- and not just anyone, but someone I have been trying earnestly to impress -
thinks I am overweight.
She thinks I am fat.
And do you know what thought came to me,
once the rage inside me had subsided and the tears had stopped and my heart was beating normally again and my hands weren't clenched in little fists ready to punch this "someone" square between the eyes?
I thought: thank you to my Mother.
Not that I blame my Mother for my heavy-set frame, as some girls do.
Not that my Mother passed down "big bone" genes ...
Or that somehow my plus size curves are a flaw or blessing to be attributed to her.
No. Not that kind of thank you.
Thank you to my Mother ... for loving unconditionally.
For being the kind of Mom to whom I was always beautiful;
even when I was chubby
even when I had a double-chin
even when my hair was a messy, uncontrollable frizz ball
even when my teeth were crooked and I was too chicken to get braces
even when other little girls may have been prettier than I.
I always knew I was beautiful to her. I never doubted that.
Thank you to my Mother ...
for continuously telling me that I was - and am - perfect.
For telling me that she is proud of the weight I have lost,
but mostly proud of the character I have developed.
For raising me to believe & know that there is more than meets the eye.
Thank you to my Mother ...
