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The original was posted on /r/twoxchromosomes by /u/Any_Stranger1975 on 2023-09-02 03:36:20.

I used to be hyper fixated on my elbows because my mom was obese. I’m Very Fat now compared to when I thought my elbows first started looking fat, and they’re still nothing I even notice these days.

In your teens, you worry about collarbones, boobs, and elbows. Early 20s, thighs and overall shape.

Mid 20s, looking “youthful” and “fit”.

Late 20s, skin damage and being “healthy to avoid damage” can’t believe you worried about your elbows, now you look back and wish you were in more photos.

30s, trying to look like mid 20s.

40s. Trying to keep up with others, potentially “fix” a baby body. Pressure to have a good career, clean home, and good kids, and a good marriage. Can’t believe you used to think you were ugly in your early 20s

50s, a lot of women wished they appreciated themselves in their 30s. Maybe a divorce. Kids getting older. Friends move and change. Do I look middle-aged? Maybe I should get a facelift, hair extensions and dye to get rid of these gray hairs.

60s… “Am I too old to look good in makeup and colourful clothes?”

70s… I wish I enjoyed each step of the way and appreciated my body for the experiences it gave, people who loved me instead of the way it looked.

80s… wish I had the mobility I had in my 60s. Why did I spend so much of my life hating myself? Why did I spend so many years worried about how clean my home was. Why didn’t I dress the way I wanted? My loved ones love me. They always have. Regardless of all the things I tried to fix. I wish I spent more time in the present.

Edit: my 88 year old grandma shared this with me. She was focused on her skin tone as a teen. I’m fortunate to not have gone through the famines she went through. I adjusted it to be more relevant to me / us, today.

My adoptive mom, who was my bio aunty, died at 43 from cancer. Diagnosed one day, gone mere weeks later. I don’t remember her for her career or her appearance or home. I remember the way she lit up a room. Her laugh. Her kindness. Her realness. Her drive. Her confidence. Her loving, caring attitude to us. Her cooking. Her hugs. Her love of animals. Her love of people.

My grandma, her mother, was venting. I found it inspiring. And very true. I felt like sharing it.