Never Date A Guy Who Would Call You Fat

Did he hate me because he started seeing all those jiggly thighs and cellulite whenever I went out wearing shorts and dresses? Was I not good enough because he saw all the back fat and flabs whenever he started pulling my shirt up?

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Never Date A Guy That Calls You Fat

Some few instances in my life, I’ve come across a number of personalities — nerds, smart-ass guys, douches, and a combination of ‘em. And although I’ve become fond with most of them (or maybe ALL of them because you never have a choice when you’re in high school/when your hormones get the best of you), I would say that I’ve learned my lesson the hard way. It’s pretty ugly and unnerving, to say the least. So, hear me out when I say this — never date a guy who would call you fat.

Never date a guy who would make you feel small about yourself — career-wise, self-esteem-wise, financially or whatever aspect in your life, well, you have an opinion. And it’s non-negotiable, because a lot of things become at stake when your ego and self-concept gets crushed to bits.
Like what I said earlier, I learned all of these things the hard way.

I used to date this guy who made me feel that he didn’t care about the preliminaries — he made me feel comfortable about my body, my personality, my choices and most importantly, my opinions about looks and physical appearances. I’m sort of on the heavier side of the scale — although I’m not obese, I sure am heavier than most girls out there. So, yeah, there were sparks flying, and I sort of felt victorious because I had a huge crush on him ever since the first year of high school. What a great way to cap-off our senior year.

And then, the years became our worst enemy. Since we went on to different universities, I think the distance sealed the deal and made us the worst versions of ourselves whenever we were together. The fights became a usual occurrence, and then we got a bit more physical and intimate (which is normal). During those times, he started egging me to lose weight. He started calling me fat to the point where I felt mortified whenever I saw my own reflection. I was surprised since he told me before that he liked me the way I was and it was all so sudden.

Did he hate me because he started seeing all those jiggly thighs and cellulite whenever I went out wearing shorts and dresses? Was I not good enough because he saw all the back fat and flabs whenever he started pulling my shirt up? I was so full of questions. He wasn’t like that the first few months we were together, and now, he’s making me feel like a specimen on a Petri dish, magnifying my flaws a hundred times over.

He made me feel that he only wanted me because of the physical aspects and intimacy I could give him. It was THAT bad.

Of course, it was heartbreaking. And in the middle of our supposed-to be second year together, I decided to try to pull the plug and break it up with him. After just a few days, he went out with someone else, only to leave him hanging and coming back to me. As usual, I was there to scoop him up like a an abandoned puppy and wait on him. I was there, but my role in his life became fuzzy and weird. It was more of a FWB thing, and of course I wanted it that time. It was such a hard blow on my ego, it was a total downscale. And I wanted it, because it was the only chance to be with him. It was so weird.

Then, after a few months, I decided to just stop and quit the habit via cold turkey — I just left. And it never felt so liberating. It had been more than a year since we last talked, until two days ago (since this time of writing), where we went out as friends. He texted me first and asked me out since he “missed me” (quote, unquote). It didn’t amount to much, but I was sure that the warm, fuzzy feeling I was expecting wasn’t there anymore. Of course, I had that urge to kiss him (maybe out of habit), but it was all under control. It could have been worse.

Now, he hasn’t called or texted since that day. I guess he wanted things I couldn’t give (I’m just assuming this…or maybe he thinks I’m a boring companion. Or well, he has his reasons), because I’m too sick and tired of the bullshit I’ve experienced over those two years. Of course, the good memories remain, but when someone you care about makes you feel bad about yourself, you have to know when to stop putting-up with their shit.

(As of press time, we remain friends. I’m assuming this since I’m a peace-loving individual.)
That is why I’m saying this now — never date a guy who would call you fat. Never date someone who would crush your self-esteem until you become the worst version of yourself. Never allow anything like that to happen to you.

Now, don’t get me wrong — I don’t blame him at all for everything that has ever happened to the both of us. I’ve had my own shortcomings and he stayed ‘til the very end. He was patient with me, until it all became so broken and irreparable. It was dysfunctional, it was mad. He was my first love, so I had it bad.

I hope that you would find someone who would fully accept all your flaws, imperfections, and weaknesses. Of course, I haven’t found him/her just yet — I still have a lot of things to settle, so many places to visit, and a lot of stories to read. Then again, if you think you’ve found the guy who isn’t perfect at all, but who would stay with you in spite of your brokenness, then keep him. You would know. Thought Catalog Logo Mark