Bridgette White, a stay-at-home mother of two, recently posted this to her blog [Bridgette Tales](http://bridgettetales.com/2014/07/14/exposed-by-my-children-for-what-i-really-look-like/) after finding a photo of herself taken by one of her children.
“”” Flipping through the pictures on my phone, I see it. My first reaction is shock. Who took this hideous picture of me? Self-loathing and disgust swell up and threaten to bring me to tears. Just as I am about to hit delete, my boy walks in the room. “Do you know anything about this picture?” I ask him. I turn the screen so he can see it. He smiles huge. “I took that of you in Tahoe,” he says. “You looked so beautiful laying there. I couldn’t help it mom.” “You need to ask me before using my phone to take pictures,” I say. “I know,” he says. “But mom, seriously, look how pretty you look?” I look at the picture again and try to see what he sees. My daughter walks over and takes a look. “That could be a postcard mom,” she says smiling. “You’re so beautiful. I love it.” I take a deep breath. This is exactly what I needed. My default mode is to see and focus on the flaws and imperfections. I’m starting to see a bit more. I still see my dimply, fat thighs. I also see a mom collapsed on the shore that just explored the lake for hours with her children. I still see chubby arms. I also see the arms of a mom that just helped her kids across the rocks and hot sand so their feet wouldn’t hurt. I still see a fat woman wearing a black dress bathing suit to try to hide her weight issue. I also see an adventurous mom that loves her children something fierce. Like many women, I have struggled with my weight most of my life. It’s not something that will ever go away for me. I don’t have a naturally slim body. Never have. Right now I’m the heaviest I’ve been in 10 years. Yet… I have not let my weight stop me this time. I am wearing tank tops, sundresses and bathing suits in public. I’m running around playing with my kids this summer and I sometimes even feel attractive. Yes. You heard me. “I feel pretty. Oh so pretty. I feel pretty, and witty and bright.” Well…not exactly. But something like that. Is it because I’m getting older? Is it that I have more to worry about than just how I look? Or maybe it’s because my kids look at me with such adoring eyes. Really, it doesn’t matter. I don’t hate my body anymore. That’s huge for me to admit and hard to even wrap my mind around. I’m not giving up on exercising and getting healthy. Those are things I will continue to strive for because I want to be around awhile. Right now though, I just want to love my body where it is. I want it to be OK to see myself the way my kids do. Thank you kids. “””