It's time for proof. Real. Hard. Proof.
Because I once was pretty hot stuff.
I was 21 here. The Husband, who at the time was till The Boyfriend, and I were on Mackinac Island on our first weekend getaway about six months into our relationship. Look at me rockin' the "How demure am I?" pose.
And by the way, don't get all excited about the beaut-e-ous hair. In an effort for full disclosure (and total lack of giving a damn, anyway) this was the result of finally learning about the secret black women have been using forever to hide and blend nappier-than-hell hair. It's a weave, girlfriend. I just hopped on the bandwagon a little late because my Mexican relatives had no idea how to handle my "what are you, anyway?" tresses.
Note to self: must blog about the fact that The Boyfriend couldn't figure out the weird bumps (tracks) near my scalp and was greatly relieved to learn I didn't have a horribly misshapen head when I finally came clean about the fake hair.
In 2002, I said "I do." I was 24, in charge of my own hair (read: goodbye weave), and feeling pretty in my wedding dress. My sisters and I said "Cheese" for the camera before we trekked off to church and I became Mrs. The Husband.
Look! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a waistline!
Me on the Honeymoon in Niagara Falls. This is honestly what I'm dreaming of waking up looking like one day. Curvy, toned, and smiling. And yes, The Husband bought me that little bear.
My brother-in-law got married in 2004. And no, it did not end happily ever after. Then again, neither did my relationship with the scale. My curves are already softer. At the time, I figured this was bad. Really, really bad. Nothing like hindsight to put things in perspective when it comes to the size of one's ass, is there?
Note to self #2: Must blog about the pressed curls and The Husband's brutal honesty. Trust me on this.
Aside from the ponytail explosion, I think I look pretty damned good in this photo. It was October of 2006 and The Husband and I were on Mackinac Island for a vacation with BFF Mel and her other half, BFF Bob. I was 25 pounds down from my heaviest (at the time) and happy at 200 lbs. With just 15 more pounds to get to my wedding weight, I learned I was pregnant the day after we got home from our trip. Oh, the irony.
Five and a half months pregnant here with Buttercup in 2007 and very happy with how I was looking. I still had an hourglass and from behind, no one knew I was pregnant. The Husband liked to point out that because my DD's were still bigger than the baby belly, it was easier for me to be mistaken for just eating too much at lunch.
Yes, I look like hell. And yes, it's also the day I was admitted to the hospital for crazy dangerous blood pressure levels. I gained 20 pounds in the last 6 weeks and boom...Buttercup was born at 37 weeks.
Bff Mel, me, and Buttercup a year later at the birthday bash. I have traded in my maternity clothes for a newer wardrobe from Lane Bryant. Basically the same shit, minus the elastic waist band.
March 2009. My sisters and I had just arrived at my new home in Arizona. Yes, I have a waistline. But it's grown to match the proportions of my still-too-big hips and ass.
It's December 2009. Don't we look cute? Well, from this angle all is good. Then we see the next photo...
...and my double chin just blows it right out of the water. Let's focus on Buttercup, shall we?
And there ya have it, folks.
Words can blur reality. But photos tell the truth no matter how much you may have managed to convince yourself that the MILF card in your wallet hasn't expired yet.