I want to look like THAT

Sometimes it catches me off guard. I catch a quick glimpse from a photo of a former, slimmer self. I look longingly at that smaller person, wishing I wasn’t that person hovering between “normal” and plus sized. And it leaves me sad. Wanting. Guilty.

And I’m sure we all do it. We look at pictures of ourselves: before crows feet and wrinkles. Maybe when we had perfect complexion or a smaller waist or youth was on our side. Maybe it’s a picture in a bikini with no stretch marks (that picture of me only exists as a 5 year old). And we want that person back. And we spend money on potions and creams and diet plans to try and get that back. We make ourselves feel all kinds of guilty and worthless for not meeting our own crazy expectations.

Or worse yet, the picture we envy is not even one of our self. It is of someone from a completely different gene pool with a lifestyle that bears no semblance of our own.

Case in point: right before we got our dog we were watching Marley and Me. At one point in the movie I literally thought “I’m getting a dog, why don’t I have legs like Jennifer Aniston?” Seriously.

We say to ourselves “I want to look like THAT…”

The other day I was looking through old photos to find one of a friend who was very ill. I remembered a picture of her and I that I loved and I wanted to find it to remind me to pray for her. As I searched for the photo I came across two from a few summers ago where I was goofing around with my niece and nephew. I looked anything put together and was at a larger size, but we were having so much fun. My size and lack of any primping didn’t matter. The joy of the moment did. There was another photo of my nephew ready for the plunge on the log ride, screaming our heads off. And I smiled.

I want to look like THAT.

I want to take pictures not because I happen to look good that day, but because it is a moment that I want to remember for the rest of my life. I want to capture the smiles on our faces, the silliness of the moment. I want to stop being obsessed about my size and focus on living a full life whether the tag in my jeans says 6 or 16. Because at the end of my life, my family and friends won’t stand by my coffin and reminisce about the times I was thin or when my makeup and outfit were perfect. I want them to remember a person who was confident enough in herself to be willing to look silly, get messy, and even get dressed up and fancy when the occasion is right.

I want to look like THAT.