It's Her, All Over

I never wanted to be like my mother.  I never wanted to be her.  But somehow, subconsciously, I think I've become a lot like her.

I have some of her temperment, some of her ailments and problems.

I even look a LOT like her.

I never wanted to look like her.

She was always overweight, except when she got much older.

My mother was heavy set.  Now I'm heavyset.

My arms.  I used to be so afraid of having sagging skin under my upper arms.  Now I have it, but my arms look like hers did when she was very strong.  Arms, big and strong.

A belly.  Fat around the middle.

I am fat around the middle, but I am told I at least, "have a figure."

Meaning:  one can still determine the top from the waist to the bottom.

The truth is, I have always been more comfortable with the heavier set in my life.

I subconsciously sought out friends who are overweight.

My mother, my aunts, they were all pretty much overweight.  I am overweight.

But I don't mind it like I used to. 

There are prettier clothes out there for bigger women now than there used to be. 

I'm comfortable with myself.

I look at myself in the mirror and see my mom.

I also see my grandmother's fine wrinkles on my face and arms.

I see the varicose veins on my legs, like mom.

I see the very fine wrinkles on my neck and upper chest like all of the above, and

I think of them all:

Aunt E., Aunt G., Aunt M., Grandma, and mom.

They are all gone now, but I still see them in myself.