I’m a few months postpartum and barely holding it together. Pregnancy and newborn life were brutal, but my daughter Emma is perfect.
Instead of supporting me, my husband Jake became obsessed with my body. It started with comments about food and salt, then escalated to grabbing my stomach, comparing me to his friends’ wives, and telling me he was embarrassed to be seen with me.
A few weeks after birth, he brought home a bag of cucumbers and told me they and water should be my diet—despite the fact that I was breastfeeding and constantly starving. Exhausted and broken down, I gave in. I barely ate, felt dizzy and miserable, and obsessed over food while trying to make him happy.
The breaking point came at his mom Linda’s birthday dinner. I barely ate, skipped the bread and potatoes, and when cake was served, I finally asked for a slice. Jake loudly stopped me in front of everyone, saying I didn’t need it and shouldn’t “undo my progress.”
The room went silent—until Linda stood up. Calm but furious, she called Jake out, told him my body and food were not his to control, and warned him he wouldn’t be welcome in her home if he ever treated me that way again. Then she put a huge slice of cake on my plate and told me to eat.
After that, Linda stepped in. She checked on me, brought food, and made Jake cook real meals. The comments stopped. He never shamed my body again.
Months later, Jake apologized and started therapy. We’re now in couples counseling. I’m learning to eat without guilt, and he’s learning that my body is not his to control.
And every time I eat cake now, I take an extra bite for Linda.