My oldest daughter made me realize I had to stop talking about body image with words like fat and skinny and use the word healthy instead. Still that didn't change my own self image. My second daughter is making me do that. Every single day she looks more like me. From her scrunchy medium sized nose, big cheeks that make her eyes squint when she smiles, to her slightly pushed back jawline, to her squishy arms and sturdy legs to her perfect little oddly shaped toes. She is my mini-me and she is so beautiful. She is one of the prettiest girls in the whole world. She lights up a room and makes my heart swell when she smiles. The way she looks at me a grins when people tell her she looks like her mama. How proud she is to look like me. Like me, the woman who picks herself apart until there is nothing worthwhile left. Who until recently had to fight back tears when some took her picture. Who makes noises of disgust when she looks in the mirror. If I am saying how unattractive I am, how I don't like how I look and think I am not worthwhile what am I telling her? What will she start to hear when people tell her she looks like me? She needs to hear that her mom is beautiful and she is beautiful. So that's it, I just have to be beautiful. Wish me luck figuring that one out!!
Thursday, September 19, 2013
It's no secret I struggle with confidence. When people tell me I am beautiful I feel embarrassed like they are saying it out of pity or something. I have to find it in my myself, but not just for myself. I gave birth to four of the best looking kids in the world. Two boys and two girls.
Monday, September 2, 2013
I find it so fascinating the steps that happen in a bad break up. Usually the worst break ups were once intense, passionate relationships. When things went bad, they went very bad, and you find yourself hating the other person with as much passion as you once loved them. Then one day, it all stops. The feelings end. You just don't even care anymore. That person could stand in front of you pushing all the buttons they have worn out over the years. It won't work though, those buttons are finally broken. For moment, you are sad that it doesn't hurt because at least you felt something for them, as odd as it sounds. This is your starting point. Now you realize you get to choose how you feel, how you react to life is no longer side tracked by a button pusher. Every once in awhile, if your button pusher is very dedicated they will find one that if pushed hard enough will still work. Acknowledge it hurts, move on and realize that button pusher is just an ass. At least in my experience.