Between carrying two kids, my body is not the way it once was.
I have struggled with my weight and body image most of my life. Like many women, I tend to have a complex when it comes to the number on the scale. This obsession can be a hard one to break. We tie so much of our self-worth up in this number.
Then, the mirror can be another enemy as it shows us the chunk, the grays, and the wrinkles. It can be hard to accept ourselves for how we are and the changes that come with having kids and growing older.
It all started with puberty (doesn't it usually?).
Middle school is hard enough, and when you add in a changing body, it can be challenging for girls to adapt. We often gain some weight in these years, and it can be difficult. I also developed polycystic ovary syndrome in my 20s, which made it difficult at first to have kids. It also made it hard to lose weight, and I deal with the effects of this to this day. It is a constant battle, and losing the baby weight is even more complicated.
When you have kids, your body changes again, and there is a long period where your body is no longer just your own.
You are a home for nine-plus months. Your body prioritizes these babies and focuses on their nourishment. If you breastfeed, your body works hard for another person. You are their sustenance and their comfort. No one can replace you. Being their mama is something extraordinary. You let them borrow your body to survive. You grew them and cared for them before bringing them into the world.
Rearranging your organs to house another human is no small feat.
Your body did something amazing, and while it was changed by it, it still deserves some props for it. Women’s bodies are awesome and strong. When I feel myself judging how I look, I try to keep things in perspective.
Instead of obsessing over my body, I try to shift my focus and take note of how my kids see me.
They really don’t care what I look like. They care that I’m there for them. That I give hugs and that they can pet my soft skin and lay on my soft belly. To them, my softness is not a flaw but a comfy pillow. It reminds me of how my stomach was once their home. Of how my body transformed some cells into a complete human being.
When they are little, and even as they grow, your kids look up to you.
There is no one like you in their lives, nor will there ever be. I make sure to tell my daughter how strong girls are, how we can do something that boys can’t do. I make sure to keep any negative thoughts I have about my body to myself and tell her not just how pretty she is but how smart and kind as well.
I try to keep my language in check so she can avoid body image issues for as long as possible. Maybe if I chase the negative thoughts away with the positive ones, I can see myself the way my kids see me, and wouldn’t that be best for us all?
