling asleep while eating pasta at 3.30. I’m talking about doing drugs and raving for three days straight maybe eating a banana in 24 h hours but only to avoid collapsing not because I wanted to. I got very skinny and loved it. I turned out to be a real magnet for men. My best friend and roommate back then once told me that she was jealous of me because all the boys we met kept falling in love with me. One day after a weekend of partying i stepped on the scale at a friends house. I weighed 102 lbs. That’s when i got together with my first boyfriend.

We were partying less and less, only chilled and smoked weed. When i stopped doing chemical drugs my appetite came back strong as ever. I gained weight, not enough to be considered fat by others but more than enough to feel fat again. After three years he left me for someone else. Probably not because i put on a few lbs.. We had many problems, but of corse i projected it on my weightgain. Apart from the pain of loosing my first love i was crushed by the feeling of guilt and shame, that my binging on fattening foods from time to time had contributed to it. The self hatred and the heartbreak knocked out my appetite and i managed to loose some weight, felt better, went back to partying and doing drugs. i got skinny again and with that, or perhaps it also was the confidence that came with it, man were getting back in line for me.

One would think i should have learned from my mistakes. But again someone fell in love with the exceptionally slim version of myself, which i had not been able to become without the help of a heartbreak and drugs. I fell in love with him too. We got together. I was at 110 lbs. Deep down i knew i would not be able to maintain it. My boyfriend was always open about only being into slim and fit bodies. In the beginning he was crazy over mine. I also liked it back then. I was so slim that i could finally drop the thought anybody could find me ,,to much’’. I now had something fragile about me and i kept getting estimated younger than i was. Together with my long blonde hair, my dark blue eyes and my pretty face i seemed to tick all boxes on the how-admirable-is-she-questionnaire many seem to use to define a women’s worth.

The Sex was good at first but not enough for my taste, as it hadn‘t been enough in my first relationship. Because as of all good things, like sex, drugs… or food, you name it, i always wanted more, more, more. Only excess can satisfy me for a moment but still i‘ll be wanting more soon.

I kept it up a while but at some point the pounds started coming back on. The routine of working and studying hit, we fucked less. I was reliving my trauma. Besides just loving sex and wishing he would take me dirtier and more often, i also needed it as confirmation of still being sexy enough, of being good enough.

When i wasn‘t touched i got insecure. Already at 5 pounds gained, i felt his eyes on me when i ate chocolate or pizza. I knew he attentively observed the people around him, had an eye for the detail, so i couldn‘t tell myself that he probably didn‘t even notice. More than once had i heard him make comments about someone having put on weight. Often i couldn’t even see what he meant. When i was about 120 lbs i started to avoid being naked in front of him and when i couldn’t avoid it i felt fat under his eyes and hands. I crumbled under the relived feeling of being a failure. Already having issues with that, i would have needed someone who was putting less pressure on me than i already put on myself, instead i got someone who was known to put extremely high measures not only to himself but to his surrounding alike. He had a sharp sense for the sorrow spot of people and he liked to put his finger on it. I had witnessed him doing so on others more than once. And of corse he knew too well where my sorrow spot was.

As i gained another 5 pounds he started pushing it. At first he was subtle about it. He would drop comments like ,,did you already finish the box of cereals? Didn’t you buy it yesterday?’’ or he would place his hand exactly where my now a little to tight jeans dug into my hips and rest it there, or when he spooned me he put his hand on my litte bit of belly. I’m sure he knew that i sucked it in then, but i wasn’t able to relax and let my belly fall into his hand to let it examine the proof of my overeating. You might read that and think, you dummy, he was probably turned on by your extra padding. Sadly that was not his motivation. He did all that to let me know, he had noticed, i had gotten bigger, that he felt how soft i’d gotten and that he disapproved of it. There was no sexual reaction of him touching me like this and it never lead to sex. If that had worked for him it would definitely have worked for me as well. Humiliation kinda turns me on. If we had turned shaming and punishing me for my weight into a kinky thing, him getting aroused by humiliating me, i would have soaked my underwear, but he didn’t humiliate me because it turned him on. He knew the shame i felt in those moments and he just enjoyed to make me suffer. It was him punishing me for my weakness. It felt as if i deserved it.

At that time a bad habit i had since my youngest childhood snuck back into my life. I startet to eat secretly. I‘d hide the chocolates i bought from him to eat them later locked in the bathroom when he was asleep or i binged them down on my way home. Sometimes i said i‘d meat friends, but instead i‘d go out and eat until i was full, because with him around i only ate portions that left me hungry. As a surgeon he had to work nightshifts frequently. On those nights i bought all the things i was ashamed to eat under his judging gaze. The emotional stress of constantly feeling guilty and ashamed of every bit of food i ate degraded my will and lit up my urge to binge eat. Also i was constantly horny and it had been two month since he fucked the last time. Once after that i made an attempt. He just sighed annoyedly when i pressed myself against him, spooning him, gently rubbing his dick through his boxers. He took my hand away and told me to stop it. Then he turned back to sleep. No further explanation, no apology. I still remember how i was laying next to him in the dark, tears rolling down my cheeks not making the slightest sound.

I mean i knew him not seeing what i ate wouldn‘t prevent him from seeing the changes it did to my body. At that point he had me feeling like a whale for quite some time, while most other people would still consider me slim or normal. But my secret binges had put so much fat on me, i had crossed the line from slim to normal to chubby. And i was hyper aware of that. I saw how full my face had gotten, my boobs were bigger and softer. When i walked i was constantly aware of my thighs touching each other. I had gotten uncomfortable wearing leggings in public because my thighs and my ass had grown visibly. One day i noticed that in a certain lighting i could see the cellulite that had appeared on the back of my thighs just beneath my round and full ass. That was the day i stopped wearing them completely, neither in public, nor at home. Because i had always loved wearing leggings i didn‘t own many other pants and those i had, had gotten so tight that they cut into my softened and slightly wider hips and put the spotlight on what i was trying to hide. That was about the time Tom stopped flirting with me.

It may sound as if i had given up already at that point, that i had accepted being bigger now. But that wasn‘t true at all. I was still fighting to lose weight again with everything i had, but my longing to eat had overtaken me. The times i was with him and i could not really eat, were already consuming all the willpower i had left. I was so tired of years of feeling terrible for eating too much and regaining weight again and again.

One more month this absurd situation of me fighting for my life not to overeat in front of my boyfriend while secretly stuffing myself with food. Apparently. On me, not exactly being tall, every extra pound showed. I avoided to look at my reflection in the mirror, but i could not avoid feeling how tight my clothes had gotten. Bras, shirts, pants i had to squeeze into all of them.

I felt like a dear on the road, staring into the lights of the approaching car incapable of moving. I knew the way i was eating would inevitably lead to being left for getting fat for the second time. And I knew that it would break me.

Not long and he would snap on me for letting myself go so much. And then he‘d be done being nice. I knew him…after more then 5 years. From his point of view he had been acting with empathy on this topic. He hadn‘t been insulting me directly, only had he given hints, and made clear that the bigger i got the less he felt attracted to me and the most generous after all was that he even gave me time to get back in shape, time to correct my mistakes. But i failed.