How I Ate Nothing But Cake
(and almost doubled my weight)
When I first told my friends that I was going on an all-cake diet they were sceptical, to say the least. “Are you sure, Rhonda?” one asked, as we tucked into the lemon tart she’d just made. “Are you sure you don’t even want to throw some biscuits in there, for variety?” Well, I stuck to my guns, and boy am I glad I did!
I haven’t eaten anything but cake for a year - and I've never been happier. I can’t remember the last time I had this much energy, or filled out my clothes better. I bought some outfits in a size up to try and motivate myself to gain weight, but I never dreamed I’d fit in them so soon.
Everybody’s so impressed. My boyfriend says that there’s more of me to love, and he’s thrilled that I’ve gone up a cup size. It's changed our sex life too. We’ve moved away from BDSM, as now that I'm constantly pleasantly full I simply have no urge to hurt him anymore. If he wants to get whipped he’ll have to get to the cream can before I do!
The weight gain’s also changed me in more than superficial ways. I feel like everybody’s finally seeing the real me. I always wanted to be the funny, bubbly friend, but Deb's had the monopoly on that ever since she kept her pregnancy weight. It’s ridiculous really, because Deb’s not even that funny. I've urged her to go to Zumba for years, hoping she might lose enough weight for me to usurp her. But now that I’m five stone heavier, there’s simply no doubt that it’s my time to shine. Deb’s going to have to do more than switch to full-fat milk if she wants get her spot back!
The kids love it too. When it’s the end of school there’s always this hoard of skinny mothers waiting to collect their kids, and it can be frightening. Hugo and Tabitha almost went home with a stranger once, just because they couldn’t figure out which mother was theirs! But now they spot me coming from a mile off. Hugo’s dream is that one day I’ll get so big that he’ll be able to crawl under one of my fat rolls during hide and seek. I’ve warned him of the dangers of thinking too big, though. He’s only six, but I'd just hate for him to grow up with unrealistic expectations of women’s bodies.