In my early adulthood, I was never one to obsess over my appearance or spend excessive time at the gym scrutinizing my body for flaws. While I have my share of insecurities—a bit of a rounded belly, sturdy thighs, and arms that might jiggle—these concerns have never consumed me. Growing up with three brothers taught me that I didn’t need to chase conventional beauty standards. Instead, I’ve come to appreciate the value of being average.
My body, as it is, has served me well. Its height enabled me to excel in competitive tennis, its stamina powered me through late-night thesis writing, and its strength helped me move my belongings into my first New York City apartment. My body’s resilience has seen me through ailments and surgeries. Because I choose not to fixate on its perceived flaws, I am free to celebrate its functionality.
I’ve never devoted hours to hairstyling or makeup. Even on my wedding day, I spent less than two hours preparing. The dress, which I wore with unyielding confidence, cost under $100. Instead of hiring a polished photographer, I asked a friend known for edgy work to capture the spirit of the day. Looking back at those photos, I see the unflattering angles of my arms; yet, in another frame, those very arms are joyfully lifting my husband. Rather than worrying about my appearance, I reveled in the celebration and danced until I could no longer stand.
When I became pregnant, I was inundated with warnings about how my body would change. “Use lots of lotion to avoid stretch marks. Don’t gain more than 15 pounds or you’ll regret it. Enjoy your thick hair while it lasts, as you’ll soon face the reality of motherhood.” Fast forward through two C-sections, 70 pregnancy pounds, and 35 months of breastfeeding, and I find that little has changed. My makeup routine remains minimal, my belly is still not flat, and my thighs are still thick. The only thing that has really changed is the occasional head bump onto the oatmeal-encrusted table when my child refuses to eat something.
Yet my body continues to fulfill its role. I may not be the most graceful, but I can hold a 35-pound child in one arm and a 25-pound child in the other while managing a diaper bag filled with essentials. I can navigate grocery trips while pulling a wagon and carrying a balance bike. If my belly wasn’t flat before motherhood, it certainly hasn’t changed since, but I find no reason to mourn my pre-baby body. It remains a part of me.
It is liberating not to compare my body or face to others. For any woman contemplating motherhood, I encourage you to embrace your own normalcy. If you didn’t have thick, shiny hair before pregnancy, it’s unlikely to magically appear afterward. If your breasts were never particularly perky, don’t expect them to defy gravity after nursing. Let go of those societal expectations and appreciate the incredible capabilities of your body. You are about to embark on the transformative journey of motherhood, and your body is equipped to handle it.
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Summary
This piece highlights the importance of embracing one’s body and its imperfections, especially during motherhood. It encourages women to appreciate their physical capabilities rather than obsess over societal beauty standards. The narrative emphasizes that the journey of motherhood is profound and that our bodies are equipped to handle it.