In middle school, while enjoying some soft serve on a sunny afternoon, my friend Sarah playfully placed her hand on my lower belly and exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, I love this!” There we were, just the two of us, and I didn’t feel embarrassed. She was my closest confidante, the one who had giggled with me as we tried on bras in the harsh lighting of the department store dressing room. She had witnessed my every attempt to conceal my little belly, which I fondly called my “belly pooch,” and despite her flat stomach, I found myself wishing I could embrace my body the way she did.
From a young age, I had a bit of a potbelly. Even as a slender child with long limbs, I noticed a gentle curve below my belly button. After hitting puberty, I quickly learned that I could indulge in all the delicious treats I desired, but they would inevitably settle right at my waistline. I craved a different figure, one without this persistent belly, as I navigated the awkwardness of adolescence.
During high school, I mostly wore a size 8, belly and all. I went through a phase of believing that if I could just achieve model-like thinness by restricting my calories to a mere 1,200 a day, I would finally love myself more. I lost about 20 pounds, but my belly stayed, a constant reminder that I was made this way. I couldn’t escape it; I could starve myself, but my pooch was here to stay. Eventually, I grew tired of the deprivation and accepted that my body had its own unique shape.
Fast forward to my 40s, after bringing three wonderful children into the world, I have learned to embrace my belly. It’s not going anywhere, and I’ve accepted that. I run 40 miles a week because I enjoy the challenge, and during every run, I feel my belly. That’s just part of being me, and it’s perfectly normal.
We often forget that “normal” comes in many shapes and sizes. After having children, I found myself in larger clothing, and that was okay. My friend Kelly, who also had three kids, felt disheartened about going from a size 2 to a size 8, but she was normal at both sizes. Another friend, who adores nachos and margaritas, finds joy in her walks; she wears a size 12 and looks stunning—she’s normal too. Even Ashley Graham, my favorite model, proudly showcases her beautiful curves; she embodies normalcy. My sister-in-law, a competitive athlete with rock-hard abs, is also normal.
We all strive to look and feel our best, often grappling with the genetics we’ve been dealt. It’s easy to admire beauty in others while we criticize ourselves. Our bellies, after all, are gentle protectors of our organs and homes for the food we enjoy. They’ve nurtured life and deserve love, regardless of their size.
There is no such thing as a perfect body—except for the body we have right now. Whether we have a thigh gap, a belly pooch, or toned abs, each body is perfect in its own right. So, let’s start treating ourselves with the same kindness we afford our friends. We truly deserve it.
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Summary:
In this reflective piece, Jessica Lane shares her journey of embracing her belly pooch, highlighting the importance of self-acceptance and recognizing that all bodies are normal. Through personal anecdotes and observations about friends and family, she encourages readers to appreciate their unique shapes and to treat themselves with the same kindness they offer others.