Tony Forester. When we first met I was working with a company in a project he was a part of. His lightened skin tone contrasted my darker shade. His ripped abs shredded my flabby tummy in seconds. His words though, opened thighs that never knew a gap could be formed. We had to share an office at some point during the project. This was the start of our three year relationship.

Late nights turned into a friendship which graduated to lovers. When he held onto my 'muffin top' and kissed it, I knew I wanted to share my life with him.

"Jen, them calves are thick and sexy. I won't mind seeing them around my neck."

He flirted with me and I succumbed to everything he said. I helped him while he was building his company. Sharing my expertise in his work. For three years. Unaware of a slim chick who warmed his bed.

I did spend a few nights at his but he frequented my space more. I was never suspicious as he spent my birthday with me, we went to events together. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

Throughout time we spent he always voiced his admiration for me. His love and dedication to me. How would anyone think otherwise when being loved and shown affection?

A friend invited me to one of her work parties. She said it could be a networking thing. I jumped at the chance. I was surprised to spot him on the other side, worst yet with another woman in his arms. I hid in a corner feeling hurt and sad. Even messaged my friend Michelle telling her about it.

Then it happened. He called the small gathering to attention and proposed to the slim modelesque woman. In the company of everyone. I peeped from behind a man with a grey suit on. He saw my eyes and stood in shock. I left my hiding area and walked up to him, congratulating him on this new beginning.

When I left I headed straight to Michelle's house. I cried and screamed, well, spoke harshly about the entire ordeal and slept in her bed.

Next day I saw messages and missed calls from him. Apologising, professing his love, still. Talking about the debacle as convenience but I knew I was just too fat. He didn't like the softness or roundness I offered. His meat had to be lean. He couldn't love a tub of nutella. I didn't fit his long term description.

One good thing came out of that encounter. My writing. I transferred my pain to paper and wrote. Everyday I added to my long list of poetry. I've not turned back since then.

The pain catapulted my writing career and I was grateful. What it did in the end also, was created a mountain of new insecurities. Seeing Luc with this woman brought emotions I thought I had dealt with.

He was different and I knew it. I knew he desired me but that hurt reared is head so sweetly. I wasn't ready to just lay in contentment.

I held on to my pain just a little longer. Ignoring his calls and messages. Reading them stealthily. Sometimes even hiding under my covers. I read his apologies and his admiration for me. In my secured space. Maybe the pain will go away? Maybe I will believe again? Maybe. Until then, my attention was in a deadline that dealt more like a death sentence. I wrote.