You have no doubt noted from various posts here and there that Herself -- like most women her age -- struggles a fair amount with body-image issues. She knows she'll never be a tall svelte creature like those that populate all of the (heavily-photoshopped) fashion magazines. She recognizes that she'll never again have the flat abdomen of her youth. She understands that the marks left by the three consecutive nine-pound Offspring will always remain, and that she can do nothing about the dozen surgical scars except be grateful that they're mostly small and faded. She will likely always be a few pounds heavier than she'd like to be. Such is life. It could be worse.
Still, it could be better, too. She wishes. Why? It should not matter. Yet you and I know that somehow, it does.
Even so, every now and then, she has a Good Day: a day on which she gets up and deliberately stands nude in the muted dawn before the full-length mirror that she normally carefully avoids, and looks, and thinks, "All things considered, maybe it's not so bad." She's not glamorous and she's not thin, but she is warm and pink and perhaps curved in certain places in a relatively acceptable manner. And that will do, for today.
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:)
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