76-yеаr-оld Саndiсе Веrgеn, sаys shе is hаррy bеing ‘fаt’ bесаusе shе ‘livеs tо еаt’

Candice Bergen is a television screen staple. The actress has been in multiple shows and movies over the years, and has earned a solid reputation for herself!

And when critics come to silence her, she shows that she is someone who will not be messed with! She really is someone who lives life on her own terms.

Candice Bergen started off her career as a model, working for magazines likе Vogue. Since then her career has sky-rocketed and she has become a household name. Her role in the show “Murphy Brown” led her to five Emmy wins.

But her iconic role came to her with a few hardships involved. In an interview, she revealed that the role was meant for a younger actress, namely Heather Locklear.

circa 1967: American actor and model Candice Bergen. (Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

But her audition caught the writer and producer Diane English’s eye who insisted that she was the one for the role.

The show and her role were a huge hit and women all across the country adored her portrayal of a reported. Bergen fondly recalls, “That character gave me permission to be my brattiest, bawdiest self.”

She was nominated for seven Emmys for the role and won five of them. But apparently, after her fifth win, she asked not to be considered for an Emmy again.

The reason for this was because of how the actress’ priorities changed and she decided to live her life differently. In her Memoir “A Fine Romance,” she revealed that she was more focused on herself, talking about how she did not care if she was ‘fat’ because she loved to eat!

She talked candidly in the book about her relationship with food, revealed that in the last 15 years, she has gained about 30 pounds but does not care about it.

She plainly in the book, “Let me just come right out and say it: I am fat. I live to eat. None of this ‘eats to live’ stuff for me.”

She also shаrеd stories of her enjoying decadent meals at dinner parties with her husband, and getting smug looks from other dinner guests but that she pays no mind to them. She wrote, “I am a champion eater. No carb is safe — no fat, either.”

She went on to talk about how women in their 50s are so caught up with trying to maintain their youth that they often forget to enjoy their current selves. She has opted out of trying to maintain her youthful looks or figure, and is very much enjoying her decision to do so.

While her friends focus on their diets, Bergen is clear that she focused on food. She wrote, “dieting is out of my purview. I crave cookies, all the things that dilate my pupils.”

She talked of women she knows who ‘vomit’ out their meals after eating them to maintain their figures, strongly saying that she would never do such a practice.

She wrote, “They maintain their weight by routinely vomiting after major meals consisting of a slice of steak or a filet of fish. I am incapable of this.”

Now the actress is in the second stage of her life, as a mother and grandmother. Her first marriage to French director Louis Malle lasted 15 years, ending upon his dеаth from cancer in 1995. She had her daughter Chloe Malle from that union.

She married Marshal Rose in the 2000s, her second marriage which is still going successfully.

She is now also a grandmother to her daughter’s children. Her grandson Arthur Louis Albert was born in 2020, and her granddaughter, Alice Malle Albert, followed in April 2022.

The actress has publicly talked about the excitement she feels for her daughter on becoming a mother, she said of her daughter, “She is the love of my life.”

She shаrеs sweet moments from her life on social media, and the actress is clearly smitten with being a grandmother to two toddlers.

My Neighbor Knocked on My Door with Tears in Her Eyes – ‘Your Husband Is a Monster,’ She Cried

The knock was urgent, desperate, like someone fleeing for their life. When I opened the door, my neighbor stood there, her face streaked with tears. What she said next didn’t just shake me — it destroyed me.

That day started like any other, with no sign of the chaos that was about to turn my world upside down. It was my day off, and I was finally getting some much-needed time to myself.

Woman relaxing at home with a glass of wine | Source: Midjourney

Woman relaxing at home with a glass of wine | Source: Midjourney

My husband, Andrew, had already left for work, and our two kids, Mia and Ethan, were at school. I enjoyed the silence as I cleaned the house, blissfully unaware of the storm heading my way.

Andrew and I had been married for twelve years. He was the kind of man who turned heads at social events—charming, confident, and always dressed to impress.

As a manager at the same mid-sized company where I worked as the HR person, he was well-respected and admired by colleagues. To the outside world, we had the perfect life: two steady incomes, two healthy kids, and a beautiful home in a quiet suburb.

Mother and her children enjoying picnic | Source: Midjourney

Mother and her children enjoying picnic | Source: Midjourney

But as I look back now, I wonder if the perfection was just a façade—if I had been blind all along.

Andrew could be intense. He was possessive, though he masked it well. At parties, he would casually slide an arm around my waist and steer me away from conversations he deemed “too friendly.” If I wore something he thought was too revealing, he’d laugh it off but say something like, “That dress is for my eyes only, right?”

