Dear Stephen,

I’ve been with my partner for almost four years. Last year, he lost his job, and since then he’s really been letting himself go. He had a good severence package, so he spent almost six months not working…and eating. I think he’s probably gained at least 20 pounds. He has a job now, but if anything he’s just gained more weight since going back to work. Our sex life has dwindled to nothing, though it hasn’t been all that terrific for the last two or three years anyway. Sometimes he talks about his weight and asks me unanswerable questions like, “Do you think I’m fat?” and I’m sure he would be horribly offended if I said yes. Thoughts?

–Not a Chubby Chaser

Dear Chaser,

Your signature is colorful, but is it also a little snarky? I ask because it sounds quite a bit less concerned and compassionate than your letter. I’m not saying this is a bad thing–you get to think and feel however you like–but if you’re like a lot of people in this situation, there are a few things you should know.

First, your partner probably knows you’re not attracted to him, and even knows about your impatience. He may be aware (consciously or not) that you find his body unattractive, and that you’re blaming him for your poor sex life, even though it was not going well when he was in good shape. It’s likely you’re both pretending that his weight hasn’t changed, pretending that it’s not a problem, and mutually agreeing that it would be wrong or shallow of you to make your feelings known. Finally, you both probably share the opinion that his body is unattractive right now.

Consider saying yes the next time he asks you if you think he’s fat. After all, it’s true. You do think that. And follow it up with an honest discussion about it. You could say something like, “Yes, I did notice that you gained weight, and I am concerned about it. I’m concerned because of your health, but also because I don’t think either of us feel comfortable with it. If you’re concerned about it and want to work on it, is there anything I can do to help you and support you?”

Your partner might take great offense at this. He may say, “Well if you don’t love me as I am, then maybe we shouldn’t be together!” or some other retort. But this is a red herring. When a person goes on the defense, most of the time he’s defensive because on some level he knows you’ve touched on a truth, on something he himself knows is a problem. So hang in there when he gets defensive. Respond with comments such as, “I know this is hard for you, but I would be disrespecting you if I lied to you just to protect your feelings.” And try to stay present with him emotionally. Don’t be snarky or dismissive, and try not to get sucked into a fight.

Finally, about the sex issue: this could be an opportunity for you to take some ownership of the problem so that your partner can confront himself about his weight without thinking that his weight alone is the reason you’re not having sex. You could say, “You know, our sex life was lousy long before you put on weight, so obviously both of us could learn a few things about sex, and how to be better at it. I know I’ve got some issues to work on…” If you’re honest with him about your own hang-ups, you’ll make it easier for him to relax and address the weight issue nondefensively.

One last note: try not to feel hopeless about the situation. Lots of people successfully lose weight (and keep it off) when they get serious about it, and particularly when their partner is supportive. And–believe me or not, but this is true!–if your partner is actually fully comfortable with his heavier weight and has no intention of losing pounds, he could actually become sexually attractive to you again. There are lots of heavier people who carry their weight well, and because they are comfortable with themselves, they’re sexually attractive. (And it works the other way: slender people who anxiously obsess about their weight can be pretty unattractive…) I don’t know which path your partner will choose, but your own courage and honesty will really help.

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Dear Stephen,

I was upset when I read your post about Elizabeth Edwards. I don’t understand how you can say that her husband shouldn’t be selfless when she’s going through stage-four breast cancer. I wonder if you know what it’s like to be diagnosed with something like that, and then to find out that your husband has been lying to you. It was outrageous what he did to her. I don’t think it’s too much to expect that when you are diagnosed with a terminal illness, your husband should be there for you, one hundred percent. I wonder too if your take on this is influenced by the fact that you are a man. What do you think?

–Concerned about Elizabeth

Dear Concerned,

Thanks for your honesty, and for taking the time to bring this up with me. I can see how my take on the Edwards situation can be seen as insensitive. Maybe it would be better (and still accurate) to say it this way: if you’re in a relationship in which you’ve both promised to be monogamous, then having sex with someone else is a violation, and a painful one. You’re now forcing your spouse to deal with what you’ve done, and whether or not she decides to work with you on a long, painful process of reconciliation, she has to cope with this one way or another. You have behaved unethically. You have harmed your spouse. Even if Elizabeth Edwards had been cancer-free and fully healthy, this would have been a serious harm. Her life-threatening illness only deepens the sadness and anger she feels right now.

Having said all that, I must say this: no matter what your spouse has done, and no matter how ill you are, you yourself are an adult in a relationship (at least for now), and your own ethical codes are still operating. Elizabeth Edwards made promises to her husband on the same day he made promises to her. I wasn’t there of course, and I don’t know what their vows were, but I’ll hazard a guess that she promised something in the neighborhood of “respect, trust, help, and care for” him (I borrowed that from a vow I’ve taken myself). Now, imagine that he hadn’t had an affair and they were just dealing with her illness. She said that because she was ill, it was she who “needed a selfless partner.” To my ears, that sounded like her illness relieved her of the obligation to (using my example) respect, trust, help, and care for him. I may be wrong–she may not have been saying that at all. But if this is what she meant when she said that seriously ill people need a “selfless” partner, it strikes me as going a step too far.

Finally, I’ll just say it this way: when I’m on my deathbed, as far as I am able, I intend to continue honoring the vows I’ve taken and commitments I’ve made to the people I love. Elizabeth Edwards may also feel this way. It’s just that her words led me to think otherwise.

Update: A quick note about vows and ethics. After what happened, Elizabeth Edwards could have chosen to leave her husband and get a divorce. Many people (myself included) would understand this choice and think that it was reasonable. If she left him, this would not be (in my view) unethical. Sometimes marriages end this way, despite the promises that were made. One person honestly decides that the marriage cannot continue. It’s not for me to say that they’re wrong about that. The ethics come into play in the “how” of deciding to divorce, and the “how” of separating and divorcing. If it’s done in a flip way, or a vengeful way, then we’ve got some ethical problems. But honest discernment that leads to an end of a relationship is not, in and of itself, unethical. Quite the opposite!

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