It’s a funny thing. We never manage to see ourselves how others see us. I see a flat boring lumpy blob of a woman. Others tell me they see a beautiful caring, creative soul who is a wonderful friend. I’d like to see that person…one day.
Flipping through the pictures on my phone, I see it.
My first reaction is shock. Who took this hideous picture of me?
Self-loathing and disgust swell up and threaten to bring me to tears.
Just as I am about to hit delete, my boy walks in the room.
“Do you know anything about this picture?” I ask him.
I turn the screen so he can see it. He smiles huge.
“I took that of you in Tahoe,” he says. “You looked so beautiful laying there. I couldn’t help it mom.”
“You need to ask me before using my phone to take pictures,” I say.
“I know,” he says. “But mom, seriously, look how pretty you look?”
I look at the picture again and try to see what he sees.
My daughter walks over and takes a look.
“That could be a postcard mom,” she says smiling. “You’re so beautiful. I…
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