My mother died two years ago, which set off a whole redefining process for me. I believe she had an eating disorder, and I began to wonder what that had done to me. I took a deeper look at how I was around food. It didn’t feel appropriate to punish myself anymore. Until then, whenever I looked in the mirror, there was a voice that was telling me I was never good enough. It was this constant "if only"-if only I lost weight, if only I ate differently. After she died, that slowly began to change. Now when I look in a mirror, I hear the critical voice and I decide not to listen. But I’m still struggling with this; I’m not saying I have it aced. I had my first child eight years ago, when I was 32. I gained 80 pounds and had a traumatic cesarean. Before I knew it, I was pregnant again, and afterward I didn’t feel like myself. I wasn’t earning money outside the home, and there didn’t seem to be time for me or the gym. Now I have time to take care of this amazing body that has produced two children. After the photo shoot, when I saw an image of my backside on the computer screen, I must have groaned, but the photographer said, "Look at the beauty of it." That took me out of myself. I thought, It’s just flesh and curves. I could see the beauty. I’m trying to develop the part of me that is generous and kind. My body is the result of being at peace around food and moving in a nourishing way. This is part of the process of accepting where I am. I don’t expect to look how I did in my twenties.

Growing up, I saw my breasts as a problem. They were a lot bigger than my friends’, but not perky, and I hated when the guys at school would make comments. I was always trying to disguise them; I would cower over so they wouldn’t look so big. I never wore tight clothes. I thought of doing a reduction, but there was too much involved in the procedure. My boobs have been a big hang-up all my life, but now that I am about to turn 40, I want to finally get over it. I want to be able to look back on this year and know that I’ve been brave enough to do something I wouldn’t have done before. My husband loves me for who I am, and I don’t want my two daughters to feel they have to be perfect or hide themselves. I wish I were smaller, but I’m not going to hold a grudge against my breasts anymore. They’re here to stay. At the photo shoot, I forgot I didn’t have any clothes on. I wasn’t looking at myself in the mirror, so I lost my inhibitions. I love the images; the photographer made me look beautiful. I’ve never seen myself in that light before. I don’t want anyone to see pictures of me in a bikini, but this is so different, I’d be happy for anyone to see it. I’m always going to have a hang-up with my body; that’s just me. I still wish my boobs were more uplifted, but I am happy with who I am. I’m getting to the age where whatever happens, I want to feel I’ve done everything I can and not held myself back. I want to make other women aware that we don’t have to hide. We all have different body shapes and issues. I’m proud that I did this, and hopefully my grandchildren will see it and be proud, too.

I’ve weighed anywhere between 140 and 250 pounds over the course of my adult life. I had a rough moment when the scale hit 200, but I still felt better about myself than at other times because my husband told me how much he loved my body. He never said anything negative about my size. He made me feel beautiful and sexy, and that gave me a lot of confidence. That ended when he died two years ago, when I was 44. After that I needed time to heal emotionally before I could concentrate on anything physical. But I finally started thinking I want to feel better about myself and my body. I see photos of myself, and I’m immediately repelled by them. When I see larger women, they look great, but I don’t see that when I look at myself. I spend a lot of time counting the number of chins I have in photos. I’m figuring out what my new life is. I don’t want being a widow to define me. I wanted to do this photo shoot as the first step in my reintroduction to the world. I’ve lost a frame of reference for what other people see and think. I want to see the new me through other people’s eyes. I need to find out the pieces that make up the new Liz. I was stunned when I saw the photo. My first thought was that I look like an alabaster sculpture. I had never appreciated how many curves I have. I looked at the image as an architectural form. The shapes and lines were amazing. It was interesting to look at it as pure geometry. There were some shots that brought home that I have a few more curves than I’d like, but there were others that I thought were beautiful and had a sexy roundness. It boosted my confidence to have the photographer and More editors appreciate my curves for their artistic form and interest. Maybe I needed the external validation, hearing other people say "How fabulous," for me to appreciate it. This is a big step on the way to my reinvention.