After four years together: He trampled and humiliated me because of my weight!
My name is Anastasia Lawrence, and I live in the quaint town of Henley-on-Thames, where the river flows quietly through the old buildings of Oxfordshire. I never imagined my life would turn into such a nightmare. We’ve broken up. For four years and three months, I shared everything with him—laughter, tears, hopes. And now I’m alone, with my heart shattered into pieces. You might say, “So what? People break up every day.” Yes, that’s true, but I will never forgive him for this betrayal—it felt like a knife in my back, and he delivered it with a smile.
Everything was nearly perfect between us. Sure, we had our quarrels, but they never escalated into loud arguments. We lived harmoniously until fate decided to knock the wind out of me. Due to a personal tragedy, I began to gain weight. I wouldn’t say I ever looked like a cover model, but I had a neat and presentable figure. Then the pounds started piling on, and my boyfriend—now ex, Igor—turned into my tormentor. He started mocking and belittling me, as if I was worthless to him.
He didn’t hesitate to ridicule me in front of others. I remember once at a party with friends, tipsy, he loudly joked about my “flab,” pointing at my sides while everyone laughed. His drunk justifications didn’t erase the pain—I felt crushed and pathetic. In the final months, I drowned in tears more often than I basked in the sunlight. And he knew everything—knew the hell I was going through, every detail of my struggle. Yet he continued to trample me, as if I were garbage beneath his feet. Each of his jabs made my problems even heavier, even more unbearable.
One morning, I couldn’t take it anymore. My chest tightened with resentment, tears choked me, and I blurted out, “Just leave!” He didn’t even blink—as if he’d been expecting this moment. Silently, he packed his things, slammed the door, and vanished. After four years, he left me alone—to writhe in agony, to drown in my troubles. I was left with emptiness inside and unanswered questions. Maybe he had someone else? I noticed nothing obvious, no signs of cheating—no suspicious calls, no secret meetings. But perhaps he had found someone new—slimmer, prettier, not like me, burdened with extra weight and broken?
I’m not seeking advice, nor do I expect pity. I’m simply pouring out this pain that burns me inside like a hot iron. Igor crushed not only my love but also my self-worth. Every sarcastic look, every word about my weight is etched in my memory like scars. I won’t forget how he laughed at me in front of others, how he looked at me with disdain, as though I ceased to be a woman in his eyes. He knew I was fighting inner demons, but instead of supporting me, he stomped me deeper into the dirt. And left without looking back, leaving me in this hell.
Sometimes, I envision him with someone else—someone as light as air, with a slim waist and a bright laugh. Maybe he had been dreaming of such a person all along, while I grew heavier with stress and tears? This thought gnaws at me in the dark of night, but I don’t want to know the truth—it would only crush me further. For four years, I gave him everything—love, warmth, my soul—and he wiped his feet on me and walked into a new life. I’m left alone, with extra weight, with a load of grievances, feeling undeserving of even a drop of happiness.
But I will persevere. I know I can get through this. Through tears, through pain, I will find the strength to rise. Every day I look in the mirror and despise the reflection—not because of the weight, but because I allowed him to break me like this. He has left, and I remain to fight—with myself, with the past, with his voice in my head still whispering, “You are worthless.” I pray for only one thing: let this hell end soon. Let the wounds heal, let me feel alive again. I won’t forgive him, but I will survive his betrayal—for my own sake.
