It was happening. My most dreaded fear realized and it...was...horrifying.
Even as I type this I can feel the discomfort in my throat like a large pill that has shifted sideways on the way down.
My shirt came up at yoga and everyone could see my stomach.
Shit shit shit shit shit.
Gah it hurts to even talk about it. I thought writing this was going to be easy but it's proven to be extremely difficult.
I fidget a lot with my clothes. Pulling at my shirts - down, out side to side to fluff and fan so that they don't hug my belly in just the wrong way. I also pull my pants up to tuck in my "twin skin". I have been totally conscious and aware of this and I have been making an effort to stop doing it, especially at yoga because it's disruptive and interruptive to the focus of my practice. It's completely unnecessary and it's damaging to my efforts of trying to accept myself the way I am. I mean really, when it comes right down to it, everyone can see that I have a bit of a gut no matter how tight or lose my shirt, is or if I pull it away from clingy to my body.
So I guess secrets out, I have a gut.
It's a combo gut. Some of it's fat, some of it's stretched skin, some of it is that I have diastasis recti - aka a separated abdominal wall - the latter two and maybe even all three from being pregnant with twins.
Hey guess what, I have another secret, actually it's not mine but for some reason it's high priority top secret biz- a lot of women who have had children have this.
I know right? Who knew?
I saw the plastic surgeon about 2-3 years ago about having abdominoplasty and a panniculectomy. So that's the full mean deal - rip the muscles off and reattach them in place (very big scary deal), sew em back up and then remove the excess skin and fat (contouring) then make a new belly button. It was going to be about $9000 give or take. I decided to wait and think it over...
So where I am at now is really trying to love it. I mean how can I love what my body gave me - Lilly and Oliver - so exceptionally, but not love my body itself? Seems disconnected to me. Further more the big question for me is - why is it ugly? Why do I want to look like I never had kids. Forgive me, but it's pretty freaking obvious I have had children because my kids are usually with me wherever I go...so what's the deal?
So for who was I doing this? I can't live with it? I can't live with the evidence that I had just shy of 17 lbs of children inside of me at once? I mean it's pretty awesome don't ya think? It's my badge of honour, my war wounds!
It's always the first thing people say after you have a baby (or two) - "you look amazing!" And to be honest, we expect it, we hope for it, long for it even. I knew I didn't look awesome after my kids and at first I didn't care. I was just happy we were all alive and that my milk finally came in (fears of it not after having a breast reduction). But after the third month of their lives, I felt it was high time I got back to hating my body again as there was this gapping hole in my life where hate use to live while I was focusing on the two perfect little humans I grew in my body. Some women get back to looking the way they did before they had kids, and some even feel that they look better - but some don't, and that's ok! They are both ok are they not? Are we any less beautiful if we wear the proof that our babies inhabited our bodies for 40 (+ or -) weeks, for the rest of our lives? I am grateful after all, that they were so big, I know many women who have to suffer through the grueling reality of a small babe and my heart goes out to them. So how could I complain though REALLY!?
(I'm in no way putting this on anyone else here - if you want to have a tummy tuck, or have already - I pass no judgment. This is my experience and I am sharing it so that maybe other women will ask their own questions and be able to find some love for themselves that wasn't there before.)
These realizations have taken me a long time. I fight with my belly in the mirror everyday - it says "Love me!" I say "screw you, you look like an elephants vagina (or what I imagine one to look like, so ya I guess I have imagined that.)"
So where was I - oh ya - here I am trying to not fidget, just focus on my practice. We take our mats to the wall for headstand and I gear up by tucking my shirt deep into my tights.
I am working at headstand like it's my job right now so I asked for some assistance. Dana came over and held my feet in place, and just as I settled into the posture....my effing shirt became unlogged and slid up to my boobs.
Honestly, I would have been more relaxed if a nipple had popped out.
I tensed up and panicked. I contemplated dropping my feet. I was screaming inside "Let me go I can't have my belly exposed!!" I could see it in the mirror and she could see it and SHIT, everyone could see it! I was mortified and terrified and poopified as I almost crapped myself I was so thrown off.
So what did I do? I stared at it. I started at it across the room into the mirror for so long that an imaginary tumble weed drifted by, it was a stare down.
There it was, exposed - big and saggy and upside down looking like a frowning grumpy old man.
