I took this picture a while ago and although I love it, I could never find the right words.
I still don’t have them but I don’t care, because today is all about self-love. I’m awesome, who wouldn’t want me sat looking at them like this? Fools!
I think it’s easy in the situation we find ourselves in at the moment to feel a bit down in the dumps and this can often make us feel negative about ourselves. I tried to take some new pictures yesterday and hated them all, I couldn’t find one picture that I would have been happy to share; no amount of editing would have even helped.
I know my body hasn’t really changed and this negative view of myself is a knock on effect of life in its current form. This morning I scrolled back through old photos to remind myself I look better than those few snaps made me feel and I came across this picture. At the time I didn’t use it, I probably decided there was something about it I didn’t like but with different eyes this morning, I love it, I love me in it.
I’ll keep yesterdays pictures for a while, maybe in a couple of months time I’ll be able to look back and find the beauty in them too.
Dee was my mum but my god was she so much more than that, she was the matriarch of our family. When my grandad died and my nan fell to pieces the mantel went to my mum and she led our family through the next 30 years with a strength and sensibility I can only wish to find.
My aunt, the younger of her two sisters, and I often talk on the phone and we have in some ways become each others Dee replacement. In times of adversity we will both talk about how we wish we could call her for advice but we are pretty good at doing the job without her now, a credit to her that she still lives on in the women in our family. My daughter never got to know my mum but as she is growing up I see so many of those qualities emerging in her too.
The urge to talk to her had probably never been as strong as this time a year ago when my marriage was breaking down. In all honesty I did talk to her frequently, in my lowest and loneliest hours it was still her I turned to and it was in her that I found my way through. No she couldn’t answer me directly but she had given me the tools to find the answers I needed. Any time I am unsure I can ask myself, what would Dee do? And I know the answer will be there.
I’ve written about my mum a few times and although I didn’t know it at the time, I wrote this post only a couple of weeks before she passed away. It includes a brief history of her life that I was asked to write when she went into a care home. Over recent years I have frequently returned to the idea of expanding on her story, a couple of sides of A4 was never going to do her justice. Of course this is the one time I can’t rely on mum to give me a kick, the modest wonder that she was so perhaps isolation will give me that kick instead.