- Demi Lynch has always been a large person.
- Even in childhood, Demi remembers feeling different due to her size.
- Constantly, she felt as though she needed to accept love from the wrong people because of her size.
- When Demi focused on self-love, she gained her power and is now helping others, showing us that ‘fat’ isn’t a bad word.
- Demi Lynch, 28, shares her story below…
With my heart racing, I flashed my roomie Drew* my brightest smile.
“Shall we do some shots?” I suggested.
“I wouldn’t say no,” Drew grinned.
I was 20 and at uni.
Drew and I lived in a co-ed dorm with five others.
I was craving intimacy, so I’d decided to make my move on him.
Read more: This plus sized belly dancer teaches women to love their curves
One or two drinks turned into half a dozen, and before long, we were pashing on the couch.
“You’re amazing,” Drew told me as his hands wandered over my body.
We soon moved to the bedroom, and in the days that followed, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
My confidence was through the roof.
Then, one day, I was heading to the gym when Drew invited himself along.
When we arrived, I jumped on the treadmill and started jogging.
Watching me, Drew shook his head. “If you actually want to shed some kilos, you need to be running your legs off,” he said.
I was taken aback, feeling like it was a dig at my size.
Since I was 11, I’d known I was bigger than most girls my age.
I’d spent years obsessing over the scales and tried every fad diet going.
It was only when I turned 20 that I finally accepted being curvy.
I stopped dieting and went to the gym to be fit, not thin.
And up until now, I’d thought Drew loved my voluptuous frame.
Slowly, the insecurities I’d pushed aside came crawling back, and sadly, Drew’s lousy attitude went from bad to worse.
Not only did he continuously pester me about exercise, he also started on what I was eating.
One time, he raised his eyebrows as I added a heaped spoon of parmesan cheese to my pasta.
“Are you sure you want to eat that?” he asked.
“Shall I just starve?” I snapped.
“At least you’d be losing weight,” he shrugged.
For too long, I put up with his nonsense, telling myself I should be grateful he was having sex with me.
At size 20, I was fat after all.
When we finally broke up, it took a while to regain my self-worth.
Then I got chatting to Anthony* in a nightclub. “You’re so pretty,” he told me, making me feel desirable.
He offered to cook me dinner, so a few days later, I showed up at his door wearing my sexiest dress. My boobs were on display, to distract him from my stomach.
His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You look amazing,” he told me.
After dinner and a few bottles of wine, we slept together.
I left his place feeling on top of the world.
“I idolise you,” he told me afterwards.
We started seeing each other and I was full of hope that he could be The One, but soon red flags started to show.
Anthony was popular and loved a night out, always hitting the clubs.
But when I went with him, he was funny about introducing me to people he knew.
When he did, he’d refer to me as his ‘friend’.
Desperate to be the cool, breezy girlfriend, I said nothing, but my mates were horrified when I told them.
“You deserve better,” my friend Catlin told me.
Then one night, watching me dress, Anthony offered his “fashion advice”.
“Black would be more slimming on you,” he said.
“Right,” I said, slipping off the red dress.
I choked back tears as I put on the black dress.
I’d told Anthony about my history of struggling with my body size, but he clearly didn’t care.
I was already in agony from squeezing myself into Spanx to please him.
“Oh, you look so much better!” Anthony enthused.
Feeling like I should be grateful, I let Anthony treat me like that for a year — until I’d finally had enough.
One day, he refused to let me post a picture of us on Instagram, so I dumped him.
“I don’t want to be with someone who’s embarrassed of me,” I told him.
Walking out, I felt empowered, but I continued to sleep with men who weren’t worthy of me.
At the time, the only thing that mattered to me was the approval of men.
As someone who hated their body and never felt attractive, the fact that these men wanted to sleep with me was thrilling.
As a result, I allowed men to treat me like dirt and prioritised pleasing them over my own self-worth.
But everything changed in 2018, when I was working as an intern at the Commonwealth Games and noticed Dan, a photographer.
We didn’t speak until the second-to-last day.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you for ages,” Dan said, shuffling nervously.
We chatted easily and had loads in common.
For the first time, I felt like I could just be me. Now, five years later, we’re engaged.
Since being with Dan, my whole mindset has changed. I now know there’s nothing wrong with being plus-sized, and I don’t need to be covered up or fixed.
Fat people can be desirable and sexy, too.
Today, I proudly wear a size 26 and I champion the plus-sized community through my podcast Faternise.
It’s taken years, but I finally love who I am — and I want to help others know their worth and love themselves, too.
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