When I was a young, and firm, girl of 15 I used to see women walking down the street with a folded over belly and I used to feel sorry for them. I actually felt benevolent in my ability to sympathize with them. I thought to myself how great I was for not making fun of their belly but feeling sorry for it instead. It wasnt until after the birth of my second child, when my stomach skin was stretched past the point of no return, that I was humbled by the understanding of just how violent my sympathy was. Inadvertently and ignorantly I had judged them to be inferior; somehow needing my benevolent sympathy. I was rewarded with the same exact belly I had judged them as pitiful for having. Lesson learned. ;)
Posted on: Wed, 12 Nov 2014 04:21:53 +0000
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