If I didn’t know who she was,
I would be jealous of her.
I would think she had it all.
I would be envious of her perfect teeth
Her perfect eyebrows
Her athletic appearance
I would idealise her life
Assume she’d had it easy
I would wish I was her
Because she looks like she has it all together
She would have lots of cool friends
They would have so much fun together
I could hear her laughing with happiness
She is so carefree
She would be so popular
I would feel less of myself as I looked at her
I would feel fat
I would feel shame
I would feel insecure and invalid
I would feel old
I would feel failure
All my insecurities would emerge
What a shame her happiness means we feel less about ourselves?
We know nothing about her
We don’t know if she’s happy or faking it
We don’t know her life
We don’t know what is happening in this moment
We don’t know what she’s feeling
The only reason I don’t feel any of this when I look at the photo.
Is because I know her
I was there when that photo was taken
I saw her smile
I didn’t think she looked very slim
I thought she was a bit apprehensive
I knew she wasn’t happy with her appearance
I knew she worked hard for her luck
I knew she was like every other 34 year old woman with her own insecurities
I knew she didn’t think she was outstanding in any way
I knew this because she was me.
