As promised

Yes, I did find a bunch of QB photos that I had taken that I had completely forgotten about until I discovered them just a few days ago!  Here are two of him at the tender age of four weeks–with me:

1 mo old

And here he is at all of 19 days:

4x6 QB 19 days #3

4x6 QB 19 days

Teensy, isn’t he?  I’ve cropped the photo, because I wanted you to see him better, but I think the reason I hid the photo (from everyone including myself) was that it showed my figure, and I thought I looked too fat.  Aw, man!  On close look, I was about five, more likely ten pounds less than I weigh now, totally acceptable according to Weight Watchers.

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Dear Readers, I am about to show you something I could never have shown you when the photo was current, in 2005.  Perhaps it is because of the anonymity of online life that makes showing you this photo feel “safe” right now.  Perhaps it’s the distance that I feel between the time I took the photo and now.  Or the progress I’ve made.

I would not let anyone else take this photo.

Here it is:

Scroll down…

Scroll down…

Scroll down…

and down…

downer

and downer

way down

fat for blogNo, I wasn’t sticking my stomach out.  I was holding it in.  Desperately holding in everything, hiding from everyone.  I weighed close to 200 pounds.  I squeezed into a size 22.

Now do you believe me?

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Yesterday I was on the phone with my mother, and decided to take a chance, a big chance, by telling her I went clothes shopping.  The idea was to get her to contribute some $$$$$ for clothes for my teaching experience (yes, I got the job!) but our conversation turned sour.  I said, “Mom, I was pleased that I fit into a smaller size!”

She replied, “Yes, well, they make the sizes larger these days.”

I used to think that I developed an eating disorder because my sixth grade teacher once told me I was fat.  But look at what I had to live with at home from day one!

I wore a size 10 to the job interview, which went off very well, by the way.  It’s a volunteer teaching position for my school teaching practicum.  I can’t tell you much about it because of the nature of the place and issues pertaining to confidentiality, but I will periodically share a writing exercise.

I told my brother what my mother said and he wasn’t the least bit surprised.   Then why do I come back, time after time, seeking her approval?  Why do I endlessly wish for her to someday say to me, “Julie, you did a good job and I’m proud of you.”

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I did a damn good job at my semester at school and I’m proud of myself.  I’m doing a damn good job at losing weight and I’m proud of myself.  I’m doing a damn good job raising Puzzle and I’m proud of her and myself.  I did a damn good job at that interview and got my reward.

And now I’m tired.  Good night.

One thought on “As promised”

  1. You’ve come a long way baby! You are a size 10!!! Went down 12 sizes! Awesome! Great year at school!!!! And a job!!!You don’t need your Mom’s approval, you know what you are made of and do it for you! WE ARE proud of you and YOU DID GREAT!!!

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