it’s funny how in the moment you criticize yourself so heavily, but when you look back on yourself and reminisce everything looks so carefree. all of those decisions. all of those friends. all of those nights out, those dates, those outfits you’d never imagine you’d wear. effortless.
looking back is bittersweet. to see the times you were oozing confidence and didn’t even realize it. when it all started to feel hard, was it really? or was it just in comparison to the effortless life i was living.
now. now it’s one thing after another to distance myself from the young woman in those pictures. first it’s a broken bone. then it’s the weight. then it’s your hair, with smooth bald patches that you try desperately to cover up as you start your new job. then it’s more weight. who was that girl? that drink and eat whatever she wanted girl. the no birth control, i’m good, girl. the girl who had panic attacks just the same, but outwardly was just so young and fun.
i don’t recognize myself anymore. and that’s damn hard. i’m in the best relationship of my life with someone who loves me so very dearly, but he never knew that girl. he never knew how pretty she could be, with her long, thick hair and that curvy body. i want to show him. how do i reset? how do i break the cycle? will he ever meet her? i’m not sure; but i’m also not sure he wants to meet her anyways.
and as i pack for a weekend away with friends, i hope there are not pictures taken. i hope i can hide behind things. i hope the new bathing suit i nearly cried while buying covers all of the stretch marks that weren’t there a year ago. i hope i can portray the confidence i used to ooze so generously. i hope i can find it within.
