I have an announcement.
Actually no, it’s not what you might think if you only looked at this picture.
I want to announce this:
I think, after carrying two children, I look more pregnant more often now, than when I was actually carrying them. I have more ‘fat days’. More days where my tummy just wants to shout out to the world that it carried two babies and refuses to be contained.
And some days I hate it. But then I realise I can breathe in, do some magic with my posture and I don’t look fat anymore. In fact I kinda look a bit thin.
And that feels embarrassing to say. Why am I embarrassed to say ‘yeah I look a bit skinny today’? Because I feel a fraud? No, not really. Because I’m definitely not ‘skinny’ but it’s not the falsehood that makes me embarrassed. It’s that I feel conceited.
But I only feel that because we’ve sort of been conditioned to think that skinny is good. Skinny is perfection. It is the ideal for which we should strive. And not many people like to walk around saying ‘I’m perfect’. ‘I’m ideal’. It just feels big headed.
But that’s not what we’re saying when we acknowledge we look a bit skinny. Because skinny isn’t the bloody be-all-and-end-all. There is no perfect. There is no ideal. Skinny, curvy (actually front on I’m way more curvy than skinny – but now I feel like I’m boasting about being Marilyn Monroe so you can see my problem here), pear- shaped, apple-shaped, hourglass-shaped. None of them are ‘ideal’.
I’ll tell you what is ideal. Owning it. Owning your body and loving it and respecting that it supports you and helps you move and function day in day out.
I am me-shaped. And, as is clear from my pictures, being me is all about perspective. I can dwell on the things which get me down (I totally do this sometimes – husband has used the word martyr a few times) or I can look for the positives. Today I choose the positives. I don’t do that everyday (see above for references to martyrdom) but today I do.
Because I’m not just talking about body image here. I’m talking about life. And, today, perspective tells me that I’m actually very freaking lucky.
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