Persephone: Parent

A fine site

What A Photo Holds

on February 12, 2016

I try not to have too many regrets. I try not to have any actually. I live by the fact that whatever I did made me who I am. There are certain things that, with hindsight, I could have handled better or differently, but I can’t change that and don’t regret how I actually did it. That probably makes very little sense. I’ve recently been sorting through my photo albums. As part of my decluttering process, I’ve decided to cut down on the number of old school photo albums that I have (especially as I am now making a photo book each year). I’m cutting down by making a few scrapbooks (a friend bought me a lovely pink, friends orientated scrapbook about 4/5 years ago and I am going to make it!) and new photo frames for the walls. Then I decided to clear out and throw away any involving people that are no longer in my life.

About 3 years ago, just before I gave birth to Elvis, I cut a relatively good friend out of my life. In fact, according to TimeHop it was three years ago today. Her lifestyle and how she chose to live would always bring me down and I decided that I didn’t need that negativity in my life. So, I decided that I didn’t need those photos in my albums. Please note that I have an electronic copy of every single photo from my Mother’s Aunt down through to my own. Then there was the best friend who I lost/she left over a decade and a half ago. I don’t need those photos. If I’m decluttering and want fewer things, then what’s the point in keeping them? Perhaps I could put them in a box, but that would just be thrown out in a few years. Oh, then there were the photos of some people that I used to work with and barely ever speak with since I moved away. And the family members that we’re no longer in contact with. To be fair, when I finish compiling my scrap books and photo frames, even family and friends that I still love and cherish will be facing having their photos being thrown away.

Who looks in photo albums?

Through looking through these albums (probably fully starting in 2007), I nicely, positively reminisced about those that are no longer part of my life. The friend that I cut out of my life a year ago today, I enjoyed looking at our photos. I enjoyed thinking about what our friendship had once been and didn’t really think about the sadness that ended our friendship. However I still agreed with my decisions on all of those people that are now in the recycling bin.

My regret that I noticed whilst looking at all of these old photos dating back a decade-ish, is completely vain. I used to always think that I was fat. Always. I had a stomach. I had no boobs. I had a podgy little tummy. Well, according to some of these photos, when I was wearing the right thing, I did not have a stomach at all. And I regret never seeing my body clearly enough. Because now I definitely have a tummy (two babies later!), in fact I had the tummy in 2012, just before getting pregnant with Elvis and after my laparoscopy surgery. In some of these photos, I think I’m kinda, well, hot. I had a nice figure. Not amazing. But nice. Nicer than how I ever felt.

And I wish that it’d never brought me down. I would kill for that figure now (kill cookies by eating them because I still have little will power). I will never get back to that figure. I know that. But, hopefully, I will like myself, my size and my body much more than I ever did.

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