Push In and Lift Up
April 28, 2016, 12:39 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

I am many things.

One of these things is a soldier.

I am soldier that steps out from her battalion and speaks the words that no one really wants to.

It’s easy to not want to. I did it for half of life. I took my demons, my insecurities, my self loathing and misunderstanding, and I swallowed them down into my belly.

But, one day, I opened my mouth and it all started coming out. It’s embarrassing and awkward at first but as you stand there and see the waterfall of dysfunction gush from you, you feel free, lighter, braver.


I’m a solider.

And tonight I want to talk about something that has been frustrating me to the point of self medication lately. I want to talk about something that I am still battling and that makes me weak.

I want to talk about my self esteem. My physical self esteem.

Before I was a mother, a wife, an adult, I was athletic. I was a cheerleader and was constantly converting any fat on my small frame into useful muscle. I never worried about gaining weight; my metabolism was impressive.

Now? Now I am a woman who has grown a human inside of her body. It left my body battered and bruised and forever different.

I know other mothers and most friends and family will fly a banner for “But We Are So Much More Beautiful This Way” but guys–

I miss my old body.

There are things I can do to help me get back a little of what I’ve lost. I can lift weights, run, squats, burpees. But there are parts of me that will never be the same.

My belly, which used to be strong and flat, is soft now. I may drop enough pounds to not look “pudgy” but I will never have a flat stomach again; I will never abs to speak of again. They tore and separated while I carried my child.

Most of me is rounded and soft now. I know that I should not care. I know that I gave up my former self to be something greater–to be a mother.

But is it selfish of me to look at old pictures from college or high school and then look in the mirror and try to push my belly back in, lift my breasts higher, make my thighs thinner?

I’m sure it is.

Some days I am okay. I am accepting. I remind myself that curves are as desirable as being lean. I remind myself that I simply look like a mother and that is perhaps the greatest beauty we can achieve.

But then other days, I hide under my comforter and stare at pictures on my phone of the thin girl I left behind.


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Comment by Jenna Hatfield

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