What the F do I do about the old photos.

A lot on my mind. It feels like it’s at capacity at the moment.

I’ll start with this.

J and I were flipping through my Facebook together looking at my old pictures. He has never seen me in my natural hair color (Blonde). In the process of strolling down Heather’s memory lane we stumble on things that are … well… awkward.

Pictures of me on my wedding day. For the record I looked like a happy pretty princess that day.I had a tiara and big curly hair. Pearl necklace, big fluffy gown and I was radiant. He stopped, he said:

Wow, you looked beautiful

And then I saw it set in. I was glowing and happy to be marrying another man. That was me, but in another life. He was uncomfortable, visibly.


So I told him. If my little guy ever wants to see those, I want to have them still. I don’t sit and pine and yearn for those days. I don’t even like looking at them. But they were my life and I cannot just erase them, since my little boy was a product of that life.

He told me about how its different with his past, he can erase it all and not look back.

He told me when he was a child it felt painful to see his parents together in photos.

So what am I to do? I want to be me, unapologetically. All my parts, all my bits however hard and uncomfortable. All those things are who I am. Did I love another man? Yes. Did I think he was my “ride or die” forever person. Yes.

But that chapter is closed. It’s still a part of me. Just closed.

It just really sparked me and my already cloudy hectic brain. J doesn’t deserve the exposure to all that. But he did choose me. And he knew what he signed up for. I am not some typical girl you meet, I am carrying an entire life with me. It’s heavy and complicated. It’s not easy.




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