When I got back down to all fours I laid in child's pose and took some deep breaths. I made it. I inadvertently showed the class my stomach and I was still alive. Heck, it wasn't even that bad. No one pointed, no one ran shrieking in horror - no one said anything at all. Probably because no one gave a shit or even half a shit.
I have never been comfortable with my belly. Even here: see picture. Recognizing that helps me to know that a flat tummy doesn't equal happiness. I have to find that inside myself. All I can do it treat my body like the kick ass vessel is it by feeding it good foods, working it out, stretching it out and resting it out (and sexing it out too cause sex/intimacy is important, sorry Dad I had to say it). That's my job, that's my duty to my body. My body that asks for no more, no less.
(This picture is from early 2006, and you will notice if you click on it and enlarge it that it's after my breast reduction catastrophe. My main focus at the time was to be skinny, tanned and blond. I will note that I was the unhappiest I have ever been in my life. Everything I felt that I naturally wasn't, I wanted. I wanted to be someone else, but above all other things, I wanted to be sexy. I figured if I was sexy I would be impervious to heartbreak, mean shallow dudes, and that all girls would want to be friends with me. I thought if I changed my body to look sooooo different that I would become different too - that I would magically morph into a happy well adjusted woman.
I was dead wrong. Being sexy (for the wrong reasons and in unhealthy ways) actually made me more vulnerable. When guys saw me, I am pretty sure they figured I was DTF (down to...) I was hell bent on being fit by beating myself up and putting myself down, because I thought that when I accepted who I was that meant I would never find any improvement. I wasn't going to settled. Fuck that.
I know that I have a long way to go to love this big ol' belly of mine. But I'm going to put my best gut forward and give it a shot. I am changing my perspective, I am not going to settle for second rate bullshit. I am not going to be mad about the best thing that ever happened to me - becoming a mother. In order to get to motherhood my stomach had to give a lot. So now the kids and I pat it together, and jiggle it and make it into bread dough - but we say "Thank you belly! Thank you for growing Lilly and Oliver!"
Deep breath....
Here it is!
You might think it's gross...and I'm totally ok with that. I am showing this so that it can be normalized. No one ever shows their bellies. This is my naked belly.
and that ^ belly, grew these:
With gratitude and love
Grace E.
I am still accepting naked face pics, please add me to facebook!
Even as I type this I can feel the discomfort in my throat like a large pill that has shifted sideways on the way down.
My shirt came up at yoga and everyone could see my stomach.
Shit shit shit shit shit.
Gah it hurts to even talk about it. I thought writing this was going to be easy but it's proven to be extremely difficult.
I fidget a lot with my clothes. Pulling at my shirts - down, out side to side to fluff and fan so that they don't hug my belly in just the wrong way. I also pull my pants up to tuck in my "twin skin". I have been totally conscious and aware of this and I have been making an effort to stop doing it, especially at yoga because it's disruptive and interruptive to the focus of my practice. It's completely unnecessary and it's damaging to my efforts of trying to accept myself the way I am. I mean really, when it comes right down to it, everyone can see that I have a bit of a gut no matter how tight or lose my shirt, is or if I pull it away from clingy to my body.
So I guess secrets out, I have a gut.
It's a combo gut. Some of it's fat, some of it's stretched skin, some of it is that I have diastasis recti - aka a separated abdominal wall - the latter two and maybe even all three from being pregnant with twins.
Hey guess what, I have another secret, actually it's not mine but for some reason it's high priority top secret biz- a lot of women who have had children have this.
I know right? Who knew?
I saw the plastic surgeon about 2-3 years ago about having abdominoplasty and a panniculectomy. So that's the full mean deal - rip the muscles off and reattach them in place (very big scary deal), sew em back up and then remove the excess skin and fat (contouring) then make a new belly button. It was going to be about $9000 give or take. I decided to wait and think it over...
So where I am at now is really trying to love it. I mean how can I love what my body gave me - Lilly and Oliver - so exceptionally, but not love my body itself? Seems disconnected to me. Further more the big question for me is - why is it ugly? Why do I want to look like I never had kids. Forgive me, but it's pretty freaking obvious I have had children because my kids are usually with me wherever I go...so what's the deal?
So for who was I doing this? I can't live with it? I can't live with the evidence that I had just shy of 17 lbs of children inside of me at once? I mean it's pretty awesome don't ya think? It's my badge of honour, my war wounds!
