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Sex Love and Obesity Part 12

Previously on Sex Love and Obesity – Part 11 we left of with me falling in love with Peter. Love happens when you least expect it, it’s not something you decide to feel, it’s just suddenly there and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about.

I lied to everyone around me. I didn’t tell my closest friends that we had slept together. I didn’t admit that I was in love. At the time I thought I was doing it because I was ashamed.  I still hadn’t filed for a divorce. It was complicated, the financial ties made it nearly impossible. I was still living with Clark (Superman) and not telling him the truth about how I felt or how things had changed.

I realize now that I was lying because I was looking for validation. I was sharing only the pieces I wanted people to know because I wanted them to help me convince myself that loving Peter was a good idea. I wanted them to help me make myself feel safe in giving my heart away.

I got back on a plane two weeks later and went to see Peter for Christmas.

That trip was as wonderous as the last one had been. It was magical. The grandiose gestures of romance continued to impress me. The yellow roses were there waiting for me again.

A few weeks earlier we had a conversation while I was cooking, we had discovered with both hated cilantro. “I hate Cilantro too Pandora, will you marry me? We’re perfect for each other,” he, I realized later only half way joked. I had countered with, “Before I ever considering marrying anyone else they are going to have to give me a list of 100 reasons why I should.”

On this trip I was gifted with a beautifully hand-written journal of 100 reasons why we should be together. It was these sorts of thoughtful, above the top gestures of love that kept winning my heart. Nobody had ever tried so hard to get my attention and affection. I had never been courted like this.

The more we together the more certain I was that he was Prince Charming and that “happily ever after” wasn’t some mystical unattainable fairy tale ending.

When I left Peter that second time, I was convinced that I would be moving there.

Two weeks later we were at Disneyworld for a magical 12-day Disney Vacation. I had 6 days at Disney planned while I did the Dopey Challenge, he had an Anniversary/Birthday trip with his soon to be ex-wife that hadn’t taken place that he decided to add-on to my stay so that he could come cheer me on as I took on my first marathon. “You’re always supporting others for their first big finish line, someone needs to be there for yours,” that’s what he told me when he suggested that we combine our trips.

You can’t spend 12 days in the most magical place on earth with a new-found love a NOT feel like a princess. That trip was amazing. Again, everything was perfect. He stood at my finish lines with race signs that made other ladies stop at take pictures. “On a scale of 1-10 my Princess is a 13.1.” He tapped my ankles, he gave me an ice bath to help my muscles recover from running 48.6 miles in 4 days.

By the time it was over, I was 100% convinced I was going to move to Massachusetts to be with him. In fact, we planned another trip so that I could start looking for a job. I was so smitten, so in love, so lost in all the romantic gestures. I really wasn’t paying attention or looking for any early warning signs that things might not be as perfect as I thought they were. You know what they say, love makes you look at things with rose-colored glasses.

We had our first fight right before that Disney trip.

It was an argument about money. He was annoyed that I complained about finances so much. In fairness, so far, he had paid for nearly everything we had done together. I struggled to save money for the things I really wanted but prioritized them. He didn’t agree with my priorities. He questioned whether I really needed another $75.00 running skirt or another $25.00 tank top to match it. I questioned why what I did with the money I had set aside as spending money was any of his business.

The argument had started because I had complained that I had to pay more than I had expected toward the household grocery budget when Clark was a little short that month. It meant I would have less spending money than I had wanted for the trip. It got a little ugly when Peter started to tell me how I needed to tell Clark how to budget and spend his money and I dug my heels in the sand and said that what Clark did with his money was no more my business than what I did with my money was Peter’s business. None of us were married, none of us were in relationships where our finances were combined.

We’d gotten through the argument unscathed.

Couples have arguments; it’s natural. We worked it out. I had chalked it up to a new relationship and learning how each other view things, what the expectations are. My expectations were that until we moved past “dating” and “living together” and got to the point that he was changing my last name, my finances were just that, my finances. If I could pay my part of the bills, hold up to any financial agreements we made together, what I did with my money was my business. His expectations were different. I’m not him, so I can’t say for sure what his expectations were, but to me it felt like from the moment we decided to start dating I was suddenly expected to combine our incomes into one big pool.

