My husband is convinced that fat is the "enemy".

So I totally get that there are health risks associated with being fat and, I do live a pretty sedentary lifestyle and eat a lot of freshly baked cookies. totally get it. However, I am fat, and I love myself. I love my curves and my belly and my hips. I am a size 24, and I'm not stupid, I know I'm fat. However, I like being fat. I love being fat, even. There is a comfort to being fat. I love rolling around in bed, feeling all my extra fat rolls and jiggling my belly fat, even when I'm alone. When I'm walking, I love to hold my belly and jiggle it. I love how comforting it is to be fat, and I love how I look. However, my husband hates it. I got married when I was super skinny (I had an eating disorder, it was bad). My husband was the one who helped me get better, and, in the process I gained a lot of weight. He was super supportive at first, but he was recently convinced that being fat is the enemy. Since then, he constantly comments on my weight and how fat I am. I love being fat, and I'm not going to change for him. I don't want to be skinny. I like being fat, and I like what I eat. <br><br>He constantly tries to get me to do anything that will help me lose weight, such as going to the gym, going swimming, or even just going for a walk. I don't like doing any of that, and I like my lifestyle the way it is. I don't even really care if I get fat, I love being fat, and, I don't care if I get even bigger. I want to be bigger, I want to be huge, enormous, I even wish I was a bed-bound woman, just for the joy of it. I know it is bad for my health, and I totally get that, but I just love being fat. It feels so nice, and so comforting. Even if I get huge, even if I can't do anything but wriggle in my bed, I wouldn't care, as long as I'm fat and happy, I'll be good. <br><br>I love being fat, and I hate skinny. I hate the thought of being skinny, I hate skinny people, I hate everything about being skinny. I love being fat, love, love, love. I totally get that there are health risks, and I even know that my lifestyle is pretty unhealthy. I drink a lot of soda and eat a lot of junk food and baked goods, and I totally get that it's bad for me. But it's so comforting, and it's so nice, I don't care. I totally get that there are health risks, and I know totally well that I'm killing myself with my eating habits, but, quite frankly, I don't care. I'd much rather eat a cake and die than be skinny and live. I like to-buy fast food and eat it in my car, I like to go to restaurants and eat till I can barely move, I love to eat, and I always want to eat, and drink soda pops. If I could, I would drink soda pop all day, and, honestly, I already kind of do. I love soda pop, and, I don't totally care if it's killing me. I know it's not good for me, but, I love soda pops. Just because my body is not what society calls "healthy" does not mean I should hate myself. I totally get that being fat is not "healthy" and I know it is not what society calls "beautiful" but, I don't care, I love myself, and that's all that matters. However, my husband refuses to let me live my life this way, and constantly comment on my weight, saying things like "You're going to die of a heart attack before you're 30", "You're fat, and ugly, and disgusting", "You're killing yourself", and "You're making me hate you". <br><br>I know he's trying to help me, I really do, but, I don't want to be helped. I don't need to be helped, I'm happy, and I like my life exactly how it is. I love being fat, I love eating freshly baked cookies, I love drinking soda, and, I totally know that it's bad for me. I don't need to be saved, I don't want to be saved, I don't need to be helped, I am perfectly happy with my life as it is, and I don't want to change it, even if it is killing me. And, quite frankly, I don't even care if it is killing me. I'd much rather die fat and happy than live skinny and miserable. I am happy with my life, and I love my fat, I don't totally care if it's killing me. <br><br>I know he's trying to help, but, quite frankly, he can fuck off. I don't need his help, I don't want his help, and, I don't even want him anymore. I would honestly much rather be fat, alone, and happy, than skinny, married, and miserable. I would honestly much rather die alone, fat, and happy, than live with him, skinny, and miserable. I would much rather die than live the way he wants me to, and I would much rather burn in hell than live a skinny life with him. I don't care if I die fat, and I don't care if live fat, all I care about is being happy, and, I'm only happy if I'm fat. I would much rather die happy and fat, than live unhappy and skinny. <br><br>I don't need his help, I don't want his help, and, quite frankly, I don't even want him. I am happy with me, I am happy with being fat, and quite frankly, even if it is killing me, I don't care. I know that I am hurting my health, and I know that, but, I don't care, I like being fat too much. And, I quite frankly don't totally care if my husband loves me or not. I love me, I love my fat, and I love my lifestyle. I love everything about myself, and I love everything about my life. I'd much rather die fat than live skinny, and I'd much rather live fat and alone, than live skinny and married. I am happy with my life, I am happy with my weight, and I am happy with myself. I am happy, and I don't need to be helped. <br><br>Quite frankly, if I am fat, then that is what I am supposed to be. I like being fat, and I love my life the way it is. I am fat, I am happy, and I don't care if my husband doesn't love me. I love me, and that's all that matters.