I brushed it off at the time, convincing myself it was his way of showing he cared. After all, he could be incredibly thoughtful, too. He never missed an anniversary or birthday, always showering me with flowers, jewelry, or handwritten notes that made me feel cherished.

Couple having a romantic dinner | Source: Midjourney

Couple having a romantic dinner | Source: Midjourney

But then there was the flirting. Andrew had an effortless charm that drew people to him, and he knew it. He’d flash that disarming smile at waitresses, neighbors, and even my coworkers. And whenever I brought it up, he’d tilt his head, look genuinely hurt, and say, “Emma, you know you’re the only one for me.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe we had something special. So I ignored the small cracks—the late-night work meetings, the occasional phone call he’d step outside to take. It was easier to trust him than to face the possibility that my instincts might be right.

But the truth? The truth was waiting, just on the other side of that knock at my door.

Wooden white door | Source: Pexels

Wooden white door | Source: Pexels

Just as I was finishing vacuuming the living room, an ear-splitting bang shook me out of my thoughts. Someone was pounding on the door like their life depended on it.

When I opened it, I found my neighbor, Melissa, standing there. She was shaking and had tears streaming down her face. Melissa was usually the epitome of poise — a 35-year-old woman who worked in PR and always seemed calm under pressure. But now she was a complete mess.

Woman standing on the door | Source: Midjourney

Woman standing on the door | Source: Midjourney

“Melissa? What happened?” I asked, my heart already racing.

Before she could answer, I noticed movement behind her. About 30 feet away, sprinting toward the house, was my husband, Andrew. The same Andrew who was supposed to be at work. His face was pale, his tie out of line, and he looked furious.

Man in a suit running | Source: Midjourney

Man in a suit running | Source: Midjourney

“YOUR HUSBAND IS A MONSTER!” Melissa screamed, her voice cracking as she clutched the doorframe.

“What the hell is going on?!” I shouted back, caught between confusion and dread.

Melissa grabbed my arm and yanked me inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

“You need to listen to me,” she said, her voice trembling. “This isn’t something I can stay silent about anymore.”

Andrew’s fists pounded on the door. “Open up, Emma! Whatever she’s saying, it’s not true!”

But the fear in Melissa’s eyes told me otherwise.

Sad woman standing on the door | Source: Midjourney

Sad woman standing on the door | Source: Midjourney

“Start talking,” I demanded, my voice low but firm.

She took a deep breath, as though gathering every ounce of courage she had.

“Emma, I’m… I’m Andrew’s mistress.”

The words hit me like a truck.

“I’m sorry, what?” I said my voice barely above a whisper.

“For two years now,” she continued, her words tumbling out in a rush. “He told me he was going to leave you. He said he loved me. I believed him.”

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

“Melissa, stop,” I said, shaking my head. “This can’t be true. You’re lying.”

“I wish I were,” she said, her eyes welling up again. “But I have proof. Texts. Photos. And… and I’m pregnant, Emma. A month ago, he promised he’d be there for me, for the baby.”

I staggered back, trying to process what she was saying. My stomach churned as the reality began to sink in.

“Pregnant?” I managed to choke out.

“Yes,” she said, her voice breaking. “And today, he told me that he won’t leave you or the kids. Instead, he offered me fifty thousand dollars to have the baby and give it up to a shelter.”

Women having a serious conversation | Source: Midjourney

Women having a serious conversation | Source: Midjourney

Andrew’s pounding on the door grew louder.

“She’s lying!” he shouted. “Don’t listen to her!”

Melissa flinched at the sound of his voice but pressed on. “I couldn’t stay silent after that. I couldn’t let him manipulate me anymore. You deserve to know who he really is.”

My knees gave way, and I sank onto the couch. My mind was racing, but every thought was like a jagged shard cutting deeper into me. This couldn’t be happening. Not Andrew. Not the man I had built my life with.

“Show me,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Woman reading a text on phone | Source: Midjourney

Woman reading a text on phone | Source: Midjourney

Melissa hesitated, then pulled out her phone. She opened a folder filled with photos and screenshots of texts. There he was — Andrew — smiling at her in selfies, sending her messages about how much he missed her, and promising her a future together.

My throat tightened as I scrolled through the damning evidence.

Behind the door, Andrew’s voice turned desperate. “Emma, please! Let me in! Let me explain!”

I stood up and walked to the door, my hands shaking. I didn’t open it but leaned against it, speaking through the wood.

“Andrew,” I said, my voice cold and steady, “is it true?”

