A man falls in love with a large woman but he is ashamed to be seen with her in public so he invites a thin girl to go with him to his parents’ anniversary celebration.
Mark Hallspringer was determined to find the perfect woman: bright, charming, witty, and of course, beautiful with a dynamite figure and great style. After all, he was handsome, successful and athletic, and quite a catch. He deserved the best.
When Mark started talking to Anna, he had no romantic intentions whatsoever. She definitely wasn’t his type. The funny thing is that sometimes we get what we need, not what we want, and it took Mark a long, long time to realize that.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
It all started when Mark was asked to coordinate efforts between the company’s sales director and the marketing division. Marketing, as it turned out, was being run very efficiently by a woman called Anna Coulton.
Even though Mark and Anna had been working in the same company and the same building for three years, they had never met, not at meetings, or mixers, or even the Christmas party.
Mark sent Anna an email asking her to explain how she was articulating her marketing push with the sales division (sales were lagging and blaming marketing).
Anna’s reply was concise, clear, and neatly put the ball back on the salesforce side of the fence. Mark liked the way her mind worked, and he also liked the fact that she had put forward several suggestions to help boost sales.
The next day, he called her on the phone to discuss her ideas, and to set up a meeting between her and the sales director. Anna had a lovely throaty voice, and a lovely laugh, and halfway through they were chatting like old friends.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
From then on, Mark found himself calling Anna — supposedly to check up on progress — but in reality to hear her voice. He liked Anna Coulton’s intelligence and sense of humor, and he loved talking to her.
A few weeks of daily conversations down the line, Mark asked Anna out on a date. There was a long silence on the other end of the line. “Are you sure about that, Mark?” Anna asked.
“Of course!” Mark said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I may not be what you expect,” she said quietly. “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”
“Tea…” said Mark. “Did I ever tell you my mother’s British? I love tea, every type of tea, I’m addicted to tea…” Anna laughed and reluctantly agreed to have lunch with Mark on Saturday.
The day arrived and Mark waited impatiently outside the restaurant for Anna to arrive. “I should have asked if she was a blonde or a brunette!” he thought to himself. “How will I know who she is?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Just then, a large girl approached Mark and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hello, Mark,” said Anna’s throaty, sexy voice. “I’m Anna.”
Mark was stunned. Whatever he had expected wasn’t this! Anna was beautiful, yes, very beautiful with a face worthy of the cover of Vogue, but she was overweight. She was what they now tactfully call a plus-size.
But then they started talking, and Mark forgot about her weight and found himself completely fascinated by Anna and her radiant smile. At the end of lunch, he already knew he wanted to see her again.
Over the next six months, they fell in love, but Mark found himself cringing from the idea that other people would know he was dating a big girl. The truth is, he was embarrassed, and that embarrassment shamed him.
At work, they kept their relationship under wraps, because of company policy, but Mark had already met Anna’s family and knew she was waiting to meet his. The issue became even more pressing when he found himself proposing one night.
He loved Anna. He wanted to spend all his time, the rest of his life with her, but he didn’t want anyone to know… He imagined his kid brother’s smirk as he eyed Anna’s ample curves. No! It wasn’t going to happen!
Then disaster struck. His parents were having their 40th wedding anniversary celebration and Anna helped him to shop for a present. “So when is the party, babe?” Anna asked excitedly. “I can’t wait to meet them! Do they know we’re engaged?”
Mark nodded. “Yes, they do! They know all about you!” That was a lie. All that his parents knew was that Mark was in love and engaged to a beautiful girl called Anna, but they knew nothing specific about her at all.
Mark explained that the party would be at his parents’ home in Connecticut, and they would take the two-hour drive over on Friday night, then spend the weekend. Anna was delighted, and Mark was horrified. How was he going to get out of this bind? Anna expected to go, and his parents expected her there…
Then Mark had an idea. It was a stupid idea, though it seemed to be brilliant at the time mostly because it would save him embarrassment.
