How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Her Fat.

Recently on a discussion board, the topic of Fat Admirers who married thin women struck a chord. Some said they married thin women before they realized they were FAs, or some knew they were FAs but bowed to peer pressure. Pressure can be hard, and my family was definitely anti-fat. My father was a health fanatic with serious control issues, who nagged my mother about her weight although she was fairly thin. He saw things only one way, with no shades of gray, and his rigid beliefs became more important than the family. He constantly harped on how big my mother's rear supposedly was, with sarcastic endearments such as "Bubble Butt", and sadly my mother believed him. My father pressured me to date beauty queens in high school in the early 1970s, but by then I saw through his bluster and ignored it as best I could. My method was (and is) to quietly pursue my goals and thereby circumvent obstacles with minimal confrontation. The more my father pestered me to date his vision of ideal girls, the more I determined to date whomever I damned
well pleased.

In high school the girl for me was Debbie: pretty, intelligent, and witty, and her personality and attitude captivated me. Debbie was a friend who became my soul mate. She was a girl with brains and charm, and it made no difference to me that she carried over 250 pounds on her 5-foot-7 frame. My parents objected to her size, but their objections backfired. My dating a fat girl became a symbol of my independence. Finally my father outdid himself when he phoned Debbie's mother to declare that no son of his would date such a girl, and ordered her to keep her daughter away from me! I had no idea why Debbie suddenly began to avoid me. Later I learned the truth, and told my father that if he ever went behind my back like that again, I would break both his arms. He could have easily beaten me senseless. Instead, he was flabbergasted that I had stood up to him, and backed off! Sometimes confrontations are necessary.

Unfortunately my father's bombshell effectively severed diplomatic relations between our two families. Fortunately Debbie and I rekindled our romance in college, and a few years later we married, when she weighed almost 300 pounds. Unfortunately my father refused to attend our wedding, and now we speak to each other only rarely. Fortunately Debbie and I knew we were in love, and 2 decades later we are still happily married. Thank goodness we heeded our own heads and hearts rather than those around us. My parents have never accepted Debbie, but her parents accepted me so well that I essentially traded my family for hers. I love him as a father, but he has made some very poor choices in his life. Maybe my father's narrow-mindedness helped me become far more open-minded.

In retrospect, either I was a Fat Admirer and didn't know it (not likely), or Debbie was so terrific that fat women became my ideal (very likely). On our first date she apologized for her weight, and I joked that fat women were better to hug. She was relieved that her fat was not a liability, but it took her a while to believe that I could find her fat figure truly attractive. We are now in our early 40s, and Debbie's weight has gradually climbed whereas I have remained thin. I have not encouraged her to gain weight, but of course I have not objected. Last year she stepped on a scale and was surprised to read 405 pounds. That much fat thrills me, but I must also remember her well-being, and she was a bit upset to have crossed that 400-pound mark. Her gradual weight gains have slowed her somewhat, she tires more easily and her back, legs and feet can become sore. On the other hand, these are excellent excuses to give her more massages.

Much as I enjoy her fat, if she chose to lose weight then I would support her decision, because I love her for herself. She has said that she would rather not be so heavy because it can be quite a burden at times, and it can be a challenge to maneuver her girth in some situations. She has also noticed that her fat now has considerable momentum when she turns or moves. But as long as I help her accommodate her fat, and her health continues to be good, then she is content. To be honest, it seems a guilty pleasure to enjoy her fat, because the burdens of obesity rest on her. Nonetheless I melt whenever her enormous butt wiggles, or her huge hanging belly jiggles, or her gigantic breasts bounce. In summer shorts and sleeveless tops, I relish her extra fat curvy legs and arms. Her soft enveloping warm romantic hugs are pure heaven. When she hops up and down to squeeze her massive bulk into tight slacks, or shakes all over in a good hearty laugh, I almost pass out! Married 20 years, and her magic only increases.

Debbie blushes when I call her my "trophy wife", but it means that I am proud to be with her. Our positive attitudes seem to neutralize any potential anti-fat discrimination. We dine out with my boss at least twice a year, and she is definitely an asset at my company social functions. She and I dine out regularly, love to travel, and enjoy each other's company. We don't attend as many concerts or movies as we would like, because Debbie is too fat for most seats. On the other hand, some people have recommended cruises as a fat-friendly way to travel. Absolutely right.

Now I understand how I developed such a strong preference for fat women, especially my supersize wife. This has helped me make life better for my wife and her sexy fat. Most of all, it made me realize that the true secret to a long happy marriage was simply to marry my best friend.

Steve Schubert