Photographs can lie

and don"t we always look about 5lbs fatter .

I agree, its so weird that you don't notice at the time - thankfully I was blessed with wonderful happy loving parents, but my ex H was very controlling and tried to isolate me from my family - looking back at photos now, there is always a gap between him, and the family...

I thought my children had had a perfect childhood, but they tell me all they remember is the bad feeling between me and their dad [I thought we kept it under wraps pretty well]. The look in my eyes in my daughters graduation photo shows the depths of despair I was in having realised my husband had resumed an affair which he'd promised to end. I find looking at photos painful these days, especially those of our holidays in Cornwall. My grandchildren don't have seaside holidays just a few days out. This is beyond my comprehension as I feel that young children need a couple of weeks playing on the beach and delving into rock pools looking for crabs and shrimps.

I meant to add, I agree, some photos can be painful at best, disturbing at other times.

Oh Mishap, your childhood memories sound so familiar. No photos to look at though (Thankfully) as Father took very few and to be quite honest he was not a fan of anyone being happy, we spent most of our childhoods (two siblings) being shushed and told to 'go away and play'
However, I do remember seeing some snaps of my darling Mum when, unknowingly to me, she was in the early stages of her quick decline from bowel cancer. MY husband was taking some snaps of the grandchildren and she was in shot (she hated photos). Months later, I can remember looking at them and thinking how frail she already appeared and why had I not seen it and realised the significance.
We do seem to develop 'rose tinted specs' for those we love - probably some sort of defence mechanism to keep ourselves sane.
Dreary memories, and I try not to dwell on them.

Mishap sometimes photographs don't lie. My parents had a bitter divorce when the three of us were 4, 5, and 6 years old. (I'm the middle child, so I was 5). In the photos of us with my "father", there we are all in our Sunday best, scrubbed and beautifully dressed (in the photo I am thinking of, my sister and I are wearing matching smocked dresses) - my body language as I try to avoid my dad putting his arm around me is very interesting.

In earlier photographs, when my parents were not yet married, my dad appears to be totally besotted with my mother, arms around her waist as he stands behind her. It was all fake as he had endless affairs which continued once they were married.