It’s beautiful.

I know that model shots are always more appreciated, though I’ll have you know that I’m feeling very puffy today.

And it seems ironic to resort to photographing a gorgeous silk stole in a bathroom, but it’s what I can do.

And the grand finale…

Nothing like taking a bunch of pictures of myself to make me want to drink more water and exercise again.

Back when I was thin and thought I was fat, I hated my face. My cheeks, specifically. When I smile, they puff up huge and push my eyes into little slits. I thought I had the fattest face ever. Then, back when Lindsay Lohan was a new and upcoming star, I saw her picture on a magazine and it said something about her desirable “apple” cheeks. I looked at them for a long time, amazed that they looked exactly like my cheeks, and here they were, being talked about as if they were a physical feature to envy. I was incredulous, not arguing that she looked great in the photo, and then I realized something.

Anything can be beautiful. Everything is beautiful. It’s all a matter of context and attitude.

Ok, this is turning out to be a very long, only mildly coherent post about body issues.

Nate and I were talking last night about clothing design, and dressing to flatter different body types, and how difficult it is to buy clothes “off the rack” when your body isn’t.

As a teenager, I was between 150 and 155 pounds, a D cup, and 5’9. I thought I was a cow. It’s true that I wasn’t a ribby teen. I hadn’t been “skinny” since I started developing at age 10. I was voluptuous. I was curvy. I was gorgeous and had no freaking idea.

I couldn’t find clothes that fit me outside of jeans and t-shirts, and the t-shirts looked bad because they all had small, round necks. Small necked shirts don’t flatter a large chest but at the time, I couldn’t recognize why I looked bad, just that I did. I tried sewing for myself, but those didn’t fit right, either. I learned a decade later that sewing patterns are written for B cups, and have to be altered.

It would have been really nice to know that as a 17 year old.

So in the end, I bought all of my clothes in the Tiger Shop, which is a teenage boys clothing store. Once I gained weight, I had no idea where to buy clothes. But that’s a different story.

One of my daughters is developing a physical feature that she may come to view like I saw my cheeks. She may hate it. A lot of people do. I think she’s lovely, as are other women with the same feature that know how to use it. (I’m only being cryptic in case one of my daughters reads this. I have no desire to give them body issues. As of now, they’re blissfully unaware).

Anyway, my journey through obesity has been a tremendous learning experience. I’ve grown as an individual, looked deeper into myself to find worth and value, and discovered an entirely new ideal behind the term “beautiful”.

This being said, I continue to think I’ve learned enough and want to be thin again, now that I can actually appreciate it and respect my body for what it is instead of wanting what I can never possibly be.

In high school, it was my 6 foot tall, huge-haired redheaded friend that had a thin, boyish figure and weighed 130 pounds. She was gorgeous, too. But I will never, ever be that. And I don’t have to be.

It is so freeing to know that.