Today began the slaughtering of my last 48 pounds.  I have been a lazy, lazy sloth the past month.  Eating processed garbage instead of eating clean.  Skipping the gym and sleeping too late.  Drinking coffee to kill the hunger pangs and sometimes eating nothing at all for breakfast.

I mean seriously. 

Sure I weigh less than I did 2 months ago, but I’m not in as good of shape.  I was lamenting these things to My Friend last week, and being the ex-army brat that he is, he simply said:

“Boot camp.”

If he was trying to strike immediate fear into my heart, it worked.

I asked him if he would consider joining my gym and keeping me accountable to working out regularly.  I knew it would be difficult for me to put myself in such a vulnerable situation, but he’s the best person to do it.  He knows me, I trust him, and he’s been wanting to get back into shape, so it’s win win all around.

I was simply looking for a workout partner.

He one upped me.

He offered to be my personal trainer.

Today was our first “meeting.”  He showed up at my house, and I immediately asked what we’d be getting into today at the gym.  He simply said, “We aren’t going to the gym.”

He drug me out into my backyard and kicked my butt.

Army style.

2 hours of stretches.  Calesthenics.  (or however you spell that)  Ab work.  Cardio.  It was even harder than working out with Hot Isaac.

I hate jumping jacks.  And I mean hate them with a passion.  So what does My Friend ask me to do?  25 jumping jacks….in slow motion.

I was not happy.  I faced him and did all 25 of those jacks, boobalopes flying everywhere, and I realized……

I have lost my damn mind.

Immediately following, we did this shoulder strengthening routine that turned my arms into jello.  I couldn’t keep my arms up.  But he insisted that I do so.  He came over and got right in my face.

I immediately started breathing faster.  He had his hands on me.  I couldn’t look him in the face, it was terrifying.  I just stared at the ground. 

Neither one of us said anything about it.

Until later.

We were in the car, and I asked if he noticed that when he was right in my face that I wouldn’t make eye contact with him.

He just smiled.  So I knew he had noticed.

It is more and more clear to me every single day how I have used fat as a shield to keep men away from me.  And now that there is not all that fat shielding me, this is why I adopt the Tae-Bo position if a man I don’t know gets too close.

But what happens when it’s a man I do know?  And who knows me?  And one that I trust?

It’s too much. 

I can’t make eye contact. 

I feel myself on the verge of tears. 

I start sweating.

And slowly, but surely, I crumble inside.

I can sit here all day and lie to you and myself by saying it’s because I’ve never truly been in love.  Or that I’m scared to be known.  Or scared to trust.

But the naked ugly truth is that my virginity was taken from me when I was 28 years old.  And not by choice.

I was raped.

And within 22 months I had packed on 120 pounds.

I have not talked about this until recently.  I met Kim, who is a fellow blogger with struggles very similar to mine.  She is the one who brought this out of me.  In the past 2 weeks I have shared this with my mom and some of my best friends.

And My Friend.

And now I’m sharing it with you, my readers.

For years I blamed myself.  But I am learning that I didn’t deserve what happened.  It doesn’t matter that I had on a tight shirt, or had too much to drink, or made eyes at the guy all night before he did it.

He still didn’t have the right to violate me.

The worst part of this story?

2 years later I married him.