Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Those times when I didn’t fit in, when a summer spent at the beach with friends was out of the question because of the body that I was ashamed of, this is where I was shipped off to.
Or when the thought of a winter skiing in Vail or the Alps was even more depressing because I was terrified of looking like a big fool on those wieldy things that always seemed to do the opposite of what I wanted.
My parents had shipped me off here for both summer and winter holiday until my fourteenth year, when I grew old enough to fend for myself with just the help of one nanny, a housekeeper and a complete household staff.
It wasn’t as bad as it sounds. I treasured those times. Hidden away here with my elderly aunt, who didn’t seem to mind that I wasn’t the ideal teenager with the perfect body. Who wasn’t into boys and makeup and all the things that made a girl a girl, apparently.
Now as an adult who still carries a little extra weight, loves to eat and chose baking as my profession, this little hidden gem is the perfect place for me to carry on living out my fantasy life.
Hidden away amidst the flowers and greenery that clings to everything, and far enough away from the hustle and bustle of big city life and all the pressures that come with that.
No one knows me here, it’s like getting a brand new start free of charge. And if there’re any judgments being passed, I haven’t noticed so far. In fact, the people here seem to be the same as I remember them. Like the years in between had never been.
They don’t seem to see or care that I’m not the perfect ten when it comes to body and beauty. And the friends I’d made here as a child were still around, and with very little surprise, we’ve picked up where we left off almost ten years ago.
It was because of them, Stacy, Allie, and Rebecca, that the move hasn’t seemed as frightening as it could’ve been. Still, at twenty-three it was a big risk to take.
Graduating college and moving into my own place in the space of two months was like being caught up in a whirlwind and I was still getting my bearings.
So far everyone I’ve dealt with here, the movers, contractors, the guys who came out to turn on my utilities and the staff at the local market where I’d be spending most of my time, have been nothing but kind.
It felt great to be in a place where people weren’t so hung up on size and didn’t treat me like a pariah every time I put something I liked in my mouth.
The girls are all still skinny or damn near there. Allie has become a gym rat, going at least once a day every day, but somehow with them I feel like I can still be myself. They don’t care what I eat or how much of it I stuff in my face. And I have yet to see any disapproving side eye looks being passed around between them.
Unlike in the city, where the competition and drive to be perfect is almost as strong as the need to succeed academically. I can’t count how many young girls I knew growing up and then again in college, who’d harmed themselves all in the name of staying thin. Some hadn’t been so lucky.
I brushed off those thoughts which usually only lead to more depressing thoughts and instead concentrated on what I had lined up for the day. The home my aunt had left me, though unexpected, had come just in time. Almost like a gift from above.
After graduation one of my biggest worries had been where I was going to open up my bakeshop. Real Estate in New York is beyond ridiculous and I was looking at hundreds of thousands of dollars in loans, something I was not looking forward to.
I could’ve asked my dad, who would’ve gladly helped out no doubt. But his help usually came with a nice side helping of guilt and grief that lasted way longer than the debt, once my stepmom got wind of it. No thanks.
I’d been lucky enough to get a free ride to culinary school after deciding that that’s what I wanted. Even the year and a half I’d spent in Paris learning from the best had been part of my scholarship, which was already a huge blessing so I shouldn’t complain.
I guess my stepbrother Wayne was right when he said I had a special angel looking out for me. Not that I would’ve wished for Aunt Nell’s death, but the reality is that she’d died and left me this beautiful place that was more than perfect for just what I had in mind.