“The most powerful thing anyone can say to us is what we say to ourselves.”— Christine D’Ercole
Sigh. Honestly, I did not want to get vulnerable this week in a blog post.
But here I am, exposing it all, peeling layers of my skin back again. It has been heavy on my heart so it’s time that I become more transparent about it.
The topic of my weight has always been an uncomfortable one for me. I have a long, deep-rooted history of not loving my body. As far as I can remember, I have always felt “fat.” Growing up, I was a chunky baby. So much so, that my nickname was Baby Huey. I remember at the age of 8, I asked my mother why my stomach wasn’t flat like Britney Spears (thank you, Hit Me Baby One More Time). When I was 10, I was clothes shopping with my father and was being extremely picky because I felt uncomfortable in my own skin and did not like how the clothes looked on my body. Out of frustration, he picked up a size 16 in Women’s and asked if I thought this would fit me. Please know that my father is an amazing one, but he is also very impatient and blunt. When I was 12 years old, I introduced myself to a diet and exercised after every meal (I know, unhealthy). When I was 14 years old, one of my aunts told me I should do more sit-ups because I have too many rolls…while sitting down?? Right. I could go on and one, so many examples.
I was always a curvier girl.
Always bigger than my friends. Always longing to be smaller. Throughout the years, my weight yo-yoed. I always seem to find myself right where I started- attempting to lose more weight or be more toned. And now, here I am at about 5 months postpartum, and I am the biggest I’ve ever been. What the hell was I complaining about before?!
Admittedly, I did not gain as much weight during my pregnancy as I thought. I was so sure that I would balloon like a blowfish. But no; I ended my pregnancy at a solid 27 lbs. The first few weeks of postpartum, the weight seemed to melt off easily. I was back down to my pre-pregnancy weight at 6 weeks postpartum. Then the holidays happened. For the past few months, I cannot seem to shake off the extra 8-10 lbs. that I carry. And I know what you are thinking, “You’re only about 10 lbs. away from your pre-pregnancy weight.” But after giving birth, my body is not quite the same. Nothing seems to sit how it used to if you know what I’m saying. I feel incredibly soft and squishy and honestly, unattractive. I yearn for my pre-pregnancy body. I try to eat right and go to the gym. Some weeks, I’m successful. Other weeks, not so much. Between working full-time from home in a demanding HR position while caring for my daughter, and blogging on the side, every minute of the day seems to be accounted for. I try to schedule as much me-time as possible, but I often find myself taking shortcuts to nurture myself.
Becoming a mother is such a beautiful experience but I would be lying if I said it doesn’t strip certain parts of yourself away.
You truly become a new version of yourself that appears unrecognizable at times. You are constantly trying to recalibrate, reacquaint, and reinvent, all at the same time. And after a long day, when you’re in the need of a shower and with baby spit up and drool all over your clothes, that is enough to make you feel unattractive. And then you take off your clothes to take a shower, pass by the mirror, and you wonder, will I ever feel like myself again? Will I ever look like myself again? It’s a difficult journey of emotions that require processing at various levels.
I am trying to be more kind to myself. I acknowledge that having this body as a woman is a gift. This body brought life into this world. It endured 9 months of morphing and stretching to become a cozy little home for a human that I was literally creating in my body. How amazing is that?
Some days I feel REALLY good in my own skin, so much that I think to myself, “Wow, I look amazing after having a child.” And then there are times when I want to avoid a mirror altogether. My quest for loving my body is a work in progress. I AM a work in progress. I am actively rewiring my self-image. I am raising a daughter who will unintentionally mimic my actions and reflect my perspectives and views. My daughter will learn about self-love based on examples of how I love myself. And because of this, it is necessary for me to learn to love my body again. I’m breaking generational curses, erasing past traumas, and creating a new cycle of love and acceptance, for her.
To all the women reading this, you are beautiful.
Whether big or small, still beautiful. That number on the scale is not a rating of your worth. To my mommas out there, you are still attractive and desirable. It’s okay if your body does not look the same. Let go of that pressure because I can almost guarantee that it is self-inflicted…I speak from experience. Sending love to you all ❤
Although this blog post is mostly geared towards women, gentleman, feel free to chime in! To all my readers, do you struggle with your self-image because of weight? What are some ways you combat these negative feelings? I would love to hear from you all!
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