June 22, 2015
No Greater Gift
By Jan Bono
We're all grownups here, right? Because this post by Jan Bono, author of “Back from Obesity: My 252-pound Weight-Loss Journey” concerns adult subject matter. But I have every confidence that mature and worldly Cranky Fitness readers can handle it!
As for the contentious crustacean, she will be back soon, hopefully early next week. She is very much looking forward to finding out how everyone is doing!--Crabby
Although I consider myself a “healthy weight” today, I spent more than a decade weighing above 370 pounds. Back then, it had been literally years since I’d felt like any kind of sexual being, and I considered that perhaps I had “outgrown” the wanting to feel sexy and desirable.
Perhaps all that extra estrogen lurking in the fat tissues had taken away my libido. Truth be told, it had been about a decade since I’d gotten naked and horizontal with anyone. I wasn’t just hormonally challenged—I was hormonally comatose.
Nevertheless, in June when I wrote my “birthday resolutions,” I haphazardly penned “have sex” on the bottom of the list. Not “fall in love,” mind you, but simply “have sex.”
Just three days after putting it “out there” on my wish list, I got a call from a very good longtime friend who told me he was in town for a short visit and wondered if we could get together to catch up on old times.
Well, in the old times, we had never been intimate, and in the old times, we had never shared more than a hug and a quick kiss hello or goodbye. And besides, I was 272 pounds for crying out loud, and a long ways from applying for the role of fem fatale, so I was extremely confident there was no way we’d be “going there” now.
But the universal Divine Mind often has other ideas.
After a few minutes of polite conversation, my longtime platonic friend put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me tight against him. His kiss was much more than a friendly greeting, and I felt myself swoon. To my knowledge, I had never actually swooned before, but to my credit, I instantly knew what was happening.
Hand in hand, we walked down the hall to my bedroom, and he insisted on undressing me himself, right then and there, in full daylight and with no place for me to hide. I flushed scarlet and tried to protest, but he shook his head and told me to hush.
We spent the entire afternoon enjoying the full pleasure of each other’s company. For the first time in too many years to count, I felt treasured, cherished, appreciated, and very sexually aroused. My libido, I discovered, was still very much alive and well.
As the afternoon wound to a close, I modestly reached down to pull the sheet up over me. My friend gently stopped my hand and asked if I were cold.
“No…” I replied. “I— I just want to pull the sheet up.”
“Why?” he challenged.
“You know why,” I answered. The lump in my throat felt like a brick. I turned my head away.
“Oh, honey.” He pulled me tightly into his arms again, but I still couldn’t meet his eyes.
He lightly kissed my forehead, then my nose, then a quick kiss on the lips. “Your body is just fine,” he said. “You don’t need to hide it from me or anyone else. You’re a very sexy woman no matter what your size. Don’t you understand that?”
I started to cry.
“What’s all this?” he asked, taking my face in his hands and wiping his thumbs softly across my cheeks to brush away the tears.
I tried to put my feelings into words, but everything I opened my mouth to say seemed extremely inadequate. Finally I managed to whisper, “Thank you.”
To this day, I’d never received a better birthday present than the warm glow that accompanies unconditional size acceptance.