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Planning des lives

Phototherapy ...

#phototherapy #photo #health

... or how to learn to love your body.

 

(This blog post was translated with Google Traduction so it certainly can be improved. If you want to help me, please contact me and we will correct my texts together ;) )

 

As surprising as it may seem, I long thought I was ugly. Yes, let's not be afraid of words, ugly! Right!

 

 

Actually, as a teenager, I was very studious and I was not interested in boys. Finally so, like all girls, but obviously not enough to take care of my appearance in order to attract their looks. They had eyes only for my girlfriends then, so I had simply deduced that I did not attract anyone, without questioning me.

 

I did not put on make-up, I did not wear outfits that highlighted me, or rather I was persuaded that with my silhouette, none could ever go.

 

 

It is true, for a girl, I am carved in "V": broad shoulders, a small chest, a long bust, small hips, small buttocks, short legs. Like a boy in short!

 

And since the family is an excellent catalyst for complexes, I also believed that my hair was too thick, my thighs too big, my feet too wide ...

 

I was so complexed by my chest at the time, that I had even thought of having to put on breast implants as an adult!

 

And then, at 18, I met my first lover who posed a masculine and especially benevolent look on my body. I felt desire, and as he was very considerate, I finally felt a little more at ease in this body. Or at least he liked him. One did not turn more on me in the street but his desire sufficed me.

 

After him I met the man who was to become my husband, Giacomo. Passionate of photo, it quickly appreciated my curves and quickly wanted to immortalize them. Of course, like many women, I focused on my complexes and refused to photograph them. And yet, it was not for want of repeating that for him, I was the most beautiful!

 

And since he is not docile (he will be whipped), he took a picture of me without my knowledge, and as it is also a clever, it quickly erased those that did not show me. He showed me only the most flattering and I had to admit that I was very pleasantly surprised at the result.

 

The image I saw had nothing to do with the image I had constructed in my mind.

 

My hair looked beautiful, my silhouette was much thinner than I imagined, my thighs too ...

 

So I started to relax when he pointed his lens at me, and little by little I got hold of the game.

 

I have learned to love my body as it really was, and not distorted by little family teasing that has turned into unjustified obsessions, or the prism of today's society.

 

It is true, my silhouette does not correspond to the standards conveyed in the media, I am not big, I do not have a big chest, nor a very marked size. But she likes it, not to everyone, but to me especially.

 

And most of all, I know that the most beautiful pictures are those where I smile then I am convinced now: a woman who smiles is a beautiful woman!

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