So over the last few weeks I’ve actually had the courage to check out the ol rear view. BAD IDEA! So now I, Cakesy, am going to have to face the truth: I’m pretty sure that I’m showing the beginnings of the dreaded SBS. Sagging Butt Syndrome. No!!! But I’m still young! Excuse me, karma, have I really been that bad?
I am now thinking about body image in general. And specifically MOM body image. On the one hand, I’m wrecked. I’m happy to report that I did a pretty good job of enjoying my fabulous body back when I had it. But if I had known how bad it would get and how quickly, I would’ve appreciated it even more.
Seriously, it’s tip to toe. Of course I am too tired, broke, and busy to do things like use nice hair and skincare products, wax/tweeze/shave as often as I’d like, get regular haircuts, spend an hour with the curling iron, buy stylish and flattering clothes, eat and exercise in a healthful way, etc. Hell lets be real, I don’t even get a chance to put on lotion half the time.
But that’s nothing compared to the big things. I am covered in stretch marks from my breasts to my thighs (I call it my stretch mark minidress). My hormones have betrayed me to the point that I have insurmountable acne (what kind of cruel joke is acne and grey hair at the same time?) The exhaustion combined with the busyness make losing weight so hard, so I have a nice extra layer of flab all over, and while I’m slowly losing a little weight, that flabby layer just isn’t budging. This defies logic. My poor boobs are too sad to speak of. But I think my favorite part might be my protruding hernia and permanently ripped apart ab muscles.
Although, here’s what I can’t get over lately. I am not a great beauty. This is not me whining, or fishing for compliments, or being too down on myself; this is just facts. We can’t all be Salma Hayek. However. It used be that when I put in some effort on the hair/makeup/clothes, I could look in the mirror and feel pretty good. 🙂 so I don’t know if it was the second kid or the 30th birthday that did it to me, but no matter WHAT lately, every time I pass a mirror: fair to middling. Every time.
So that’s weird. It’s weird to think that I’m never again going to be the girl that makes a man’s head turn. Except maybe to think, “Is she talking to herself? Is that dried peanut butter on the back of her sleeve? Didn’t that girl used to be kind of pretty?” Huh, I guess I didn’t realize my level of vanity.
Honestly, I’m a lot more at peace with these things than I ever thought I’d be. I’d really like to lose a bit more weight, because that seems like something that I actually CAN control. But my boobs, they’ve sustained LIFE! Twice. I don’t wanna be too down on em. And the belly flab? Well, it seems to make fun for Corbin. He really likes to grab at it like it’s play doh or something, makes him smile. 🙂 My husband vehemently swears that he thinks I look great. I still feel a little bad for him, boy did he get hoodwinked in this regard, but his always complimentary reaction makes it all a lot less depressing.
And here’s the most important thing: I have a daughter. I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking that her female body is something to be criticized, loathed, picked apart. I don’t want her to grow up believing that her value is in her physical appearance and that the only appearance that is worthwhile is thin and nubile. She’s already got a good start at healthy body image with Brian for a dad. Now I have to fight my demons and do my part!
But I also have to fight my laziness and do some squats. Seriously.