Being called morbidly obese on a restaurant terrace: there is a lot of pain behind it

Maureen had a wonderful holiday with her best friend, and on the last day they planned to wrap things up with dinner at their favorite restaurant. But while eating dessert on the terrace, Maureen overhears a conversation between the people next to her. It immediately takes her back to a terrible period in her life.

‘The sun was already setting when my friend and I sat down at a little terrace café. It was the last day of my holiday in Tenerife, and we were celebrating the fact that we had been friends for twenty-five years. We met when we were both working as tour guides in the Canary Islands. I came from a small village in Groningen, while she was from cosmopolitan London. After a few months I went back home, while she stayed because she had fallen head over heels for the guy who worked at our favorite bar. Although we both led completely different lives, the friendship endured, and we saw each other every year on the island where we had so much fun.

Man gone

After the long period when I couldn’t come because of COVID, I was back in Tenerife, but by then I was also divorced, and I found that very difficult. After twenty-five years of marriage, I had discovered that my husband had been cheating on me for months. The children had just left home, and I had hoped that we would finally have more time for each other to do fun things, but at one point he told me he couldn’t imagine growing old with me. I begged him to stay with me; I was willing to do anything to make sure he wouldn’t leave. But it was no use. There was already someone else, and before I knew it, I had lost everything. My husband, my home and perhaps worst of all: my self-worth.

Ice cream and chocolate

When I came home from work to an empty house where I didn’t feel at home at all, there was only one thing that helped ease the agonizing feeling of loneliness. I numbed my pain with food. Lots and lots of food. After two years, I had gained kilos, my shield against the outside world. Because when I ate, I could no longer feel his words pounding against my soul. That he had grown tired of me, that he couldn’t imagine growing old with me: I kept hearing it in my head. Ice cream and chocolate became my comfort, and I couldn’t have cared less that I had to buy increasingly larger clothes.

With whipped cream

Until I started suffering more and more from my excess weight, and my GP strongly advised me to lose weight. The step from the sofa to the gym was enormous, but I had been going for a few months. Although I had already lost a few kilos, I was still a size 50 and therefore fat in other people’s eyes. I really was watching what I ate, but on that last evening of my holiday I thought I deserved to indulge a little. So when my friend suggested having a large bowl of ice cream with whipped cream after dinner, I didn’t hesitate for a moment. I hadn’t eaten that in months, and I enjoyed every bite.

Morbidly obese

But at one point I heard a mother at the table next to me tell her teenage daughter that ‘that fat woman’ wasn’t morbidly obese for nothing. ‘Because every pound goes through the mouth,’ she said mockingly. Apparently, she had heard me speaking English with my friend and wasn’t aware that I understood what she was saying. I immediately couldn’t swallow another bite and went white. My friend looked at me in alarm and asked what was wrong. I only said that I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to leave. Away from those horrible words, from being told that I wasn’t good enough, that I had no right to exist. I immediately felt so utterly rejected again, just as I had during the period when my husband wanted to leave me.

I’m back home now and haven’t been to the gym again. I’m spending evenings alone on the sofa, eating away my sadness and loneliness. Because of that one comment from that woman on the terrace, I’m right back where I started, and I have no idea whether I’ll ever feel better again.’

Maureen’s name has been changed for privacy reasons. Her real name is known to the editorial team. Would you also like to share a personal story (anonymously!)? You can email us at info@favorflav.com

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Source: Franska