Jennifer Carpenter dreams of being a different person - A person with confidence, a person with beauty, a person who weighs a heck of a lot less.
At twenty seven, her world falls apart. She’s out of work, her mother has died, her estranged brother is in a coma and, despite good qualifications, each and every job interview ends in another rejection. Marked by the teasing, taunts, and fat jokes that defined her childhood, Jennifer blames her current lack of success on her ever growing waist band.
In need of a change, Jennifer puts her dream of ‘skinny’ above all else. Obsessed with this mission, she devotes her life to becoming the ideal version of herself even if it means becoming alienated from the only people who love her. Determined to lose the weight she believes is ruining her life, Jennifer finds herself in danger of losing so much more.
Charlene Carr is an ardent lover of words. A voracious reader, when she needed punishment as a child her parents took her books away. These punishments were blessings in disguise - with nothing to read, she created her own stories.
Currently, Charlene is focusing exclusively on novel writing and loving every minute of it ... well, almost every minute. There are days when her characters fight to have the story their way! (And they're almost always right.)
Charlene lives in St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada and loves exploring the amazing coastline of her harbour town, dancing up a storm, and using her husband as a guinea pig for the healthy, yummy recipes she creates!
We exist in a society that so often judges people by their outward appearance. Never have humans lived in a world with more widespread pressure to conform to society's version of the ideal woman or has the female form been under such scrutiny.
As a result, many women, myself included, judge themselves by the reflection they see in the mirror, and letting that image shape their identity.
We are more than our physical forms, more than the weight we carry or the 'flaws' we perceive. We are not our bodies. We are so much more.
I can’t even guess how long it’s been since I’ve looked at myself naked in the mirror—most likely years. Heck, it’s probably been years upon years upon years. I’ve seen glimpses here and there, of course, but I haven’t looked. I open my eyes and grit my teeth. This is me. I stare a moment longer. The reflection cuts off slightly past my navel so I grab a stool, pull it over, then step up so there’s more of my figure in the glass. This is me. I close my eyes then open them again. This is me. These rolls, this dimpled skin, this disproportioned body, all the stretch marks is … No. I take a deep breath. This isn’t me. This is the fat that surrounds me.