The first time it happened, I was getting dressed.
A new boyfriend of just one month told me, as I fastened my bra: ‘You look pregnant! You should lose weight.’
I was stunned and devastated and completely at a loss for words – so remained silent.
That boyfriend went on to give me an ultimatum – lose weight or it’s over. He even outlined a deadline for me: one year. Hearing that, I burst into tears.
I was only 26 and weighed just 9.1 stone.
With hindsight I would have left the relationship immediately. I didn’t at the time though.
In yoga class a few years ago and an older lady asked me when I was due. ‘It’s pizza, I’m just fat,’ I responded
Today, I’m 42 and am two stone heavier.
I am 5ft 6 and my weight sits at the high end of healthy on the BMI calculator. I walk around 15 miles a week, and get my five portions of fruit and veg most days.
Despite this, about once a month someone will ask me if I’m pregnant. I’ve had it for almost two decades now.
Even at a low BMI people asked me the question. I’ve always had a pot belly, I’ve a thick waistline, and each time I’m asked a little part of my self-esteem dies inside.
Do I really look so big? Am I so out of shape? Is my big, round belly really the only striking feature people see when they look at me?
There was that time I was in yoga class a few years ago and an older lady asked me when I was due. ‘It’s pizza, I’m just fat,’ I responded. The whole class was silent and I wanted the yoga mat I was sat on to swallow me and my big belly whole.
Just last year I was on holiday in Devon and an older man refused me entry to a fairground ride: ‘In your condition’ he said, nodding to my tummy. ‘I’m just fat’ I said, deadpan, before shooting him a glare of disdain. Once again I felt huge and like I stood out at the busy fairground because of my body.
I’ve stopped having the massages I used to enjoy after a busy work spell as more often than not I’d get undressed and the masseuse would ask if I was pregnant.
I cried the first time I heard it from the now-ex, getting dressed. But today I just shrug it off and tell people it’s a bump from whatever the last calorific thing I ate was: ‘It’s a cake baby’.
Asking me if I’m pregnant makes me feel strikingly huge. It also means I am always watching my weight and struggle to enjoy my body or food treats. I dress in large tops or baggy sweaters with leggings to cover up my pizza bump, hoping no one asks.
Again.
One small irony is that I’ve never been pregnant. I don’t have children and my partner and I don’t plan to either. I’m on the contraceptive pill and have been for nearly two decades. I’m really happy with my partner and two rescue cats for company.
So as well as making me insecure about my weight, it feels intrusive that other people – especially strangers – feel the need to comment on the status of my womb.
More from Platform
Platform is the home of Metro.co.uk’s first-person and opinion pieces, devoted to giving a platform to underheard and underrepresented voices in the media.
Find some of our best reads of the week below:
An anonymous author shares her story of parental estrangement, that began when her mother told her – aged three – that she was a failed abortion
‘Are you sure that’s your mummy? You’re different colours!’ Rebecca Slater explains why she dreads being asked this as a mother to a white-passing son.
Christian Lewis left his home six years ago with a broken tent, a pair of ill-fitting boots and just £10. He said he left a broken man, but returned to Swansea last week as the happiest on the planet
And widow Zoe Holohan tragically lost her husband to the Greek wildfires of 2018 – just four days after they got married.
These issues are all part of an ongoing concern surrounding the freedom that too many people feel when it comes to commenting on women’s bodies, as well as the sexist assumption that all women must want children.
I’ve come on a fair bit from the first comment. Today if a friend or acquaintance comments on my weight I greet it with silence. Asking if I’m pregnant will get you ghosted for the long term.
If all this wasn’t bad enough, over time I’ve discovered that this isn’t uncommon. Last year, fellow writer Jen McPherson tweeted: ‘Today before our jeep safari, the guide took me to the side and said I couldn’t travel while pregnant. I am mortified and depressed.’
The responses from others were gold – it turns out other women get asked too. I wasn’t alone.
It made me feel better, though still quite angry that other people still comment on women’s bodies like this. I hope one day society reaches a point where commenting on women’s bodies is seen as crass. Like asking a bald man where all his hair is.
At the end of the day this is not your womb or body to comment on. My belly, my business.
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