So Much to Say, Part One
Posted on January 31, 2008
Filed Under girly girl |
Secret Agent Mama rose to a challenge. I’m gonna try, too.
As women, we’re drawn to self-loathing. We’re not thin enough, curvy enough, hairless enough, flexible enough. Seems we’re never enough and someone else is always too perfect and it begets a brutal type of envy. Hatred even, sometimes.
Photoshop and America’s Next Top Model and celebrity moms dropping baby weight in three weeks can lead a mom to feel more than lack lustre. To feel downright ugly and hippo-like.
I have a long and twisted history with aesthetic self-hatred. It started at seven when I learned how to be anorexic. Something I’ve worked for 20 years since, with some dabbling in bulimia, over exercising, smoking, over-caffeinating and opiates for extra creds. I’ve been anywhere from 69 to 137 pounds (at delivery) and consistently two things caused me to look in the mirror and sigh, cry, squat and plot.
My boobs and my stomach. The boobs got an overhaul when they went from A land to D land in 2004. Breastfeeding gave them a helping hand so that now, I’m just that skinny chick with the pretty cool rack. I’ve come to peace with the boobs. The twins and me, we’re like ex-lovers who still can sit and fondly reminisce.
The tummy and I, we’re the equivalent of what I see Isobel and I being in about 13 years - cat fighting and pondering murderous thoughts. And grounding. Oh the grounding. But today, in honour of a made up ‘love your body’ holiday, I’m going to say this:
Tummy, you and I have been through a lot. You’ve never failed me. You’ve sprung back (though more like a map than I’d choose) from housing a human being. You’ve allowed me a month of chocolate in vast quantities on a nightly basis. You’ve even brought some of the boys in the yard. Tummy, you rule.
And one more thing, Tummy? I promise I’ll never eat three packs of Ritz Cheese Sandwiches again after a chocolate pudding cake, if you promise not to go Chernobyl on me the morning afterwards. But one question? Are we too old/unhip or is it now too played out to get you repierced? And how do you really feel about that next planned tattoo for you?
Probably just as moody:
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9 Responses to “So Much to Say, Part One”
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Brave girl! I take that cat fight with your tummy to the mat! Get that piercing and tat… you earned it!
I think your belly is fabuuuuuuuulous!! Love that you did this. Seriously. You rocked it.
Gorgeous. I linked you and want to give you my most sincere appreciation, support, and love. You rock!
It’s interesting what carrying a child does to different people. I got left with extra skin (ok, it’s flab) but no stretch marks. I am jealous of your flat stomach! Thanks for posting this. With your background, it can’t be easy. You are perfect and look 100% better then 99.9% of the moms out there (the .1% being the Hollywood moms that are probably photoshopped!)
I’ll trade ya. My tummy can jello mud wrestle. You should SEE that fucker jiggle.
Go on ya for playing along. It’s way hard, isn’t it?
Your tummy is beautiful. What does your little tat mean?
you have a beautiful tummy! what an amazingly written post!!!
Your stomach is beautiful!!! Thanks for sharing and being so brave
Great post, and great tummy, too!