I hold onto things for years, obviously even for decades. I decided it was time to go through my closet and more than a decades worth of clothes, and Lily had a blast because some of those clothes were small enough sizes for her to wear. She's been dressing fancy at school these last two weeks and loving it.
It's been eye opening for so many reasons. I have had a huge problem with body image most of my life and never realized when I was thin that I wasn't fat. And when I was fat, just how fat. Several years ago, I literally said fuck it and removed any full length mirrors. If my mind was going to distort the image anyway, why look? Of course, that means sometimes I go out in outfits that, um, would have benefited from a preview. Oh well.
So I was looking through old photos to see if there were any images of me in the outfits Lily got, because I realized, if she's wearing them and she's not an ounce overweight, then I must not have been fat then. Never mind now. I know I'm overweight now, but I am thirty pounds plus lighter since the fall semester began. Yay diabetes meds!
This is from 2005. Wow. I was so gray and so not heavy.
And this is a year later (2006), my weight slowly going back up, but...
Here is my Lily in the same outfit nearly seven years later.
Ah, we've all grown. And changed.
And there are parts of that growth and change,
not just in the kids, but in me,
that are bittersweet.
One thing is true.
I am comfortable in my skin,
in my body,
with who I am,
and that is a blessing
my children gave me,
helped me realize.
It also should be acknowledged
that my husband, who I have loved
for twenty-five years now,
started that growth, that acceptance,
that comfort I feel in being me.
Whatever my hair color may be.