Yep, I'm Taken

I've heard girlfriends and talk show experts discuss relationship weight gain for almost as long as I can remember. I believe one woman even made the bestseller list because she coined the term "the newlywed 19" in her book. (Get it? She plays off "the freshman 15," but it's all about gaining weight in your first year of marriage. I don't know who wouldn't be astounded. Then again, that woman does have a bestseller, and I do not, so I should probably move on now.)

I've also heard all the reasons for the new pounds and even offered a few of own. When you're newly in love, who wants to do anything but spend time with his or her significant other? There goes the gym or fitness center. Even something as simple as staying home on a Saturday night to cuddle and watch a movie means there are no long walk from the best parking spot you could find to the bar -- in stilettos -- or dancing until the wee hours.

I tend to fall into the "I don't want this guy to think I'm one of those obnoxious women who counts every calorie and only eats salad," so I'll end up ordering a Rib Eye or pasta coated in cream on those first few dates just to prove how awesome and self-assured I am.

And when it comes to cooking for a date, there's no way I'm going to load his first (or fifteenth) home cooked-by-Laurel meals with my standard made from 2% milk cheese, non-fat sour cream or low-sodium, 98% fat free cream of anything soup. It's only full fat on those first creations. (And it's also why my dad pantomimes reeling in a fish whenever I tell him what I plan to make the SO for dinner that night.)

Plus, there's always the "if he loves me just as I am, why do I have to kill myself with lite, daily yogurt and hours on the Stair Master?" train of thought.

Luckily, I've only had one problem with relationship weight. This is partly because I'm not as skinny as a lot of girls before they start dating and also partly because, until recently, I've never been capable of maintaining a stable relationship beyond the six-month mark or so.

The only time it was a real issue was the summer after my freshman year of college. My first-year of college, rather than gaining the 15 lbs that comes with late night pizza and beer, I lost weight like I never have before. (And please keep in mind, I was a size four at the time who got into a size two BCBG dress for my high school graduation.) Here's what happened:

1. The dining hall food made me sick. The only option I had was to eat at the dining hall, since it was required of freshman, and because I preferred to spend my $200 monthly allowance on long-distance phone calls to the BF. Since the food made me sick, and we had communal bathrooms on the hallway, I decided that the best choice between my gastrointestinal embarrassment and eating campus meals was to stop eating. (I had been accepted to a great school, but was clearly lacking some fundamental reasoning ability.)

2. Since I didn't like frat parties, I didn't drink, so no new calories were introduced to my body every week. (Again, I'm sure the idea of me not drinking is foreign to most. Remember that this was many, many years ago.)

3. Because I didn't like frat parties, and there was so much empty time in my day, I'd often go to the 24-hour gym just to stave off the loneliness.

By the end of that year, I wavered between a size two and a zero. I also had the appearance of high cheek bones for the first time in my life because the rest of my face became so sunken.

Anyways, you're probably wondering how this is a story of relationship weight gain, so here goes. When I got back to Birmingham for the summer, I weighed nothing and wasn't used to eating much of anything. I was also thrilled to be reunited by my not-long-distance-for-the-summer boyfriend.

Now, I don't know how many of you have dated athletes before, but there are a lot of carbs involved (and if you're lucky, only carbs). After all, they're going to burn them all of with hours of daily physical activity. However, if you go from eating next to nothing to having every meal with your carb-fueled boyfriend (pizza, cheeseburgers and the occasional Chinese were his standards), not only do you gain your lost weight back, but you get about 15 or 20 bonus pounds, too. (It's not like I had or was inclined to hours of running around after all of our lunches and dinners.)

By July, I can remember putting on jeans that wouldn't have stayed on my waist before and barely being able to zip them up. I looked in the mirror and then looked over to my sister.

"That's borderline indecent," she said. "You cannot wear that to visit our cousins."

So, I set about to taking off that weight, and have tried not to let relationships mess with my weight since. According to recent events, however, I've been worrying about the wrong problem.

A few weeks ago, some friends and I were having girl's night at a local bar. A table of men was nearby, and one of my (bolder) friends decided to strike up a conversation, "What are y'all doing by yourselves over there?" she said, "There's clearly a group of attractive single girls right here."

"Oh really?" one of the guys said. "You're all single?"

"Four of us are," my friend said. "Two are taken, but those are still some pretty good odds for you."

The men then came over and sat down. Introductions were made. One guy looked at my friend Lesley and said, "You're one of the taken ones." (Her wedding ring is pretty easy to spot.) She nodded.

Then, he turned to me, "You're taken, too, right?"

"I am," I said, "What gave it away?"

"Just had a feeling," he said.

I smiled. "It's because I'm the one who didn't bother to take a shower before going out on a Friday night, isn't it? I've got to have someone at home if I'm willing to leave the house looking like this, huh?"

We both laughed, but I did realize that rather than having my relationship weight, I've just got some relationship laziness. I still dress up for our dinners out, but by now, it's quite possible the SO thinks of my black yoga pants as formal attire. And the more he tells me how beautiful I look without makeup, the less of it I wear. (Eyeliner? Who has the time?)

He is a sweet, forgiving, brave man.

But, I've also decided to do my best to draw the line at visible-from-50-yards zit cream or anything that resembles a dental headgear.

P.S. My waist has never and will never look like the one in the above photo.