Two days before they were supposed to drive up to Connecticut, Mark called Anna. “Honey, I have bad news!” he said. “I’m on a plane. The board wants me up in Colorado to sort out a labor issue, which means I’ll be flying directly to Connecticut on Saturday morning, if at all. I’m sorry, you won’t be able to go with me!”
Anna was very disappointed. “Oh, no!” she gasped, I’m so sorry. But what about your present? Do you want me to send it by special delivery?”
Mark sighed with relief. Anna was taking it well. “Baby, that would be brilliant! Let me give you my parents’ address…”
Anna hung up the phone. Poor Mark! He’d sounded so disappointed! Anna stared down at his parents’ address and an idea popped into her head. Why not deliver the gift in person? It would be a lovely surprise for Mark!
That it would be a mistake didn’t even cross Anna’s mind until she knocked on the door of Mark’s parents’ house and a slender older woman answered.
“Yes?” the woman said politely.
Anna gave her best smile. “Hi,” she said. “This is an anniversary gift for Mr. and Mrs. Hallspringer?”
The woman smiled and took the present from Anna’s hands. “Thank you!” she said and started to close the door.
Anna put out her hand. “I’m Anna. Anna Coulton, Mark’s fiancée?” She started to feel nervous when the woman’s mouth hung open.
“Is this a joke, young woman?” she asked sternly. “Because my son and his fiancée Anna are sitting down to dinner with me this minute…” Anna pushed past the woman rudely and walked into the house.
There was a big table set up in the dining room and at one end was Mark, and next to him, hanging on to his arm was a slender gorgeous girl. “Mark!” Anna cried. “What is going on here?”
Mark jumped to his feet and his face turned deadly white. “Anna-” he stuttered. “It’s not what you think… This woman, she’s an actress…”
“I don’t understand,” Anna cried. “If you don’t love me, why did you propose!”
“I do love you!” Mark said. “It’s just that… I was afraid…You…You know…”
“No,” Anna said. “I don’t know. What about me?” The other people around the table were sitting in absolute silence and most of them were looking down, and away from Mark.
Mark whispered, “You’re so…big.”
Anna looked him in the eyes for one long moment then she took off her ring and placed it on the table.
“You don’t know what love is. If you loved me,” she said sadly, “you wouldn’t be ashamed of me.” Before Mark could say another word, she turned her back and walked out.
Mark tried to phone Anna again and again, but she wouldn’t take his phone calls, not even at work. He was desolate. He missed Anna more and more, and he now realized he might have lost her forever.
There had to be a way to win her back, to make her see that he’d learned his lesson… The next day, when Anna was walking up to the office block she and Mark worked in, she saw a crowd of her colleagues milling around in front of the building and pointing at a huge billboard on the other side of the street.
When they saw Anna, they all started to whistle and clap. Anna frowned, then she saw the billboard, and her mouth dropped open. On the huge billboard was a photo of herself and Mark, with their arms around each other.
A huge caption proclaimed, “I LOVE ANNA COULTON AND I WANT TO MARRY HER!” Anna was still trying to process the whole scene when Mark walked up to her and dropped to one knee.
“Please marry me,” Mark said with tears in his eyes. “I love you, now and forever, forgive me even if I’m an idiot!”
“You ARE an idiot!” Anna said, “But I still love you!”
Anna and Mark are making plans for a winter wedding up in Connecticut and all their friends and both families are invited.
What can we learn from this story?
- Accept people for who and what they are. Mark was in love with Anna but he was afraid of what people would think because she was plus-size.
- What matters the most is the love and kindness in people’s hearts, not their looks. When he lost Anna, Mark finally realized what really mattered to him.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a disabled woman who sees her father-in-law disappear into the woods with her two young children.
My Husband Leaves Piles of Dirty Dishes and Refuses to Wash Them – One Day, I Taught Him a Real Lesson
Danielle’s kitchen once overflowed with dishes, but a playful plot turned it into a place of partnership. Discover how her creative maneuver sparked clean counters and renewed camaraderie in her marriage.
My name is Danielle, and at 45, I’ve pretty much seen it all. As a nurse, I spend ten hours a day making life a little easier for everyone else, but back at home, it’s a whole different story.
