A Quote by Denise Bidot

My mom struggled with her weight so much growing up. I watched her go from a size 2 to a size 22. I just kept seeing her try all these unhealthy ways to lose weight and struggle to be something she wasn't meant to be. I knew early on that I wasn't willing to compromise that way.
Seeing my mother struggle with her weight confused me: I looked at her and thought she was beautiful, she was my mom. And this woman, who I looked up to everyday, couldn't see her own beauty?
I think that no woman has to defend her body, and she should just live her truth. It should never be about the number size of her pants, and it should be about what you're doing in the world. What does her brain look like and not her hip size.
I once had a long relationship with a lady, and wherever I went in the world, if I saw something she would look great in, a gown or gloves or a ring, I always knew what color she liked most. I knew her size, what material she appreciated most, and I spent the whole time buying gifts for her. And I loved her very much.
I've known Carolyn [Maloney] for years, by the way. I knew her when she was on the City Council and knew her when she was - when she was running, and we endorsed her very early when she ran for Congress, yet I didn't know some of the stories in here of herself and her struggle, and - and she makes a very - you know, it's - it pulls your heart as well as - but it's very practical.
My mom was the only one who didn't bleach her skin. She was the one who kept her natural complexion. So yes, I consider her a role model. All of her other family members would say to us, 'Oh, your mom is so beautiful. She's lucky she kept her skin.' Those comments stayed with me.
Growing up, it was just me and my mom. I watched her struggle for 17 years, and when I was 19, I got a chance to pay off all of her debt after two paychecks. That's a crazy feeling.
My mom was a house mom when we were growing up, and that's all I knew about her. I had a really big disconnect with her because she only spoke Chinese. Her English isn't good at all. Being a typical second-generation, you have the basic stuff, but I never had a deep conversation with her.
A woman will not understand what true dependency is until she is cradling her own infant in her arms; nor will she likely achieve the self-confidence she craves until she has withstood, and transcended, the weight of responsibility a family places upon her -- a weight that makes all the paperwork and assignments of her in-basket seem feather-light.
My mom struggled for a long time growing up poor, and then we were on welfare when I was a kid. So to see her kids, not just me, be successful and making money and happy and healthy and in good relationships - it means so much to her after all that she's been through.
It's interesting when people make comments about celebrities' weight gain or lack of weight gain as if they're a medical professional that's treating that celebrity. Like, 'This doctor does not treat Jessica Simpson, but thinks her weight is unhealthy.' If you don't treat her, then how do you know?
She didn't want to disrupt her family. She didn't want to lose her family; she didn't want to hurt her children. She struggled. It was a lifelong struggle for her, being in Bruce Jenner's body.
She would tell him what she wanted in her life--her hopes and dreams for the future--and he would listen intently and then promise to make it all come true. And the way he said it made her believe him, and she knew how much he meant to her.
They'd had fun, for sure. They laughed and enjoyed being together. But if she was painfully honest with herself, something was missing. Something in the way Tim looked at her. She remembered her mom's word. "I saw the way he looked at you...he adores you." Maybe that was it. Tim looked at her on a surface level. He smiled and seemed happy to see her. But When Cody looked at her, there were no layers left, nothing her didn't reveal, nothing he couldn't see. He didn't really look at her so much as he looked into her. To the deepest, most real places in her heart and soul.
There are no words for how much I will miss her, but I try to kiss her so that she'll know. I try to kiss her to tell her the whole story of my love, the way I dreamed of her when she was dead, the way that every other girl seemed like a mirror that showed me her face. The way my skin ached for her. The way that kissing her made me feel like I was drowning and like I was being saved all at the same time. I hope she can taste all that, bittersweet, on my tongue.
Kim Kardashian was the first time I've seen a woman tormented about her weight gain while having a baby. But at least she asks for that attention by voluntarily obsessing over her weight publicly on her social media. But now nobody is safe.
When I was growing up my mom was home. She wanted to go to work, but she waited. She was educated as a teacher. The minute my youngest sister went to school full-time, from first grade, mom went back to work. But she balanced her life. She chose teaching, which enabled her to leave at the same time we left, and come home pretty much the same time we came home. She knew how to balance.
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