Shots out to Aunt Lee

Here is a hideous photograph of me that was taken by a professional "photographer" at work recently. I say "professional" because hi, could I look more tense and ill at ease? Isn't it part of your job to get a relaxed and friendly looking picture out of your subject, even a recalcitrant and uncomfortable one such as myself? Regardless, this morning I was just wishing that someone at work would just freaking tell me how skinny I am getting, even though I know that is superficial and bad and lame and I must love myself blah blah blah, I just wanted to hear it, ok? I wanted someone to just give in and say "damn, girl, you sure are skinny now!" Was that too much to ask? Perhaps, but just as I was wishing this clearly futile wish someone awesome told me that she could really tell I was running alot more. I translated this in my head to "Damn, girl, you sure are looking skinny." and I was happy. And then when this larger than life pic of me was projected across the whiteboard in an all staff conference, for the first time, in, uh, forever, I thought, wow, I'm skinny now. I might not be hot, I might look pissed off and uncomfortable, but I do not have to feel ashamed, in this moment, of being fat. It was really, um, amazing. I felt free.