Danielle | Source: Midjourney
You see, my husband, Mark, works from home. He earns a good chunk more than I do, which somehow translates to him dubbing himself the “real breadwinner.” That’s his excuse for leaving every single household chore to me.
Our kitchen tells the tale of neglect every evening. “Welcome to Mount Dishmore,” I mutter as I walk in the door and the sight of piled-up dishes greets me. It’s like they’re competing for a mountain climbing record.
A pile of dirty dishes in the sink | Source: Pexels
Mark, lounging on the sofa, throws a casual, “Tough day?” my way without moving an inch.
“Yep, and it just got tougher,” I respond, eyeing the chaos in the sink. Something inside me snaps. Enough is enough.
Every morning, I leave a note on the fridge that reads, “Please wash any dishes you use today. Thanks!” But it might as well be invisible. By the evening, the kitchen sink is a disaster zone. Cups and plates tower precariously, a testament to Mark’s culinary adventures throughout the day.
The note | Source: Midjourney
One evening, as I balanced a frying pan on top of a wobbly stack of bowls, I asked Mark if he could help me with the dishes. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?” he said, his eyes glued to his laptop screen. That something was obviously very important. So important it couldn’t be paused for a few minutes to help clear the debris he’d contributed to all day.
I tried different tactics. More notes. More pleas. “Babe, it’s really hard for me to come home after a long shift and face this,” I told him one night, hoping for a sliver of empathy.
“It’s just a few dishes, Dani. You’ll get through them in no time,” he replied without looking up from his screen. His nonchalance stung.
Danielle comes to hide the mug in her closet | Source: Midjourney
The breaking point came on a particularly tough Thursday. After a grueling double shift, I came home to find the sink more crowded than a bargain bin on Black Friday. That was it. I was done being the sole dish fairy.
The next morning, I didn’t leave a note. Instead, I washed every dish—except one. Mark’s favorite mug, the one with the quirky superhero he’s loved since his teens. I cleaned it, dried it, and hid it in the back of our bedroom closet.
That evening, Mark rummaged through the cupboards with a frown. “Have you seen my mug?” he asked, sounding puzzled.
Mark tries to find his mug | Source: Midjourney
“Nope,” I said, keeping my voice light. “Maybe it’s lost in the great Mount Dishmore.”
He chuckled and grabbed another cup, but I saw the gears turning in his head. Each day that followed, a few more items mysteriously disappeared: a fork here, a spoon there, and his plate with the comic hero. I was waging a silent protest, and for the first time, I had his attention.
As the days passed, Mark’s favorite items began to vanish one by one. His favorite comic hero plate—gone. The steak knives we got for our anniversary—vanished. Each disappearance was meticulously planned. I continued my silent strike, my secret little rebellion against the kingdom of unwashed dishes that Mark had built.
Empty cupboard | Source: Midjourney
One morning, as Mark reached for a bowl to make his cereal, he paused, scanning the almost empty cupboard. “Dani, have we been robbed? Where’s all our stuff?”
I sipped my coffee, feigning confusion. “Hmm, I guess things are walking away since they’re not getting cleaned.”
Mark’s frustration bubbled as he used a measuring cup for his cereal. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered.
Cereal in a measuring cup | Source: Midjourney
I just shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in my eye. The kitchen had transformed into a culinary Bermuda Triangle, and Mark was finally noticing the chaos.
By Saturday, the climax of my plan unfolded. I announced a spa day for myself, leaving Mark home alone. “Enjoy your day!” I called cheerfully, knowing well the scene I’d return to.
I came back, relaxed and rejuvenated, to find Mark in the middle of the kitchen, staring bewildered at the barren counters and the near-empty sink. “Where are all the dishes?” he asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.
Mark tries to find the remaining dishes | Source: Midjourney
“They decided to wash themselves,” I quipped, hanging my coat.
That’s when it happened. Mark sighed, a deep, resigning sigh. He filled the sink with water, squirted some soap, and started scrubbing the few pieces left. I lounged in the living room, the clinks and clatters from the kitchen music to my ears. Mark was finally partaking in the symphony of chores.