It's always the first thing people say after you have a baby (or two) - "you look amazing!" And to be honest, we expect it, we hope for it, long for it even. I knew I didn't look awesome after my kids and at first I didn't care. I was just happy we were all alive and that my milk finally came in (fears of it not after having a breast reduction). But after the third month of their lives, I felt it was high time I got back to hating my body again as there was this gapping hole in my life where hate use to live while I was focusing on the two perfect little humans I grew in my body. Some women get back to looking the way they did before they had kids, and some even feel that they look better - but some don't, and that's ok! They are both ok are they not? Are we any less beautiful if we wear the proof that our babies inhabited our bodies for 40 (+ or -) weeks, for the rest of our lives? I am grateful after all, that they were so big, I know many women who have to suffer through the grueling reality of a small babe and my heart goes out to them. So how could I complain though REALLY!?
(I'm in no way putting this on anyone else here - if you want to have a tummy tuck, or have already - I pass no judgment. This is my experience and I am sharing it so that maybe other women will ask their own questions and be able to find some love for themselves that wasn't there before.)
These realizations have taken me a long time. I fight with my belly in the mirror everyday - it says "Love me!" I say "screw you, you look like an elephants vagina (or what I imagine one to look like, so ya I guess I have imagined that.)"
So where was I - oh ya - here I am trying to not fidget, just focus on my practice. We take our mats to the wall for headstand and I gear up by tucking my shirt deep into my tights.
I am working at headstand like it's my job right now so I asked for some assistance. Dana came over and held my feet in place, and just as I settled into the posture....my effing shirt became unlogged and slid up to my boobs.
Honestly, I would have been more relaxed if a nipple had popped out.
I tensed up and panicked. I contemplated dropping my feet. I was screaming inside "Let me go I can't have my belly exposed!!" I could see it in the mirror and she could see it and SHIT, everyone could see it! I was mortified and terrified and poopified as I almost crapped myself I was so thrown off.
So what did I do? I stared at it. I started at it across the room into the mirror for so long that an imaginary tumble weed drifted by, it was a stare down.
There it was, exposed - big and saggy and upside down looking like a frowning grumpy old man.
When I got back down to all fours I laid in child's pose and took some deep breaths. I made it. I inadvertently showed the class my stomach and I was still alive. Heck, it wasn't even that bad. No one pointed, no one ran shrieking in horror - no one said anything at all. Probably because no one gave a shit or even half a shit.
I have never been comfortable with my belly. Even here: see picture. Recognizing that helps me to know that a flat tummy doesn't equal happiness. I have to find that inside myself. All I can do it treat my body like the kick ass vessel is it by feeding it good foods, working it out, stretching it out and resting it out (and sexing it out too cause sex/intimacy is important, sorry Dad I had to say it). That's my job, that's my duty to my body. My body that asks for no more, no less.
I was dead wrong. Being sexy (for the wrong reasons and in unhealthy ways) actually made me more vulnerable. When guys saw me, I am pretty sure they figured I was DTF (down to...) I was hell bent on being fit by beating myself up and putting myself down, because I thought that when I accepted who I was that meant I would never find any improvement. I wasn't going to settled. Fuck that.
I know that I have a long way to go to love this big ol' belly of mine. But I'm going to put my best gut forward and give it a shot. I am changing my perspective, I am not going to settle for second rate bullshit. I am not going to be mad about the best thing that ever happened to me - becoming a mother. In order to get to motherhood my stomach had to give a lot. So now the kids and I pat it together, and jiggle it and make it into bread dough - but we say "Thank you belly! Thank you for growing Lilly and Oliver!"
Deep breath....
Here it is!
You might think it's gross...and I'm totally ok with that. I am showing this so that it can be normalized. No one ever shows their bellies. This is my naked belly.
it was once this belly....
Grace E.
I am still accepting naked face pics, please add me to facebook!
Grace,
ReplyDeletethis is open, raw and beautiful.It is amazing what a little perspective can do for you.You are absolutely beautiful inside and out.Thanks for being so vulnerable and honest :)
Wow! This message really affected me! I have the same looking belly and I am so self conscious, even around my hubby. I also have the deflated boobs, they are my worst enemy! I am very proud of my children (4 year old girl and 1 year old boy) and wouldn't change my life for anything but....how to get past this awful feeling about my appearance. I like the message you wrote about how before your kids you were thin but unhappy, that is me!! I have never been happier and my kids are my reason for being here on this earth. Thank you for helping me to see what is most important!
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