Two weeks ago one of our older sons was at home alone babysitting our two year old. Well at some point our older son fell asleep on the sofa, leaving the two year to his own devices. I came home to eight very full picture boxes, covering about twenty-five years,spread all over the floor. Nightmarish and it took me ten hours to sort them out (yes, the older has been duly dealt with).
The upside was to time to really go through and look at our years past (it helped me soften my mood toward my older son looking a his sweet baby face). Typically all those pictures of me that I had thought I had looked fat, ugly, etc. had miraculously changed. I kept thinking and saying, "I was so cute, why didn't anyone tell me?" To be fair my husband tried but I didn't hear him through my critical inner dialogue. This was also the first time I had really been through these pictures since my fat acceptance. Now what I thought was the most unfortunate was my clothes, especially after the birth of my first son when I first became truly "plus-sized". I had all this baggy, lumpy, generally unflattering clothing. Granted I think the selection has improved in fifteen years but I also think I better idea of how to dress my body, as well as a better idea of my own funky style (which truly came to light a few years ago when I realized with horror during one of my son's soccer practices I was dressed just like all the moms--ala What Not to Wear, only bigger). Now looking back at those pictures I'm no longer critical of myself I just wish I had the confidence to dress better.
It's renewed my resolve to dress in flattering clothes, or at least my fun and funky ones. No more hiding behind dumpy, lumpy sweats or patterned tents. I'm going to represent, not just for myself for all fat people. Does that mean I'm going to have it all together all the time? No way, but going wear what I want without shame or fear.