Found Again

While thinking to myself today, "Hum, that might be a good thing to put in a blog post...if I had a blog", I came to the sudden realization that I had in fact started a blog. Like many good ideas started in earnest but lacking a certain consistency in my life, this blog fell to the wayside. That was not my intention of course when starting this, but it took me over a year later to realize I had abandoned this project. Now that it is found again, I should put it back to use.

Something most interesting is how much time can change perspective. Just a quick read through of some of the previous posts gave me a small glimpse of my life that was not necessarily forgotten, but definitely different from my thoughts and feelings now. Maybe not different in the sense of totally opposite, but different as in not the same. Again, that's time for you.


Now, as to the thoughts instigating the rediscovery of my old blog: wedding dresses. Oh, I know, but I am a girl. ;)
While browsing wedding dresses, I came across three I wanted to share with someone and talk about. So I emailed some links to my mother.

Dress #1
Dress #2
Dress #3
(Don't look at these, Potato!!!!)

After she got the links, we talked on the phone. I asked her which one she liked best. She said Dress #2. Now, I like all of these, otherwise I wouldn't have sent these links, so it's not like it was a guessing game. I asked her reason. Summed up, she liked it because it would cover me more. It hides more of my fat. Oh, she said it kinder than that, but when I asked, "What's wrong with Dress #1/#3?", she ho-humed and said something like, "Look how tiny that girl's arms are!" silently but effectivly reminding me of the flabby arm curse passed down the generations.

Now when looking at wedding dresses online, I'm far from fitting into the model's size of dress. Honestly though, princess seamed dresses like #1 and #3 have always flattered me. On my wedding day, I'm not looking to hide away and cover up. I want to feel beautiful in what I'm wearing.

It wasn't till hours later when thinking about my mother's comments that I realized what an attack on my body image they were. Oh, she didn't mean her comments as an attack; those type of comments have become commonplace between us. When I was living with my parents a year ago, I would have never questioned what my mom had suggested or implied about myself in dress #1 or #3, but time, experience, life, has changed my perespective, my reality. Maybe it means I won't hold my mother's opinion as high as I have in the past, but I'm still glad I sought it.