When I got back from Disney I found out that things at work were going to be changing. My hours were going to be getting cut in half. It made the prospect of relocating to Massachusetts even more appealing.

We started bickering more often. I couldn’t really tell you about what. Little tiny arguments here and there. I blamed most of it on the distance between us and an unspoken insecurity I felt existed but would get better when we were together on a regular basis.

It was enough that when I went to Massachusetts to look for jobs and realized that I wasn’t really at a place in my career where I could get the sort of job I really wanted, it made the thought of leaving a place where I was a big fish in a little pond instead of a little fish in a big pond much less attractive. The tiny little arguments gave me a reason to pause, to dig my heels in the sand and reconsider the leap of faith I was about to take.

Of course, when I was in Massachusetts, when I was with Peter, all the magic was there. I didn’t want to give that up. I was convinced we were in love. I really had no doubt about that. But, I thought we were moving too fast. Making big life decisions that I wasn’t 100% sure we should be making. I wanted to press pause, wait a year, see how life played out and make sure we were making the right choices for the right reasons.

Peter refused to do that. He didn’t want to wait. He most definitely didn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship. Even more he didn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship with someone who was living with one man, married to another, trying to tie up the loose ends of her life. I was nowhere near ready for a big commitment, but he was pretty much demanding all or nothing and choosing nothing and risking losing that magic chemistry we had when we were in bed together wasn’t an option I was willing to consider. Because in case I didn’t make this clear before, the sex was amazing.

Instead of me moving to Massachusetts he decided to move to North Carolina. I asked Clark to move out when our lease was up at the end of May and Peter and I started planning happily ever after.

Only happily ever after didn’t end up being happy at all.

Stay tuned for Sex Love and Obesity Part 13 – Happily Ever After Took A Nose Dive.DSSPostSig

Pandora Williams author of Desperately Seeking Slender is an ISSA Certified Personal Trainer and Cooper Institute Approved Wellness Coach Trained in Weight Management Strategies. Her training and coaching services are offered exclusively through GoGirl Fitness Studio.

Sex Love and Obesity Part 11

In Sex Love and Obesity Part 10, I introduced you to Peter, a man who was about to change my entire world. He was about to teach me one of the biggest lessons I have learned when it comes to relationships after weight loss.

Attention seeking can lead you down a dark rabbit hole.

October turned into November. Remember, I told you that November tends to be a defining month in my life when it comes to relationships. A lot can happen in a short time. In the next month Peter had moved out of his house and was moving forward with his divorce. Even though I clearly had him in the friend zone, he convinced me that I should come for a visit.

Prior to the visit we discussed some of my trepidation about getting involved in a relationship with someone else in the weight loss community. I had body image issues after weight loss. I still had body image issues after weight loss. I had struggled with the excess skin issues. I was honest about all of this. I wasn’t quite sure if those issues applied only to my body or if they would also apply to someone else’s body if I tried to have a relationship with someone who was earlier in their journey than I was. I didn’t want to be that jerk who had an issue with someone else’s body or made someone else feel uncomfortable in their own skin. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.

I’ve learned now, that not wanting to hurt someone while generally a noble personality trait, is one of my biggest weaknesses. It’s one of the primary reasons I have a hard time with closure, with being honest about my feelings or lack thereof. It’s one of the primary reasons I stay in relationships that I am unhappy in for far too long.

I went to for a visit the second week of December.

I won’t say it wasn’t amazing. It was amazing. Absolutely amazing. From the moment I arrived, the grandiose romantic gestures impressed me.  He paid attention to things I liked, to things I said, and he fawned over me. There was never a moment when I didn’t know that he thought I was the most beautiful woman he had ever met and that he wanted me. There were yellow roses greeting me when I got to his house. My favorite drinks where in the refrigerator. There were little presents for me that showed how much he had paid attention.

We went for a run. He cooked Mickey Mouse shaped protein pancakes for me. He treated me like a princess. He played music I loved rather than every other guy in my life that had always forced me to listen to the music he liked when we were together. I felt special, I felt wanted, and before I knew it, slightly intoxicated on his couch, I kissed him.

