Being Pretty

*277*

I used to be pretty. Now I am not talking shit about myself in a depressive, oh woe is me kinda way. I am being honest. I used to be a pretty girl. I thought I looked like dog shit. I thought I was always fat even though I was painfully thin at some points (having no car and having to walk everywhere did that).  Some of us age wonderfully, others do not. I have been told that I look younger than I am. That I could not possibly have a 22 year old kid. Oh, look..you dont have any wrinkles or age spots.
 I do not see what they see, and half the time I think they are blowing smoke up my ass.  I have two things going for me. Genetics and Fat. Fat does not wrinkle and the women in my family age gracefully. I am thankful for that.
Why am I talking about this?
When I gained all the extra extra weight from the back surgery and quitting smoking..none of my clothing fit me, except for like one pair of pants and a few t-shirts. I refused to buy new clothing! NOPE! So I walked around like a fat, homeless person. That is an oxymoron.
One day I went to the Salvation Army and saw how I could buy really nice clothes for practically nothing and my attitude changed. After 22 years of being a Mother on this Earth, I decided that it was time for ME to look good. I always sacrificed for the kids and looked like hell doing it. Not anymore.
So I have been dressing nicer. My bum around clothes are actually nicer then my nice clothes back before I started doing this. I decided that I did not care what size I was..I was not going to be afraid of color or being ostentatious.  If I liked it and it fit me (and it wasn't too fucking young for me)..I was gonna wear it!
I go to the hairdresser. I have been taking better care of my skin.
But I am still fat. I still look in that mirror and I am fatty fatty 2 by 4. Now, I have accomplished a few things since this started. I am not afraid of the bathtub anymore. I can put my shoes. I can paint my toenails. I can fit behind the fridge door. These things were what drove me to lose some weight and inches. But I want to be pretty.
I know I cannot make magic happen..this was the face I was born with and my nose just keeps growing. Don`t you hate that, by the way? As your age, your nose and your ears continue to grow. I have my Mother`s nose. My Mother stares back at me from the mirror sometimes. Yup.
Yeah, this may read like I am making fun of myself but no, it is not.
I am just mad at myself for assuming I was an ugly ass all those years when I really was`nt. And now it is too late.