I Spent Fifteen Years in an Abusive Relationship with Weight Watchers
Weight Watchers — or WW as it has now fashioned itself — and I first met when I was 21 years old and our liaison lasted until I was 34. It is still, to this day, my longest relationship, outlasting every job and every boyfriend I’ve ever had. Even my husband still has another eight years until he can claim the top title of longevity.
At the time I was young and hopeful, looking for someone to take me under their wing and point me in the right direction. Here stood a well-respected and long-standing known entity. A mature individual, older and wiser than all of those fad diets who breezed in and out without lasting results. I mean, hello, Weight Watchers was BFFs with celebrities!
In the beginning, we saw each other face-to-face on a regular basis. It started with weekly dates held in the basement of a local church, me clutching my little notebook with what I ate for the week. Notations made for my daily two teaspoons of oil and five servings of veggies and two servings of dairy. The math for points consumed against points earned through activity. Me, clutching to the hope that Weight Watchers would show me how to fix my body. I clung to those meetings like a north star.
When I started my senior year of college, the meetings continued, this time now in a community center near…
