Why I'm purposely overeating to make myself fat.

Except for a brief time in college when I was too poor to eat properly, I've always been slightly chubby though definitely still "normal" weight and body size for my height (5'6").

That being said, even when I was a little kid...say six years old or so...I always knew I wanted to be fat. As in: a big bellied, thick limbed, round faced, rolling in fat kind of guy. I have no idea why.  Maybe it's hard wired into my brain or maybe something happened to me as a toddler.  I honestly have no idea where this lifelong overwhelming desire to be fat came from.  I just know deep in my heart and soul that it will be so incredibly satisfying to finally be as massively fat as I've always dreamed to being.  Don't get me wrong - I'm not ever planning to get so big that I can't do all the things that make life worth living.  And I already know that if this starts harming my overall health, that I'll have to lose the weight and always live with the fact that I won't be able to be as big as I truly want to be.  But I plan to cross that bridge when I come to it.  And, frankly, even in this were to come to pass, I'd really only be back right where I am now.  So, nothing ventured, nothing gained (no pun intended).

Anyway...

I didn't do much about fulfilling my desire to get fat for a long, long time.

Some brief experiments with overeating and some moderate weight gains here and there eventually ended up with me losing the weight and returning to "normal".  Fear of social stigma played a large part in this as well as basic insecurity and body issues.

About ten years ago I started on a slow and steady, very much yo-yo diet, in which I would gain fifteen or twenty pounds and then lose 10.  Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat...until I eventually got up to 200 or so pounds (where my weight is currently at).  I can still remember a time when I thought 200 pounds was HUGE...and I guess compared to the guy I was then, it is.  But as it stands right now, I feel like I'm just taking the first steps on a much larger (again, no pun intended) journey.

I'm at the point in my life where I'm at a stable job, in a stable relationship with a man who loves me and, although he's not an encourager, he supports me in my desire to get fat because he knows this is something that will make me happy. And that's enough for him to be okay with watching as his spouse slowly balloons into a fat guy (and yes, I DO know just how incredibly lucky I am to have found someone who is okay with this!).  I think I've also just hit the point in my life at which I really don't give a crap about what other people's issues are with a choice I'm making that solely impact my own body.  So far I haven't really had many comments other than a few jovial "hey, you're starting to get fat" (and in my head I'm all like "I know, isn't that GREAT?").  Who knows, maybe the external conversation will change as I start packing on a LOT of weight over what I really hope will be over a comparatively short period of time.  But I honestly think that at this point in my life, I'm grown up enough, I've dealt with enough challenges successfully, I'm solid enough in my own self esteem to deal with whatever crap might get hurled at me about this.

Because, folks, I've been doing a LOT of thinking about this lately.  Life's just too damned short not to do the things you want to do, to explore the fascinating places you've heard of, want to go to, but have not yet been to.  For literally my entire life I've wanted to be a fat guy but have always been too afraid to do what it takes to actually BE that guy, too afraid of what will happen if I actually achieve what I've been obsessing about this whole time.

I'm done with the practice runs, the temporary gains, and the constant worrying about what will happen.

Every time I've gotten heavier, every time my belly has grown noticeably larger, I've enjoyed how I looked and felt and ALWAYS wanted to just keep going, keep getting bigger, heavier, rounder.  ...but at the same time was so conflicted...worrying about my work reputation, what my friends would think, would my husband freak out now that my gains were starting to show for real?

Well, that's all behind me now.  I've "come out" to my husband about this. Every friend I've shared this information about me to has been fine with it.  My coworkers? Let 'em wonder.  Regardless, in every case it's been such a non-issue that I really wonder at this point what I've been so afraid of all these years.

I'm to the point now where there's no good reason why I can't begin fattening up in earnest.  I've recently started back on the high calorie diet that I know from past experience works and I'm already starting to see changes: my belly is a little bit bigger every day; the rest of me is filling out in delightful ways that are beyond any size I've previously managed to achieve.

*This* gain isn't going to stop until I'm finally as big for real on the outside as I feel on the inside. Exactly how big that will be is still somewhat of a mystery to me.  I'm playing it by ear.  All I really know is that in the end I'm going to need to be a LOT fatter than I am now before I can look in the mirror and know that I've finally become the fat guy that I've always wanted to be.    It's all green lights from here, people.

I hope you will join me on what will undoubtedly be an amazing journey.