After Four Years Together: He Trampled and Shamed Me for My Weight!
My name is Emma Green, and I live in a little town called Stratford-upon-Avon, where the river flows quietly past historic buildings in Warwickshire. I never imagined my life would turn into such a nightmare. We’ve parted ways. For four years and three months, I shared everything with him—laughter, tears, hopes. And now I’m on my own, with a heart shattered to pieces. You might say, “So what? People break up every day.” Yes, that’s true, but I can’t forgive him for this betrayal—it’s like a knife in the back, thrust with a smile.
Everything seemed almost perfect between us. Sure, arguments happened, but they never escalated into loud fights. We were so close until fate struck me a harsh blow. Due to a personal crisis, I began to gain weight. I wouldn’t say I was ever a cover model, but my figure was neat, well-proportioned. Then the pounds began to pile on, and my boyfriend—now ex, James—turned into my tormentor. He started mocking me, belittling me, as if I had become worthless in his eyes.
He didn’t hesitate to ridicule me in front of others. I remember at a party with friends, after a few drinks, he loudly joked about my “flab,” poking my sides, while the group laughed along. His drunken excuses didn’t wash away the pain—I felt crushed, pitiful. In those final months, I was drowning in tears more often than I was enjoying the sunshine. He knew everything—he knew the hell I was going through, every detail of my struggle. Yet, he continued to trample on me, as if I was trash beneath his feet. Each cutting remark made my issues heavier, more unbearable.
One morning, I snapped. My chest felt tight with resentment, tears choked me, and I blurted out, “Get out!” He didn’t even flinch—almost like he was expecting it. He silently gathered his things, slammed the door, and vanished. After four years, he left me alone—wallowing in agony, drowning in my troubles. I was left with emptiness in my heart and questions with no answers. Could there be someone else? I noticed nothing obvious, no signs of infidelity—no calls, no secret meetings. But perhaps he already found someone new—slimmer, prettier, unlike me who had grown heavier and broken?
I’m not seeking advice or pity. I’m merely unleashing this pain that burns inside me like molten iron. James didn’t just trample on my love, but on my self-worth too. Every harsh glance, 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 if I ceased to be a woman in his eyes. He knew I was fighting inner demons, but instead of support, he pushed me further into the dirt. And he left, without looking back, leaving me in this hell.
Sometimes I imagine him with another—someone as light as air, with a slender waist and a lively laugh. Perhaps he longed for such a person while I was gaining weight from stress and tears. This thought gnaws at me during the night, but I don’t want to know the truth—it would crush me even more. For four years, I gave him everything—love, warmth, my soul—and he walked all over me and left for a new life. I’m left alone, with extra weight, with a load of grievances, feeling like I’m not worthy of even a drop of happiness.
But I’ll stand firm. I know I can get through this. Through tears, through pain, I will find the strength within myself to rise. Every day I look in the mirror and despise the reflection—not because of the weight, but because I let him break me like this. He left, but I’m still here to fight—with myself, with the past, with his voice in my head that still whispers: “You’re worth nothing.” I only pray for one thing: let this hell end soon. Let the wounds heal and let me feel alive again. I might never forgive him, but I will survive his betrayal—for myself.
