by Renda Ashley

Created on: June 30, 2008   Last Updated: August 06, 2008

When did I become "M'am?"
The first time the young man bagging my groceries at the grocery store called me that I turned to look behind me. Surely he wasn't talking to me! M'am was my English teacher, and she wasn't anywhere around! I finally realized he was talking to me. It was quite a shock because when I went to sleep the night before that I was a good looking young woman with taut skin. And no bags under my eyes, either! I was at least 50 pounds lighter and guys noticed me everywhere I went.

I used to pretend not to notice when guys stared at me. Now, I pretend not to notice that they aren't staring. I have become invisible. I am no longer a beauty that others notice walking by.

Right after my wonderful daughter was born I developed depression, migraines, a slow thyroid and asthma. All the medication I was on contributed to a significant weight gain. Loosing my looks has made me amazed at how much I depended on my looks. Not purposely, but being attractive gave me power. A power I miss. I see now how arrogant I was-how judgmental. When I ran into someone that was overweight but at one time had been skinny I would wander what had happened to her that allowed her to let herself go. I am ashamed of my self righteous, ignorant attitude. It's the attitude that only the inexperienced have the audacity to have. But I am repentant of it. Honest! Especially since I ran into a guy whom I thought had been my friend and he looked at me and said, "What happened to you?"
"Not nearly as much as has happened to you," I wanted to reply.
Although most people have enough social skills not to say something so hurtful, I know other people wonder it to. It's as if I have some kind of moral flaw and am not determined enough to stay young. When did we become so arrogant that we decided that we have the power to fight time and its affects?
A few years ago, I had to have surgery on my neck. When my little girl came into see me in the hospital after I was out of recovery, her big brown eyes betrayed the fear in which she felt. She tried to keep her chin up and be brave but I knew how she really felt. She saw IV's coming out of my arms and monitors hooked up to me. She looked like a little girl terrified of losing her mother. My son then came in, he too tried to be a brave little soldier, but he was one scared little boy. When my husband insisted on staying by my side through out the night I knew he was as scared as our children. In that moment I knew that my attractiveness was the last

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