Watching him tackle the task, I felt a wave of satisfaction mixed with relief. It wasn’t just about the dishes; it was about sharing our lives, all parts of it. I appreciated his effort, seeing it as a sign of his love, as much as a recognition of my daily toil.
Mark washes the rest of the dishes | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I ‘discovered’ all the missing items. “Oh look, they’ve come back from their adventure,” I exclaimed, showing him the box of neatly arranged dishes and cutlery.
Mark looked at me, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I guess I didn’t realize how much it was really,” he admitted. “It’s a lot to deal with alone, isn’t it?”
“It sure is,” I agreed, happy to hear those words.
From that day on, Mark made a genuine effort. He’d wash his coffee mug right after finishing his morning brew. Sometimes, I’d find him battling Mount Dishmore without any prompt. The sight was as refreshing as my spa day had been.
Danielle enjoys her SPA day | Source: Midjourney
The sippy cup, a relic from my campaign, now sat prominently on a shelf, a light-hearted trophy from our domestic battleground, reminding us both of the lessons learned and the peace restored.
Nowadays, our evenings are quite the idyllic scene, a stark contrast to the chaotic nights of the past. Mark and I share the kitchen duties seamlessly, humming along to old ’80s hits while we cook and clean together. He washes the dishes as I dry them, each plate and cup sparking small conversations about our day.
Mark and Danielle | Source: Midjourney
The kitchen, once a battleground of unwashed dishes and unspoken frustrations, has transformed into a place of laughter and collaboration. Mark often jokes about the “Great Dish Disappearance.” We chuckle at the memory, appreciating how far we’ve come.
I Am 8 Months Pregnant and My Husband’s Night Eating Is Constantly Leaving Me Hungry
Hey everyone, just here sharing a bit of my life as I’m 8 months pregnant and super excited about our little one coming soon. But, I’ve got this kind of weird situation at home making things tougher than expected. My biggest challenge isn’t the usual pregnancy stuff, but my husband, Mark, and his relentless nighttime eating.
A man eating against a dark backdrop
Every night, after midnight, Mark goes on his kitchen raids. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if it didn’t hit me so hard. He literally eats everything—meals I prepped for the next day, my lunch leftovers, you name it. When you’re 8 months pregnant and wake up to find no food, then have to either cook again or run to the store, it’s just exhausting.
An upset pregnant woman holding her belly | Source: Shutterstock
We’ve talked about this so many times, but he just laughs it off and suggests I should simply make more or stash away some special snacks for myself. It feels like he’s not taking any of this seriously, just treating it as a quirky thing he does.
An upset woman with her head in her hands as her husband looks on | Source: Shutterstock
So, last Thursday night really showed me how bad it’s gotten. I spent the afternoon cooking up a big batch of my favorite chili, thinking it would last a few days and was even considerate enough to make extra for Mark.
A ramekin filled with chili | Source: Pexels
But come 1 AM, there I am, woken up by pots banging. I find Mark in the kitchen, helping himself to nearly all the chili. “Babe, I was just so hungry, and it smelled so good,” he tried to explain, clueless about the effort I put into making it last. “I made that chili so we could have meals ready for the week. We can’t keep doing this. I’m totally out of energy, and it’s really not fair,” I told him.
A crying pregnant woman | Source: Shutterstock
His solution? “Why don’t we just make more tomorrow?” I was too tired to argue and just went back to bed, but I knew something had to change. I couldn’t keep up like this, not this far into my pregnancy.
A man arguing with his pregnant wife | Source: Shutterstock
Things just kept going the same way. Mornings where I’d find my meals and snacks gone were becoming the norm. It was draining, and after one morning of finding out he’d eaten the lasagna I’d planned for lunch, I hit my breaking point.
A slice of lasagna garnished with basil | Source: Pexels
Sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by grocery bags because I was too worn out to put them away, I called my sister. I was in tears, telling her how Mark’s eating habits were leaving me hungry and messing up my sleep every night.
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