Tuesday, May 04, 2004
Why?
Why?
I know a few people wonder why I’d be happy with Ian gaining weight. There are two main reasons; number one, I’ve discovered that a soft, well rounded form has a majestic poetry all to itself. The second reason is the joy it brings him. I love Ian dearly, and so anything that makes him happy makes me happy. If Ian is happiest with a full tummy, then I’m happy ensuring his tummy is full. If Ian is happy eating the latest pasta concoction I’ve created, then I’ll keep creating new meals for him.
Like everything else, it boils down to my artistic tendencies: I like what I see, and I like to create. And like all artists, not everyone shares my aesthetics, not everyone shares my creative vision. I can understand that. If someone doesn’t like the idea of a 500 pound man, they’re welcome to that idea.
I’m also quite happy with Amy’s weight gain. I never set out to make her fat. She was already pudgy when I moved into London. Of course, I didn’t really hold back my cooking, even when she asked me to.
Of course, once Thomas liked the idea of Amy gaining weight, I was more than happy to become party to her weight gain. I love having an audience for my art, and that includes meals. When Jeri was gaining weight, I never thought of it as an artistic pursuit. Even when I was gaining weight, it was more decadent than artistic. But with Ian, I learned that his weight gain was like sculpting in flesh. Each pound he gained was a pound that I added, like another brushstroke to a painting.
With Amy, I’ve had a chance to relive that experience. I’ve seen her fill out, transitioning from overweight to chubby to fat to obese. Just seeing her wearing my old clothes gave me a thrill. Seeing how she has now adopted a waddle, it gives me a slight shiver. She’s changed forever, and I had a hand in it.
Of course, there is a bit of narcissistic pride to be found in Amy as well. She’s actually fatter than I am, in terms of BMI if not actual weight. I look at her, and see a fat woman, and realise that I’m not like that any more.
Of course, I still am fat, and will likely always be. But I’ve still got that 15 year old girl in the back of my head who has that need to be ‘better’ that someone. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that I’m better than Amy in any way. But I’d be dishonest to discount this vile little thought that is buried in my mind.
Ian says tonight may be Toronto’s last game of the year. I don’t know if Amy will keep coming over once the playoffs are done. I think she will, she still misses Thomas, so it gives her something to do. I don’t mind having an extra person to feed one bit!
I know a few people wonder why I’d be happy with Ian gaining weight. There are two main reasons; number one, I’ve discovered that a soft, well rounded form has a majestic poetry all to itself. The second reason is the joy it brings him. I love Ian dearly, and so anything that makes him happy makes me happy. If Ian is happiest with a full tummy, then I’m happy ensuring his tummy is full. If Ian is happy eating the latest pasta concoction I’ve created, then I’ll keep creating new meals for him.
Like everything else, it boils down to my artistic tendencies: I like what I see, and I like to create. And like all artists, not everyone shares my aesthetics, not everyone shares my creative vision. I can understand that. If someone doesn’t like the idea of a 500 pound man, they’re welcome to that idea.
I’m also quite happy with Amy’s weight gain. I never set out to make her fat. She was already pudgy when I moved into London. Of course, I didn’t really hold back my cooking, even when she asked me to.
Of course, once Thomas liked the idea of Amy gaining weight, I was more than happy to become party to her weight gain. I love having an audience for my art, and that includes meals. When Jeri was gaining weight, I never thought of it as an artistic pursuit. Even when I was gaining weight, it was more decadent than artistic. But with Ian, I learned that his weight gain was like sculpting in flesh. Each pound he gained was a pound that I added, like another brushstroke to a painting.
With Amy, I’ve had a chance to relive that experience. I’ve seen her fill out, transitioning from overweight to chubby to fat to obese. Just seeing her wearing my old clothes gave me a thrill. Seeing how she has now adopted a waddle, it gives me a slight shiver. She’s changed forever, and I had a hand in it.
Of course, there is a bit of narcissistic pride to be found in Amy as well. She’s actually fatter than I am, in terms of BMI if not actual weight. I look at her, and see a fat woman, and realise that I’m not like that any more.
Of course, I still am fat, and will likely always be. But I’ve still got that 15 year old girl in the back of my head who has that need to be ‘better’ that someone. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that I’m better than Amy in any way. But I’d be dishonest to discount this vile little thought that is buried in my mind.
Ian says tonight may be Toronto’s last game of the year. I don’t know if Amy will keep coming over once the playoffs are done. I think she will, she still misses Thomas, so it gives her something to do. I don’t mind having an extra person to feed one bit!
// posted by Charlotte @ 11:58:00 AM 
