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I feel like the sex lives of fat ladies have been relegated to some underground sphere.

Fat romance has little space in popular culture beyond the punchline.

He had wooed me from across the planet and thought I was the most beautiful girl alive.

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What she thought she saw was an unworthy fat lady who worked her big ass off to entrap and manage to keep a superior thin man by her side.What she didn’t know was how hard he had actually worked to become my boyfriend, even traveling about 7000 miles by plane just to be holding my hand on that very afternoon.By the time daylight finally broke through, I was pulling a fragrant, espresso-colored cake from the oven. Years ago, the idea of adding salt to caramel, or even desserts, was considered avant-garde, to some.Because it’s that time of year – and yes, I’m talking about the holidays – I’m glad to add a moist, gently spiced cake to my repertoire. The first time I sprinkled a bit of sea salt over a chocolate dessert, a French guest who was dining at my place said, tentatively, “Um…I don’t know if you know this, but you put some salt in the dessert by accident.” It was no accident.As we sat together holding hands, a woman sitting in front of us could not stop looking back at us, checking me and him over and over, snooping for any clues that would help elucidate the details of our entanglement so she could rationalize our coupling.

I often find myself internally negotiating whether it’s even worth it to try to get to know someone by going out on dates, just knowing that I will have to navigate all the scary things that are just part of dating someone new in addition to people gawking and body checking us, tabulating my worth compared to his or vice versa, making sure we don’t threaten anybody’s worldview too much.

I’d been planning on sharing an apple cake recipe with you, having cooked up some apples and bought some dates in preparation.

But one morning I awoke very early after a fitful night of sleep and started pitting dates, in the early hours of the day, before the sun came up.

The idea of being a fat person who is happily dating in public creates really strong feelings in people.

I feel less and less shame about my body as I continue to heal from a near-lifetime of body dysmorphia, but I know that having my body in a fatphobic culture bears a steep price, and the happier I seem the more threatening I am.

This date-studded dessert derives its intoxicating flavor from chunks of dark chocolate and a jigger of brandy.