There was a long pause. Then, in a voice that was barely a whisper, he said, “I can explain.”

Man knocking on the door | Source: Midjourney

Man knocking on the door | Source: Midjourney

That was all the confirmation I needed.

“You need to leave,” I said. “Now.”

“Emma, please! Let me —”

“Leave, Andrew!” I shouted, my anger finally boiling over. “If you don’t, I’m calling the cops.”

There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of his footsteps retreating.

Melissa was still standing in the living room, looking like a ghost.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again, her voice thick with emotion before leaving.

Woman having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

Woman having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

As the door clicked shut, a flood of memories rushed to the surface—moments I had once dismissed but now made chilling sense. The sudden, unexplained phone calls he’d step outside to take, saying, “It’s just business.”

Even the nights he came home smelling faintly of perfume, brushing it off a quick excuse, “The office is full of strong fragrances today.”

How had I ignored it all?

Sad woman | Source: Midjourney

Sad woman | Source: Midjourney

The weight of betrayal settled heavily on my chest. This was the man I had trusted with my heart, my life, my family. My hands shook as I dialed my lawyer, tears blurring my vision. It wasn’t just my marriage that had crumbled—it was the illusion of the life we had built together.

I had been so blind, and now, there was no going back.

Sad woman | Source: Midjourney

Sad woman | Source: Midjourney

The days after that fateful knock felt like walking through a storm. Andrew called constantly, left messages, and even showed up outside the house. He begged, pleaded, and tried to worm his way back into my good graces, but it was too late.

I’ll never forget the first time he showed up unannounced after I’d filed for divorce. It was a rainy evening, the kind where the sky felt heavy and everything seemed muted.

A person walking on the road on a rainy day | Source: Midjourney

A person walking on the road on a rainy day | Source: Midjourney

I had just tucked the kids into bed when the doorbell rang. Peering through the peephole, I saw him standing there, soaked to the bone, clutching a bouquet of wilted roses.

“Emma, please. Just hear me out,” he said as soon as I cracked the door open.

“There’s nothing to say, Andrew,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I made a mistake,” he said, his voice trembling. “I was stupid. Selfish. I don’t want to lose you or the kids. I’ll do anything to fix this.”

Guilty man regretting his actions | Source: Midjourney

Guilty man regretting his actions | Source: Midjourney

I stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind me so the kids wouldn’t hear.

“Anything? Andrew, you lied to me for two years. You cheated, manipulated, and betrayed me. You didn’t just hurt me — you jeopardized our entire family.”

“I know,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “But I can change. I swear I can. I’ll go to therapy. I’ll quit my job if that’s what it takes. Just… give me a chance, Emma. Please.”

A man begging his wife for forgiveness | Source: Midjourney

A man begging his wife for forgiveness | Source: Midjourney

I stared at him, the man I had once loved, and felt nothing but emptiness. His desperation might have moved me months ago, but now it was just too little, too late.

“Andrew,” I said quietly, “you didn’t just betray me. You destroyed the trust and respect this family was built on. You don’t come back from that.”

For a moment, he looked like he might argue, but then his shoulders slumped. “So that’s it?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Couple talking | Source: Midjourney

Couple talking | Source: Midjourney

“That’s it,” I said, walking back to the door.

“Emma,” he called after me, his voice breaking.

I turned around one last time. “The kids will always have a father. But I don’t have a husband anymore.”

And with that, I went inside and locked the door.

Stressed out woman leaning by the window | Source: Midjourney

Stressed out woman leaning by the window | Source: Midjourney

The days that followed were a blur of tears, anger, and endless legal meetings. My lawyer was ruthless, ensuring that I got a fair share of Andrew’s assets. Andrew fought back at first, but the evidence Melissa provided was undeniable. In the end, I was granted the house, full custody of the kids, and a hefty amount of alimony.

As for Andrew, he moved into a small apartment across town. We agreed on co-parenting so he still sees Mia and Ethan on weekends, but they’re starting to understand that their father isn’t the man they thought he was.

Man moving into a small appartment | Source: Midjourney

Man moving into a small appartment | Source: Midjourney

Melissa kept her distance after that day. I think she knew she had done enough damage by showing up at my door, but I didn’t hold it against her. In a way, she had freed me from a lie I had been living without even realizing it.

I’m still picking up the pieces of my life, but I’m stronger now. The betrayal cut deep, but it also taught me something invaluable: I deserve better.

Woman in deep thoughts | Source: Midjourney

Woman in deep thoughts | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another you might like: My neighbor exposed my husband and his best female friend at our home, only to reveal she was the one at fault.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided as “is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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