It was a great reminder to me of what's really important. It should come as no shock to anyone that I am not happy with my current weight. I haven't been happy with my weight for going on about 10 years now. Probably longer. And, if you want to split hairs, I haven't been happy with my body for as long as I've been aware of it, so almost 30 years.
I'm exhausted. I'm tired of thinking about it. I'm tired of wondering "who's that fat girl wearing my shirt?" every time I look at a picture of myself. Have I mentioned the trauma sustained from one of the pictures from the Disney trip in 2010 (about 10 pounds AGO) where I was in the background, bent over rummaging in our backpack, and spent about 3 minutes trying to figure out who the fat girl was that was going through our stuff before realizing it was me? Yeah. Not my finest day.
But I digress.
Thanks to that article, I have come to realize that my extreme self-consciousness, and thus, my extreme avoidance of all things in front of the camera, is really stupid. Are my children going to look back at our 2012 photobook and think, "Man, mom was really huge"? I don't think so. If anything, they'll look through and wonder, "Why isn't mom in so many of these pictures?" Harper (because she's a girl, Garrett won't realize) will know it's because I hated having my picture taken because I thought I was fat. And that actually makes me sad.
I haven't gained any weight in about 6 months, my longest stretch in years. Now, I haven't lost any either, but at least the steady climb has stopped. And, my thyroid levels seem to have all stabilized. So maybe I'll close 2013 a little lighter than I am now. But maybe I won't. And I have to be ok with documenting 2013 no matter how much I weigh. In front of the camera. And not with the children strategically placed in front of me to cover the fat rolls. Rolls that only I will obsess over in the picture.
Case in point. This is a picture that Candy took as part of our fall family photo shoot. I have almost deleted it every time I look through the pictures. I mean, really, look at my stomach. Can you say spare tire? But look at Harper. I love her sweet little expression in this picture. I love how my hands (big, fat sausages that they are) completely cover her little tiny hands. There will be a day not so far from now where I won't be able to cover her hands with mine. Will she look at this picture and even notice my stomach? Will Jason look at this picture and see anything but the two ladies he loves most in his life? Probably not.
This is me, for better or worse. This is me and my beloved daughter on a sunny, somewhat windy November day in 2012. And that's all that matters.
1 comment:
I know it's hard to believe, but honestly, I scanned down to the picture before finishing reading what you wrote. I immediately focused on two beautiful girls with gorgeous smiles. I went back and finished reading what you wrote...THEN...went and looked at the rest of the picture. I feel like we are always our biggest critics. I do the exact same thing about pictures of myself. Hate almost all of them. But you're right - I will miss not having pictures of me and my children in the future because of some silly insecurity. For the record I have always and will always think you are so beautiful...AND wear the cutest clothes! :)
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