I always tell my husband when he’s put on weight… and you should too!
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A few days ago, as my husband Cornel was dressing for work, I noticed a slight paunch where his flatter tummy used to be.
I didn’t look the other way or keep it to myself. Instead, I pulled his top up, patted the burgeoning mass and said: ‘Get yourself down the gym!’
It may sound like I’m being cruel. But I am of the belief that it’s a spouse’s duty to tell their partner when they’re gaining weight.
And in a world where increasing waistlines and obesity are driving the NHS to breaking point, I think it’s more important than ever.
Just last week, it was announced that the green man at pedestrian crossings will stay lit for longer to give overweight people extra time to cross the road. This comes as figures show that 26 per cent of UK adults are obese, with a further 40 per cent overweight.
UK-based journalist Julie Cook (pictured with her husband) says she is of the belief that it’s a spouse’s duty to tell their partner when they’re gaining weight
Even more shocking, the fire brigade in England is now called out once every four hours to help ambulance crews moving people with obesity.
And another fact for you: dieters claim one of the main reasons their diets fail is not greed or hunger, but their partner telling them they’re ‘fine as they are’. Your other half saying ‘but I love your curves’ is a surefire way to abandon your good intentions and divebomb the cake tin.
So with these figures in mind, forgive me if I’m a little blunt with my husband when it comes to weight gain. To my mind, it’s far better to be direct than to pander to overweight people. All that does is keep them entrenched on the path to ill health.
Sadly, though, there seems to be an unspoken rule in relationships that spouses do not tell their other half when they’ve gained a few pounds. Instead, we’re largely expected to ignore it altogether or, if we do acknowledge it, offer platitudes like: ‘You’re cuddly!’
I’ve lost count of the number of times my friends have told me that I’m ‘nasty’ for the way I speak to my husband about his weight. But I believe, if you truly love someone, you should be honest — as I’d expect my husband to be with me.
I met Cornel, now 42, in 2006. Then, he was thin as a rake and I was the slightly more ‘robust’ one, a curvy size 14 due to too many prosecco lunches in my job as an editor in London.
He was a good-looking man: tall and slim, with just the right amount of swagger. If I’m honest, I felt I was ‘punching above my weight’.
But over the years, things change. And while my weight has gone down since then, his has gone up.
Julie (pictured left with her husband) says: ‘And in a world where increasing waistlines and obesity are driving the NHS to breaking point, I think it’s more important than ever.’
He’s still a healthy weight for his height — he’s 5ft 11in and around 12st. But every so often, his sedentary lifestyle as a pianist catches up with him.
And when he does gain weight, it goes straight to his tummy — which is the point I’ll tell him to hit the treadmill.
I don’t use the ‘F’ word because he’s really not ‘fat’, he’s just bigger than he was, and I don’t police every morsel he eats (though I’ve been known to berate him when I’ve found McDonald’s wrappers in his car). But I do say ‘you’ve put weight on’ or ‘you’re holding weight on your tummy’.
Then, when he does work out more and loses a few pounds, I ditch the stick and grab the carrot. ‘You look fab!’ I’m often heard to cry. I think this is probably why he’s never complained or baulked at my harsh words. I feel sure that my honesty keeps him healthy and, thus, around longer to live out our lives together.
And I’ve no qualms about it. One friend told me I’m ‘awful’ for doing this, that you should never mention a partner’s weight. ‘I’d be mortified!’ she wailed.
But the truth is, if I don’t keep him in check, who will?
I may sound like a tyrant, but when I do point it out, Cornel ups his game and, within a couple of weeks, he is once again looking good — and even thanking me for pushing him.
I have some friends with overweight husbands. A few of them drop hints about it; others are too afraid to — or feel bad because they’ve gained weight themselves. Some express regret that the buff hunk they married has been replaced by a man who looks three months pregnant.
‘I don’t want my husband to have a heart attack or, God forbid, have a shorter lifespan because of carrying too much weight around his tummy,’ insisted Julie (pictured with her husband)
All of which makes me ever more certain that I’m doing the right thing. Because there’s more to being honest about weight than just keeping your husband well; such candour also keeps your love life alive.
It’s important to still fancy someone and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find Cornel more attractive and feel more in the mood for sex when he’s slimmer.
How many women, who have silently watched their husbands pile on the pounds over the years, could honestly say that it hasn’t affected their romantic lives?
Let’s be honest, ladies — if you had a choice between Leonardo DiCaprio in his prime, and his current, rather more ‘dad bod’ form, which would you go for?
The funny thing is, though, that despite my frankness over his physique, Cornel never points out my weight to me.
During both my pregnancies I put on around five stone, going up to 15st. I was enormous — and admit I ate too much during that time — but even then, when I could barely breathe walking up the stairs, he never said a word. When I lost the weight — going back to a size eight after my son, Alex, now 14, was born and a size 10 after our daughter, Adriana, nine — he didn’t comment on my changing shape either.
I was able to lose the weight because, when I want to, I have steely willpower; a salad every night, not eating after 7pm and swimming 50 lengths of the pool every morning.
And if Cornel had told me I was too fat, I wouldn’t have cried — I’d have upped my exercise regime and thanked him (although, admittedly, if you asked him how I’d react to such a comment, he’d view things differently. ‘You’d go ballistic,’ he tells me rather matter-of-factly.)
Which is why I don’t mince words when he puts weight on, and I urge you to do the same.
According to the British Heart Foundation, there are 7.6 million people living with heart and circulatory disease, which account for a quarter of all deaths in the UK.
Visceral fat — hidden fat and fat around the middle — is the worst kind. I don’t want my husband to have a heart attack or, God forbid, have a shorter lifespan because of carrying too much weight around his tummy.
You may agree with my friends that my good intentions make me cruel. But surely, the crueller action would be to not say anything. After all, you’d point out if your other half was dragging their leg, or had a nasty lingering cough. Why not point out when they are gaining weight, too?
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