When I first met my husband, I weighed about 115 pounds. Now, for some women, that might sound fine and dandy. On my 5’7″ frame, it was, quite frankly, not enough.
That weight of mine dipped down to 102 before I officially sought help and dug my way out. In those early days of dating, my guy never criticized my tiny size. He also never told me how amazing I looked. That basically meant he was in a category all his own since every other person seemed to fall into one of those groups.
He was infinitely patient with me and unendingly supportive. He would sit for HOURS in the college cafeteria with me while I picked my way through half a turkey sandwich.
He loved me at 102.
Eight years later, I was home (finally!) from the NICU with our second child. I had a four-month-old and a fourteen-month-old. I was eating erratically and not exercising… well, ever, really. Added to that, I was on anti-depressants and, in my case, that whole “weight gain” side effect was a very real thing.
My weight climbed up to 162.
Now, realistically, 5’7″ and 162 pounds isn’t anything super alarming. It WAS slightly over my “ideal BMI” range, which tops out at 159. And I was not a bit happy at that weight. But I do realize that those are not the sort of stats that make people gasp in shock.
Still– my non-pregnant weight fluctuated by SIXTY pounds over that time frame.
My husband never criticized me. He never remarked on it. He continued to honor and compliment and desire my body.
He loved me at 162.
It makes me cry to realize the acceptance he is willing to show me. I’m not sure how I even deserve that kind of compassion and desire. I don’t think I’ve been as good at it as he has.
Acceptance and adoration, with a sixty-pound margin. I definitely count that as a way to show love.
Have you or your spouse changed in any dramatic way over the course of your relationship? Has acceptance and support played a role in your marriage? Tell me about it!