The other day I was leaving my house and the kind old lady next door patted me on the belly like I was a Buddha and pleasantly asked if I was having another baby. Basically any self-esteem I had mustered up in the years since I’ve given birth was washed away with one swoop of her tiny old lady hand. Seriously, I was wearing leggings like they were regular pans; that’s how good I was feeling before this incident.
Then I remembered when I was 16 or so my two best friends were very petite. Since they were size 00 and I was a size 4 I thought that meant I was fat. One day we thought it would be a good idea to take a picture of the three of us on the beach. Our bikini-clad trio lined up in front of the surf and snapped a picture. The second it was developed (yes it was that long ago that the picture needed to be developed.) I stared at it thinking: “what in gods name made me pose between the two of them on the beach? I’m practically twice their size not to mention I have the complexion of an extra on True Blood.” I hid the picture under my bed and vowed never to speak of it again.
After I went off to college I settled into a healthy adult weight - which I of course, thought made me fat. One day I found the picture of us three on the beach and I thought to myself: “What the hell was wrong with me back then?” I looked awesome. I cursed myself for not being more confident and happy with the way I was. After looking at my beach photo I resolved to lose the ten pounds separating me from my 16 year old self – which was pretty unrealistic.
Fast forward to motherhood. I’m 20 pounds heavier than 16 and so frustrated with my weight. One day I was mindlessly checking my Facebook photos from college admiring how thin I was. Again I cursed myself for even thinking about losing weight back then. Then it hit me, in ten years from now who knows what I’m going to weigh, but I’d be willing to bet that I’d look back on pictured today and curse myself for being unhappy with my weight.
There is always something that will bother me about my body but I’ve learned to get over it. I’ll probably end up pregnant again and any problems about my weight will fly out the window until I give birth, then they’ll all come flooding back. I’ll just have to steer clear of my neighbor.