Growing up, there were only two things I NEVER wanted to be:
- A single mom.
Now, I’m both.
I remember my first experience with body dysmorphia.
I was in 5th grade. What I didn’t realize then was that the other girls were not as feminine in their bodies as me. They hadn’t started their periods yet. The weren’t wearing bras.
The only thing I was aware of was that when I sat next to them, my thighs spread out much more than theirs on the chair.
I remember detesting my chunky flesh.
I began to sit with my feet on my tip-toes so as to make my thighs look slimmer.
Such began a life-time of contorting my body in uncomfortable ways to ensure that it looked attractive and presentable to others.
It was around the same time that I became aware that the other kids had moms who played tennis at the local country club. They wore short tennis skirts and they looked good.
My mom was bigger. She would never wear a tennis skirt. Thus began a time of being embarrassed of my own mom.
Many years later I would learn, with the help of an integrative medicine nurse, and through DNA tests, that I have a surplus of feminine hormones. I matured before other women, I was always soft, plump, feminine, curvy + full breasted with large thighs and a big butt.
Turns out that like the I Love Lucy sketch where they can’t keep up with the chocolates on the conveyor belt, my body would continue to produce large amounts of feminine hormones and my body wouldn’t be able to keep up. Thus, its only option was to store fat.
When my mom was young she was slim, too.
The only time I’ve ever seen her in a skirt was in a photograph taken of her not too long before she got pregnant with me. She had long, blond hair, thin, tan legs + gorgeous blue eyes. She was stunning.
She always told me that she gained too much weight when she was pregnant with me and then she could never lose it. When I became pregnant, and began to eat constantly, she warned me not to gain too much weight.
Haughtily, I ignored her advice. Didn’t she know I wasn’t her + wouldn’t turn out like her?
Being pregnant was one of the first times in my life that I felt like I could freely eat as much as I wanted.
It was also the first time I didn’t have to hold my stomach in. I loved it!
Sitting in the practitioners office postpartum and officially obese, I found out some of what must have plagued my mom, too. You see, in the DNA tests we learned that my liver doesn’t clear toxins as well as others…so it also stores as fat. It’s something that’s genetic too, so its likely that my mom experienced that weight gain that wouldn’t budge from a similar trait in her DNA.
Now, I’m forty and I weigh 185 pounds.
Pre-Sophia I weighed 150. That was an all time high, not my normal 130 that I weighed since high school (where I was 115!) but it was decent. I still looked good in a bathing suit + could wear my favorite jeans!
9 months pregnant with Sophia I weighed 190. That means that coming on three years later, I’ve only lost 5 lbs since giving birth!
At first, everyone said I’d lose the weight from nursing. That didn’t happen.
Then they said sometimes you lose the weight once you’re done nursing. Right. Great. Nope.
So, I’m happy to have the support of an incredible nurse practitioner who has me on a whole bunch of supplements + vitamins.
I have more energy and feel better, but I’m still 185.
Lately, I’ve been grieving over my smaller self. I see old pictures + I can’t believe that my youth, and my slim body is gone! (Oh! Those small boobies!)
I’ve recently found the Betty Rocker. She’s so inspiring + I’m starting to work out at home. She’s over 40 + makes me think that just maybe, I could have the strongest body I’ve ever had in my over forty years. Maybe.
Now listen, I KNOW that it’s best to ACCEPT what IS.
I’m all about spiritual truths, be here now, the present moment. I get it. (Easier said than done.)
I’m open to accepting my body at whatever size. I’m willing to love myself + I work on it every day in small ways.
Even if nothing ever changes, I get that I’m worthy of love and that I’m beautiful inside + out, even if I’m clinically obese.
However, I don’t want to be. I want to feel confident + slim. I want to be healthy.
I want to wear a bikini and swim in Hawaii and try new things + be excited about my body + my life!
I want Sophia to grow up with a healthy mom who SHOWS she loves herself by eating really well + working out.
Being a mom makes you stronger.
I’ve been through some emotional highs and lows + traversed a lot of drama since having a child. I know I’m strong inside.
Now, I’m ready to access my inner-badass + have her be visible outwardly, too!
I hesitate to share my story. What if I fail? What if I don’t make it? I don’t want you to judge me, or shame me, or worse yet, feel sorry for me!
However, I need you to know what I’m up to! Together, we’re more powerful. And, being fat isn’t exactly something that’s easy to hide. And, I know I’m not alone.
There’s so much shame around our bodies as women.
We’re programmed from birth to be a certain way- look pretty, be nice, serve others.
It’s challenging to feel confident + to love ourselves unconditionally, yet, it’s the thing that cures all ills.
So, it’s true. I’m a single mom. And I’m obese. Oh well. (What we resist persists!)
I don’t like to go places because I don’t want people to see how much I’ve changed.
I’m not the thin, pretty girl people used to know. But ya know what I am? I’m infinite spirit and everlasting love packaged up in some softness. And no matter what, above all else, I’ll do my best to love myself as I am, and teach Sophia to love herself too, no. matter. what.
And do I miss this girl? Well, not really. She was cute, but she had no idea about real love + birthing humans. And that shit changes you for the better!
Thank you for being here and reading my words.
All my love,
P.S. Can you relate? I’d love to hear from you! Have you made big changes in your physique or in accepting changes as you age? Leave a comment, and check back, as I always reply!