Something I don’t talk about is my body image issues. Why? Because it’s still a struggle. But, maybe if I began talking about it like I did about my alcoholism 4.5 yrs ago it would help lift the stigma I place on myself.
I don’t see what you see. I don’t see what the mirror image shows me. My eyes see someone different. Someone larger. My thighs appear bigger, I focus on every ounce of cellulite, I focus on my weird nose and whether or not I can see my collar bone or not. When I see a picture of myself I don’t truly believe it’s me. The camera must be lying. I’m bigger than that.
You see this is what a body image issue is. It’s in our brains. It’s not self seeking for attention or compliments. It does not mean I believe all people should be skinny. In fact I look at curvy women and admire their confidence! This is a constant battle between reality vs disorder. It’s not fun and I don’t wish it on anyone. It’s obsessively worrying about being perfect which is insanity because perfection does not exist.
As my body changes with my pregnancy I see my growing bum, breasts and thighs. It’s a battle of knowing this is normal and healthy, and knowing I’m being a good mom by nurturing my son, to obsessing over how big my body is getting and how long will it take to get back. And then I feel selfish for worrying about it.
I cannot wait to hold you my son. My 3rd boy. My precious gift from God. My love for you is already growing and it’s already unconditional. I would give my last breath for my children’s first. When I hold you for the first time I know this will all be worth it. The back pain, my body aches, my hormones being wacky, my eating disorder being triggered by weight gain, the labor, the healing afterwards….all worth it and I would do it again if it meant being your mommy. I cannot promise that I’ll be a perfect mom but I can promise that I’ll always be the very best that I can be. I will love you and your brothers for my entire life and beyond in heaven. Completely unconditional.
This is what I need to focus on. I need to tell my disorder to fuck off. Because I have a husband and soon to be 3 son’s who see me as a beautiful loving and caring mother who could care less about my body size.
At the end of the day is it really about size? Or is it me trying to control myself?
Perhaps God is telling Me, “You see Amanda, I put this life inside you. Appreciate the amazing wonders your body can do. You’re growing a life. You’re giving life. That is the most beautiful thing in the world. Love your body for what it’s giving you”
After 17 years of battling this, I’m starting to see a light. A possible path that will be healthier. Will I ever be completely free of this? No. But I am slowly starting to retrain my brain into believing and seeing myself for who I really am.
Thank you to my unborn son for helping me appreciate my body. For learning to love what it can do, which is more important than how it looks.