BRYONY GORDON: I’m in a ‘mixed-weight’ relationship, and that didn’t stop my husband ravishing me last night

This is something I don’t often bring up in polite conversation: I weigh more than my husband. I look like I ate him for breakfast.

I eat it for breakfast quite often, but only in a figurative sense, when I realize he didn’t send his dad a birthday card or take time off work for the family vacation.

Anyway, I don’t really talk about size because after a lifetime of self-loathing, I’ve only recently come to the point where I no longer define myself by my weight. I’ve been there, done that, and it’s only made me miserable (and hungry).

…the character Colin Bridgerton also has no trouble with the ample curves of his love interest Penelope Featherington

And here I am, curvy, confident and showered with compliments from my adoring husband, who has absolutely no complaints about my size, especially judging by the delicious treatment he gave me last night.

But I know it bothers others. I know it does because you only have to look at the bile that was thrown at footballer Declan Rice’s girlfriend Lauren Fryer earlier this year, when disgusting trolls who made comments about her weight forced Fryer to take her social media down.

And I know it bothers others, because respectable magazines that normally only publish pieces about politics and business are dropping everything to produce long polemics about the fact that the new series of Bridgerton features a couple having lots of hot sex, even though the woman is apparently bigger than the man. I mean, imagine that! In The Spectator, a (female) writer produced an entire article about how unlikely it was that the “hot, rich” Colin Bridgerton would want Nicola Coughlan, who plays his love interest Penelope. “She’s not hot and there’s no getting away from it… she’s fat,” went the piece, which ran to about 1,000 words.

Meanwhile, Forbes readers, including CEOs and industry luminaries, were treated to a lengthy article this week titled “Are We Still Not Ready for On-Screen Mixed Romance?” Clearly not, at least not if the “fat” person in the relationship happens to be a woman.

Because the truth is that the culture has been filled to the brim with “mixed romances” since the dawn of television. It’s just that, as far as I can tell, neither The Spectator nor Forbes has felt compelled to publish pieces exploring the improbability of the relationships between Marge and Homer Simpson, or Tony and Carmela Soprano.

Come to think of it, the dynamic between a fat man and a thin woman is a recurring phenomenon on television, especially in sitcoms and cartoons, from Fred and Wilma Flintstone to Charlotte and Harry in Sex and the City.

But fat woman, thin man? No one would ever go for it! (Unless the story is about her gaining weight and him leaving for a younger, thinner woman).

My husband and I have always had a mixed romance. Me, soft, curvy, “Rubenesque,” ​​as he drooled on one of our first dates; him, lean, muscular, given to wearing tight white Gap T-shirts. I can’t seem to get my sultry bosom over my heaving bosom, and thus the fantasy I’ve always had of strutting around my boyfriend’s apartment looking “cute” in his oversized tank tops and boxers (it’s Harry who steals my sweaters, it turns out).

I always had this ridiculous patriarchal belief that I had to be small to get a man, that a guy would only find me attractive if he could hold me in his arms like King Kong. Then I met Harry and was reminded that not all guys are so shallow or empty.

Ironically, it was his love for me, with all my dimples and wobbly glory, that set me on the path to self-acceptance and made me realize that I deserve to exist and be happy no matter what my body looks like.

But I know our mixed romance surprises some people. There are friends who would never be rude enough to mention my size, but who often comment on his. “Gosh, doesn’t Harry look slim!” they’ll say when we meet for lunch. Usually my husband eats some kind of lean protein and salad while I tuck into the bread basket. “He always looks slim,” I point between bites. “Now pass me the butter.”

As a plus-size woman who loves to parade around in a bikini on social media, I’m used to the fatphobia faced by Nicola Coughlan (who, let’s face it, isn’t fat at all).

Declan Rice’s girlfriend Lauren Fryer, pictured, was the target of comments about her weight by disgusting internet trolls earlier this year

Fred and Wilma Flintstone show how the dynamic between a fat man and a thin woman is a phenomenon on television

I am often belittled by strangers for my body; recently, while jogging along the river, a man decided to yell “run, fatso, run” at me, as if this would make both of our days better. For the record, he was sitting on his behind and doing nothing but smoking a cigarette.

I regularly get messages from anonymous trolls detailing how disgusting they find me and how little they want to have sex with me. It’s quite chilling that it never occurs to them that I wouldn’t want to have sex with them.

It’s enough to misquote Winston Churchill: “I may be fat, but in the morning I have hash browns for breakfast and you’re still a nasty little misogynist.” Our obsession with women’s bodies is indeed all-encompassing and exhausting. It’s not just weight differences that are discussed in relationships, but height and age differences too.

I don’t think people realize how incredibly unattractive it is to hear someone comment on someone else’s body. You might as well put a big red flag in the ground next to you that says, “JUDGMENTAL, PERSONALITY-FREE FOOL.”

Which brings me to my biggest problem with Bridgerton (and it has nothing to do with weight). It’s that brilliant, daring Penelope Featherington who would ever want to have sex with the charisma vacuum that is Colin. Now that’s bad casting.