That kiss lead to the most amazing sex I have ever had in my life. That is no lie. If I wrote a book about it that incident, in words would turn into a sexual encounter that made women swoon. The sex was amazing. It was unselfish, both of us doing everything we could to try to please the other. More than it was physical, it was an emotional. I’d never experienced anything like it in my life. I didn’t know where he ended and where I began. For hours and hours and hours, and I am not exaggerating the experience lasted six or seven hours I felt more connected to any human being that I ever had in my life.

The next morning, when I woke up to the smell of turkey bacon and pancakes, I reminded him that nothing had changed. That we we’re not dating, that we were not in some serious relationship.

The next night was the same. The sex was passionate. I didn’t feel like we were two people going through the motions. I didn’t feel like he was there because I wanted him to be. I knew he wanted to be there in that moment with me. For the first time in my life I felt like someone had made love to me instead of just having sex with me. That feeling brought me to tears. I’d literally cried as we shared this experience. In those moments, where I felt cherished, made love to, where I felt like the only woman in the world that existed to him, where this chemistry manifested between us and I felt connected on a level I had never experienced before, I felt healed inside.

I felt like every broken and damaged piece of me was being put back together. I felt whole.

We stayed up the entire night before he had to drive me to the airport. Wrapped up in each other’s arms tangled in the sheets, trying not to miss a single moment of bliss. I cried because I had to leave. Because I had to go home and face all the demons, dangling relationship strings and hurt that was waiting for me there.

Everything about Peter impressed me.

He had a steady job, his own place, he bought me nice little gifts, paid for dinner when he took me out. When it came to a new relationship, I wanted someone who was financially secure. I was tired of always struggling financially with someone. I was tired of being the bread-winner in the relationship. I was tired of working my ass off so that everyone I was involved with could survive and tread water with me.

He was a gentleman. He opened doors for me to walk through, opened the car door for me to get in and closed it behind me. He held my hand while he was driving.

He understood that I was a Daddy’s girl. He knew not only how much I missed my father but how much I respected him. How I sought a man with old fashion, traditional cowboy values and he vocalized how he wanted to be a man my father would like, someone my father would be happy to see me end up with.

The airport good-bye on that trip was something I’ll never forget.

To this day I will say, that what happened on the airport curb at the end of that trip was something right out of a romantic drama. It was without any shadow of a doubt the moment I feel in love with him.

We both struggled on the ride to the airport. I was surprised at how emotional he was. Tears streamed down his face as he told me that he wasn’t ready for me to leave yet.

When we got to the curb, he took my luggage out of the car. I stood there, with all my emotional walls built on up, trying to make sure that I didn’t give him any signs that I cared and that I was considering anything more than a friendship. The words that came out of his mouth took my breath away.

“Pandora, I’ve always been that guy that has never really tried to go after what I wanted. Never felt worthy of it and never really chased it. But I’m not going to do that with you. If you and I don’t end up together it is going to be because you decided that it wasn’t going to happen, not because I didn’t do everything I possibly could to make it happen.”

My heart dropped, I couldn’t breathe, I swallowed the lump in my throat and I knew that I needed to walk away before I let my guard down, showed him I cared and gave him the power to hurt me that comes with letting someone know you care that much about them. I managed to mutter up the words “I’ve got to go,” and tried to grab my bags and walk away. He grabbed me, stopped me and kissed me.

I was too emotional to remember anything he said after that. My world was spinning. He had me. Right then and there, he had me. Everything he had done for the last six weeks had paid off. I walked away before he got a chance to see me break down and cry. I cried most of the airplane trip home, listening to songs on repeat that reminded me of him like a teenage girl in love.

I was terrified. I knew two things for certain in this moment. One that I was hopelessly in love with him and two, that no matter what happened next, it was either going to end with the “happily ever after” that I was dreaming of, or it was going to end in tragedy.

The ironic thing is I thought the issue would be that I was broken and damaged and incapable of love. I thought the tragedy would be that I would break his heart.

Stay tuned for Sex Love and Obesity Part 12 – Chasing Happily Ever AfterDSSPostSig

Pandora Williams author of Desperately Seeking Slender is an ISSA Certified Personal Trainer and Cooper Institute Approved Wellness Coach Trained in Weight Management Strategies. Her training and coaching services are offered exclusively through GoGirl Fitness Studio.
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Author: Pandora Williams

Author of Desperately Seeking Slender

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