On body image

I’m insecure. Maybe you already know this, and I just think I hide it better than I do. But if you were to take a deep dive into my psyche, most days I’m really just an insecure little girl.

Working in the fitness industry is a blessing. An overall healthy lifestyle and taking care of your body is just part of the gig. It feels good to know that you’re taking care of yourself - we all know that we should be working out regularly, after all. And if we’re not, we feel guilty deep down inside. But even good things can have bad side effects. One of them is the unfortunate comparison trap. I suppose not everyone falls into it, but I definitely did.

Everyone looks up to someone. Everyone aspires to be like somebody else. And as ridiculous as it sounds when I say it out loud, the mirror I’ve been comparing myself to is that of the professional CrossFit athlete.

I would really love to have an eight pack year round (shoot, I’d even take a six pack), perfectly matching sports bras and shorts, nutrition on point, and the confidence of a champion. Never mind the fact that they workout 3+ times a day, are sponsored by clothing companies that send them perfectly fitting outfits straight to their doorstep, have a whole team of dietitians working with them plus meal prep services providing them with delicious AND nutritious food, and have worked their asses off for years to gain their confidence.

I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that my postpartum body just isn’t going to have an eight pack. I get most of my workout clothes at TJMaxx because #budget, but one day NoBull is going to call me up (I just know it). The nutrition piece is a tossup for me. I’ve been on that merry-go-round for years and at this point I really don’t have the energy or desire to do what it takes to look how I want. The confidence bit is at an interesting place for me right now. I’m working with a therapist and it’s been doing wonders for my self-image. But it’s definitely still a work in progress. I think really what I’m saying is: I’d like to be a stay at home mom, who looks like a professional athlete, but eats like a seventh grader, and has the confidence of a two year old. Oh and I only want to workout 5 times a week… I’m not interested in two-a-days (or three, or four).

I’m making a joke of it, but I’m also dead serious. How often do we compare ourselves to others? Why do we set such high expectations for ourselves to reach completely unrealistic standards, or else we’ll never be happy? Why do we expect the same results that someone else is seeing, when they are living an entirely different life? And why aren’t we satisfied with what is right in front of us - both our bodies and the much more important things like enjoying life with the people we care about.

I’m honestly tired of fighting with my body. I laugh (slow fade into a cry) when I think about how I used to be insecure about the rocking bod I had before pregnancy reshaped it. I’ve spent more than enough time hating what I see in the mirror. I’m tired of trying on and taking back off clothes that used to fit - still don’t fit - hopefully will fit again one day. I hate how self-conscious I was in a bathing suit on a trip we took this past weekend to Florida. But I can feel things shifting in the background of my mind, and I’m trying to lean into it.

Who cares? Let me say it again, louder for the people in the back: Who FREAKING cares? We’ve all heard the, “no one else is paying as much attention to you as you are - they are too busy thinking about themselves” thing before. But let’s be honest, it’s true. Also, again, who freaking cares?

Suppose the beautiful skinny girl at the pool (that I was simultaneously admiring and hating - insert face palm emoji) saw me and thought, “Wow. She shouldn’t be wearing that. I’d be so embarrassed if that was me…” One, I don’t know you, Judy, and I’ll never see you again and therefore I don’t give a shit what you think about me. Two, I am married (J’s the only person I’m here to impress) and had a baby (who is the greatest joy of my life) AND found the confidence (read “am working on finding”) to wear this to the pool. So thank you for your judgement stranger, but my life is so full of things that matter WAY more than impressing you. Lastly, as my friend Ashton says, “Your body is the least interesting thing about you.” There is SO much more to me than this shell I am living in. So judge me if you must, but you have no clue how effing beautiful I am on the inside (insert Lizzo attitude and z pattern snaps).

Like I said, I can feel things slowly shifting in my mind. I am still very much so struggling with my body image and self-confidence and expectations and just plain accepting myself for what I am and where I am in the whole process. But I am starting to understand on a deeper level that my happiness and confidence don’t have to be tied to my body. I don’t have to look a certain way in order to respect myself or enjoy the things going on around me. I can focus on how I feel - physically and emotionally - rather than how I look. I can stop missing out on all of the beautiful moments with the people I love every single day because of my own insecurity.

I was writing down some blog ideas on the flight home from Florida and had a moment of deep realization. A lot of times when I write it’s just working through my thoughts and feelings, but every once in a while I write something that almost feels holy. I typed this into the notes section of my phone and sat there for a moment:

If God created me and said, “it is good”, how arrogant of me to say, “not good enough”. If God loves me just as I am, how disrespectful of me to reject who I am. If God desires me, how blind of me to desire to be someone else.

Ouch. If the God of the universe who formed my innermost parts created me this way, and he never makes mistakes, whyyyyy would I think I know better? Why would I think my plan or vision for my body is better? Why would I fight, critique, loathe, and hide how He made me?

I’ve still got a long ways to go. But I’m starting to slowly embrace the concept that the shape of my body doesn’t determine my social value. I’m working on embracing my body right where I am with kindness, instead of critique. I’m also working on focusing on how I feel rather than how I look. Ultimately I’m trying to be thankful for all that I have, rather than thinking about what I’m not. I’m still insecure, but a little less so than a few weeks ago, so I’ll take that as a win. :)