Seeing the Pretty for the First Time.

I turned 30 this past July.

I've had many years to look at myself in the mirror.  To scrutinize my looks.  To judge my weight.
Many years to develop a poor self image.

I've been called names.
JG drop out was my favorite.  The brilliant high school boy who called me this actually meant it as Jenny Craig drop out.  When I pointed out to him that 'Craig' starts with C and not G he stopped calling me the name.  Oh High School boys.

There have been more names than that.  Names that helped me to build a wall.
Names and looks that have helped me to develop a negative self image.

It's the story of the overweight girl.
Some become super funny (not me). Most know how to deflect with sarcasm (me, me, that's me!).
All of us have some sort of wall built up.  We know what it is to go shopping with our skinny best friend - because that's what happens - and not actually purchase anything because we go into the skinny stores with her and don't want to drag her into our part of the store.

I've spent years faking that I feel ok with myself.
Trying to impress myself.  Trying to impress others.

I've lost weight.
I've gained it back.

I've accepted that I am a big girl.  Though, I'll work at maintaining my weight/loosing some of what I've gained back because I admit I felt better when I had lost those 30 pounds.

I've never thought that I was pretty.  Not because I was never told.  My mother has always told me how pretty/beautiful I am.  I've had friends express it.  I've had boyfriends say it.  But in my heart, I hadn't truly believed it.
This is a sad thing to admit.

The other day I caught a glimpse of my reflection in my car window.  It was my eyes that I really looked at.
And for the first time in my 30 years on this earth I actually thought: I am pretty.

I hope that I can continue to feel this.
To recognize this.

I hope that it doesn't take another 30 years for me to realize that I am beautiful.