ROSIE GROEN: Revenge is best served hot
Stilering: Nicola Rose. Grimering: Caroline Barnes by Frank Agency. Hare: Alex Szabo by Carol Hayes
It’s a truth universally acknowledged that while breakups are categorically not fun, they can be the catalyst for whipping you into your best ever shape. Adele, Beyoncé, Princess Diana and Khloé Kardashian are all proof that you can rise from the ashes of relationship despair to look hotter than ever.
Post-split I dropped serious pounds. Too many initially (when my knickers were literally falling down I took it as a bad sign), but when my weight levelled out I was me, just minus the love handles that had been clinging on since having my babies. Result.
When I googled it I found out weight loss is a common side effect of being dumped because in times of deep emotional stress your body is flooded with adrenaline, which in turn suppresses your appetite and sends your metabolism through the roof.
Aside from gaining a more streamlined physique, I also upped my appearance game, dispatching the greying M&S pants and becoming reacquainted with mascara and concealer. Not for me sinking into the comfort zone of elasticated waistbands and tubs of Häagen-Dazs.
I may have felt utterly crap but I was determined not to look it as well. This phenomenon is called a ‘breakover’. (Breakover: noun, a complete transformation of someone’s appearance triggered by a romantic split.)
There is also the ‘revenge body’ concept to consider. This is about the deeply gratifying and much imagined scenario of turning up at a party looking next-level hot and giving your drooling ex the metaphorical two fingers.
Vir my, getting a revenge body was not about making my ex regretful, but instead about refusing to slide into victim mode. Also if I was to go back on the market, I wanted to be in prime condition. I know this isn’t just a female thing. My boyfriend recently messaged a long-lost dentist friend about some teeth improvements. ‘Are you getting a divorce?’ was the quickfire response.
When my boyfriend queried this line of questioning, the dentist replied that men in long-term relationships don’t venture much beyond a scale and polish.
N Paar jaar gelede, a male friend told me about his ‘fat nup’. Hy het, in his marriage, piled on the pounds. But in the throes of divorce he had taken up juicing and an extremely expensive gym membership.
The woman he then met had had a similarly transformative experience, so they signed up to an agreement that decreed they were not allowed to put the pre-divorce weight back on.
Which brings me to my own boyfriend – last week he fired a warning shot. ‘Every girl I went out with in my 20s gained serious weight,’ he told me. Turns out that at the time he was training three times a week and eating The Rock levels of calories. The girls he dated kept pace with his consumption, but not his athleticism. Which gives me the fear.
Men’s Health reported a study that found the average person gains 17lb within a year of finding love. The theory is that once you move out of the first phase of dating – where you can’t eat because of excitement and any calories you do consume are burnt up by nervous energy – you enter a more contented period of mainlining wine and salty snacks on the sofa. And pub lunches. And cosy takeaways.
Plus statistics show you are not as motivated to keep in shape because you already have a partner. Does this mean we are both destined to slide into elasticated waistbands and double-chin territory?
In an effort to mitigate the above my boyfriend has embarked on a regime that is annoyingly disciplined and has already garnered serious results. In just one week he has dropped the kind of poundage I could only ever achieve with a nasty case of norovirus. What a loser.