Insecurities

They are something we all have.

I remember being at my great grandmothers house one summer and seeing a photo of an Aunt. The aunt looked totally different in that childhood photo than she did as an adult. Seeing that photo gave me hope. I hoped that because her looks totally changed from childhood to adulthood, that one day I might be pretty. I think I was 10.

I don't remember anyone ever telling me I was pretty. I wasn't a pretty child and I know that.  My cousin was pretty.  And skinny.  I remember her telling me that kids at school would ask her why she was so skinny and I was so fat.  She would tell them that I'm not fat, just big boned.  I think I was 7.

I don't really remember when I started to feel pretty...maybe I still don't? I often look back at photos and remember how insecure I felt at that time. I usually also think, damn...I wish I looked like that now.

Why can't we appreciate our beauty all the time?  Why do we only look back and think how pretty we were back then?  Back when we were younger/thinner/prettier.

I know what I need to do but the path is not always clear.