My Body was my Enemy.
My Body was my Enemy.
It took me a while to see it as anything else.
I struggled with my weight through my childhood. I struggled with my weight through high school. I struggled with my weight, my body – everything about it for as long as I can remember. Which is sad because when I look back at photos where I felt like a whale I’m nothing even close. Those around me, the media surrounding me, everything around me told me I was though.
When I would look at my body growing up it was easy to spot what I thought were imperfections. I had teeth that weren’t straight while my friends were getting braces. I had a lot arm hair that people would point out and make fun of. I wasn’t as skinny as my siblings, I must have something wrong with me. I didn’t feel like I could comfortably wear a bathing suit until a few years ago. I would feel like I had to hide my stomach while at the pool with camp. I couldn’t pull off crop tops like my friends could.
“Those around me, the media surrounding me, everything around me told me I wasn’t right.”
I carried a lot of burden through the years about the size and shape of my body. The year or two before I went through my first pregnancy I did lose a lot of weight. I finally felt happy with my tiny body. Which realistically had been achieved through too much work and not enough eating. But people told me I looked great. They gave me congrats on my new, skinny body. So I kept with it.
I think that’s one of the reasons I struggled so hard with my first postpartum body. I had inflated past what I ever expected and then some. Nothing fit and because of the way my c-section made me heal it was hard to find things that did fit. I didn’t want to leave the house because it was summer and I was ashamed of how I looked. I kept getting asked when I would lose the baby weight, when my old body would be back. It broke me.
This time around I’m being kinder to myself. Reminding myself of everything this body has achieved. This body is still my old body, it’s just taken a new temporary shape. I’m letting it heal. Letting it’s focus be feeding my babies. Focusing on my mental health instead.
Be kind to yourself. Every single body is a beautiful body. Think of everything in this life your body has allowed you to accomplish. Tell society to go fuck itself if it tells you you aren’t perfect.