This post isn’t about the “bodycon” tight silhouette look. Neither is it really about the outfit I am wearing… rather, it is about how I felt wearing it. In short, not so great after seeing the pictures. Let me back up for a minute. Most of us are on some sort of a body journey. Whether we just think about it or hit the gym like it’s our religion, or fall somewhere in between. I personally have been working towards my post-babies body really since about a year ago when I found out my husband planned a beach getaway for my birthday. Since returning from that trip, I stayed the course working towards my body goals — not defined by a particular size (although I would like to fit in all my old clothes) or lbs on a scale. But utlimatley how I feel about myself. And, after this particular shoot, I felt a bit body conscious.
Here it goes. Some context: my body quickly bounced back after I had my twin girls. By their 8-month birthday, my stomach was flat as a board and my pre-baby clothes fit. Not just fit, they fit. You feel me? The journey after your second baby, or in my case, second pregnancy and third baby is nothing like the first. 99% of moms are nodding their heads vigorously right now. The second time around is a longer and much tougher journey. I eat healthier than I have ever before in my life. I go to the gym regularly. Yet, here I am 17 months post-partum and I’m still not there. I am getting closer, but still not there. That damn lower belly … I don’t even need to finish my sentence, and I bet most of you know what I’m talking about. But for the sake of concluding my thought… my damn lower belly looks like I’m carrying a food baby. A food baby that drops a couple lbs one day, and gains it right back the next day.
Now coming back to this shoot. First thing’s first. I vowed to never wear paper-bag pants again until my belly pudge is no more a belly pudge. Paper-bag pants in my experience exaggerate the hell out of that pudge. I don’t need that in my life right now… or ever, really. My first thought after seeing the pictures: yikes am I pregnant again? I told my husband I need whatever mommy makeover surgeries were out there. He told me I’m crazy and that I’m beautiful. And I told him aw that’s nice, but you’re supposed to say that.
This isn’t about societal pressure to be Kendall-Gigi-esque size double zeros… Well I take that back. I am sure if all magazine spreads were not covered in photos of teeny tiny models, I would feel differently. We all would. But, for me, it is a little more than that. I realized that I am extra hard on myself because since childhood I have been athletic and skinny (thanks, in part, to good genes). I would eat pizza, soda, chocolate and a tub of ice cream in one sitting without much thought or worry. I played sports and had a fast metabolism so the poor eating didn’t catch up to me. I was fortunate. Not anymore. I gain a pound thinking about pizza.
After allowing myself a day to feel down-in-the-dumps, I picked myself back up, said FU$# that and turned those feelings into motivation. I decided to make some changes in the gym — diversify my routine — to challenge my body. I signed up for Solidcore (which has been kicking my butt). Second, I had a pep talk with thyself. It’s easy to get swept up in society’s appearance-driven pressures. It’s important not to succumb to that. I’m doing the best I can. I have never felt healthier. I feel better. That is what’s important.
Your journey could be similar to mine, whether you’re a mom or not. Or, you could be struggling with something else. Regardless, you are in control. You have the ability to turn a struggle into an opportunity to better yourself and the situation at hand. That photoshoot was a blessing in disguise. I had a sorta come-to-Jesus moment, and hit the reset button. I needed that.
I also felt compelled to share these thoughts on here because sometimes we just need that one person to open up about his/her insecurities to remind us we are all human. As much as social media connects us, it can also isolate us. We see perfection, order, and pretty within the frames of the little Instagram squares in someone else’s account — and start believing that person’s life is just perfect. Before you realize it you get pulled into a terrible game of comparisons… if you don’t stop yourself you will end up feeling alone and crappy. So don’t ever do that. No one’s life is perfect. No one is free of insecurities.
This was quite a personal post for me. If you have anything you want to share about your journey or anything, really, I’d love to hear it. Thanks for taking the time to read.