I shared in the post, Ode to my Body, of my lifelong struggle with body image. Over the last two months many of these demons have been haunting me and I'm coming out of some very hard weeks. I just feel like its important to share hard things too.
When Miles hit the nine month mark it was like an alarm went off in my head, as if I had expired or something. He had now been out of my body as long as he had grown inside me and for some reason when I looked down at myself I had not magically returned in that time to my former self, it made me panic. So after an exhausting and crippling morning I had in December where I physically could not dress myself I knew I needed to do something. I was crying in my room with my entire closet scattered on our floor and everything threw on felt heavy, you know what I mean?
I let the darkness creep in, and it won.
I sobbed to Greg telling him no one could see me like this.
Over dramatic and irrational? Yes. But in the moment oh so real.
Even writing these things in retrospect feel like "what was I thinking" but in muck and the deep deep dark all logic ceases to exist.
I ended up at church (very late) but only made it to the cafe. I ran into a sister who hugged me tight and let me verbally unload. She listened. She did not try to fix me or even rationalize my crazy she just let me set down the emotional baggage I no longer wanted to carry.
Nothing earth shattering was concluded in that talk but I needed it.
Later that afternoon she sent me a text:
"I love you I love you I love you. I hope your day turned around. If you need help cleaning up your room, let me know. On your good days and bad days you're loved just the same!"
She was willing to come clean up all the clothes on my floor so I wouldn't have to face it alone. Something about that made me weep.
I decided I would have to be very practical in facing this all. I would have to make attainable goals so the failures wouldn't set me further back. I wish I could tell you it happened over night, that I woke up and loved myself. I wish I could tell you I'm "better", but I am not. I am just fighting. It may seem small but fighting means I'm not giving up and that's a really big deal.
So here's my simple game plan and my advice to you-
stop comparing:
"comparison is the thief of joy" I know it, I've written it, read it, meditated on it but why is it still SO hard. I'm telling you now you have to stop. It eats you in a quiet sick overtaking kind of way. I'm friends with beautiful ladies, from faces to souls. Most of us have had babies but I look at them and wonder where I went wrong. Why was I not keeping up. I started to believe if I only had a gym membership, if I only had those cute rain boots, if my baby only had that expensive baby gear I would feel whole again. Its a lie, things and activities are not worth defining. There's a treadmill in your basement, use it.
stop wearing maternity clothes:
stop wearing maternity clothes:
stop buying them and stop wearing them. I am not pregnant right now. I know they are stretchy and big in all the right places which makes me feel good but it is not helping my brain so stop.
start wearing things I feel good in:
I realized I stopped wearing or buying anything I liked or even looked good on me. I wore things with a sole purpose: can I nurse in this? Function took precedence over any kind of feel good and clothes were merely worn on a scale of how discretely and efficiently I could feed my child in public.
So because my sweet husband is amazingly supportive he said I could get some new clothes. On our tiny budget I needed him to reassure me about 7 times it was okay and I bought four things I felt like myself in. Four. I needed to take all the stress out of getting ready. I needed to be able to mindlessly take things out of the closet and put them on knowing I will like them. If you happen to see me twice in one week and wonder why I am wearing the same thing, try not to judge. Be kind, everyone is carrying something.
Light. Light. Light. Light.
Why am I telling you all this? Because I have learned that sitting in my head, in isolation, makes everything worse. All it does is magnify it until you convince yourself its real. Bring these issues to light, the darkness will only make you wither.
So I have to say whether you've ever struggled with body issues, or you're just a mama who doesn't know what to do with your new frame.. you are not alone.
The hardest part of staying home everyday is the feeling that you're alone:
you're not.
And no matter what happy hoopla is being portrayed on social media (guilty) there are dishes in everyone's sink. There is uber amounts of coffee being consumed to manage the day and there are days when getting dressed feels like a mountain you cannot bear to climb.
You are beautiful.
You are loved.
You are worthy.
You are enough.
xo jess
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