Stretch marks, loose skin, extra weight, sagging breasts—these may be the first things that catch your eye. But I perceive so much more.
My body has nurtured and birthed my three beloved children. It has cared for them every single day, endured the heart-wrenching grief of loss, and faced immense physical challenges. My body has triumphed.
When I look at myself, I see a mother’s love, incredible resilience, and unwavering determination.
Before welcoming my first child, I battled body dysmorphia and unhealthy eating habits that began in my early teens. I will never forget the overwhelming love and pride I felt the day my son, Finn, was born. As I gazed at his beautiful face, I realized that not only had he entered the world, but I had too. He became my everything, my reason for being, and my body was the vessel that brought him here.
This profound moment transformed my self-image. I finally understood that my body is not merely an ornament; it’s an instrument. That realization may seem trivial, but after being conditioned by societal norms for so long, I had no idea how powerful my body truly was.
My body fulfilled its purpose, bringing my child into this world. The vessel I had tried to shrink and punish for years to meet society’s beauty standards was meant for so much more than I ever imagined. It now tells the story of the greatest joy I have experienced.
Now that my children are 3 and 1, I often find myself at home in just my underwear. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m proud to say they’ve never heard me utter a single negative word about my body or anyone else’s.
It is crucial for me that my kids witness me embracing and loving myself as I am, as it empowers them to do the same. The beautiful truth is, they don’t care about the rolls, stretch marks, or loose skin. They care about whether I’m splashing in the water with them at the beach, cuddling them to sleep, remembering their favorite juice at the store, and letting them mix the pancake batter. All they want is to be with me.
My body nurtures them, nourishes, bathes, wipes away tears and snot, lifts them high like superheroes, and expresses the love I hold for them in my heart and soul. My body is their sanctuary. It’s my sanctuary.
We are mothers, a diverse community of women bonded by the shared experience of motherhood. We are fierce, and we wear our pride proudly. Yet, we are more than just mothers; we are partners, daughters, sisters, and friends. We deserve a space to discuss more than just our children. For those interested in more topics, check out our other blog post. And if your kids are out of diapers, you might find valuable insights on surviving the tween years at our authority site.
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