Covering The Curves

For the majority of my formative years, and for quite a long time beyond that, I went through life a shy, self-conscious girl – frequently frowning upon my appearance, glancing at my reflection with contempt, tugging at my clothing to keep it from revealing too much. I couldn’t bear to see the slightest inclination of excess body fat on my figure. A ripple here, a roll there, made me feel awkward and unattractive.  

According to my mother, when I was quite young my pediatrician informed her that she should probably avoid feeding me “too many potatoes.” It was as though I had been born with some unknown propensity to become overweight, despite the fact that no one in my family was obese. Someone, somewhere, must have carried the gene and passed it on to me. To this day, I’m still not sure who that culprit is… 

Needless to say, as I entered into puberty (at an absurdly early age – which requires an entirely separate blog posting to properly describe) I became self-conscious about my physical development: my weight, my bosom, my child-bearing hips. I attempted to hide the female body that had been bestowed upon me by dressing in loose-fitting shirts that not only hid any signs of cleavage but also covered up any evidence of having hips. My entire mid-section became an embarrassment to me; covering it up helped to maintain some semblance of  self-esteem, although not completely, and certainly not for prolonged periods of time.

What was I thinking… ?

There I was, a vibrant, beautiful young woman with a winning smile and really great assets. And yet, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I simply couldn’t see beyond that extra, unwanted flesh. 

The sad part, the tragedy of it all, is that it took me 30 years to overcome such inclinations to hide myself.  Looking back on these photos from younger days, I’m amazed and saddened at my insistence to cover the curves. I was thinner back then than I am now! And yet, for decades, I couldn’t find the capacity to appreciate my ultra-feminine body.  

Now, I shall forever proclaim, “Peel away the layers of cloaking fabric and be liberated!”

Having come to that pivotal midway-point in life that everyone eventually reaches, I find myself  at a crossroads where I can either A.) embrace myself where I’m at or B.) invest in belly tucks and face-lifts. Personally, I choose to embrace myself where I’m at ~ curves, bosom, hips et al.

After all… rhinoplasty is really quite out of my budget…