The thing I remember most clearly about this photo is that I thought I really needed to lose another five pounds. Which seems ludicrous now. Seems, hell, is ludicrous. And I wonder if this is just nostalgia for a younger me. Or if it's something bigger. Like how most women are much too hard on themselves over their appearance. I try to be kinder to myself now, partly because I'm approaching sixty and I feel like angst over the size of my butt is wasted time and energy. But mostly because it doesn't matter if I'm carrying around an extra five pounds or so if I'm healthy and happy. And I am. I might as well ask if those sweat pants make my butt look big.
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