The more I baked, the more I ate, and soon, the weight piled on faster than I could have imagined. Each time I looked in the mirror, I felt like a stranger was staring back at me. And my husband, Bryce…
He didn’t make things any easier.“Maybe if you spent more time at the gym and less in the kitchen, you’d look better in that dress,” he’d say with a smirk.Those words cut deep. I’d hear him chuckling on the phone with his friends, making jokes about my weight, thinking I couldn’t hear. But I always heard. And it hurts.There was a time when I was always by Bryce’s side, his perfect, supportive wife. I’d attend all his work events with a smile on my face and a sparkle in my eye.
But as the pounds piled on, my confidence plummeted. I stopped accompanying him altogether. I became a shadow of the woman I used to be, hiding away in the kitchen while Bryce continued to live his life without me. “Is this it? Is this all I’m meant to be? I was lost, drowning in a sea of self-doubt and loneliness, with no lifeline in sight.One day, I had to attend an important event. It was the first one I was catering as a chef. My desserts would be front and center, the highlight of the evening.
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