When I got out of the shower this morning, I started to walk into my bedroom, but was stopped by my perpetual desire to look at myself in the mirror. Call it vanity, insecurity, need for validation… whatever-I really don’t care why I do it- I just know that I need to. It gives me an opportunity to exercise some good, old-fashioned, healthy criticism, and it’s a great way to practice talking to yourself. I’ve always said that talking to yourself only makes you crazy if you do it in such a way that it appears you aren’t talking to anyone- like the guy with the blue tooth on his ear but you can’t see it, etc… However, even if you are the person you are talking to, by looking at an image of yourself, you are actually talking to the visual embodiment of your physical self. Therefore, talking to yourself while looking at yourself in the mirror is completely within the realm of normal, human behavior.
So, as I was observing myself in the mirror, I found myself turning to the side, being careful to position my hips just so- you know, that angle that emphasizes your good assets, while diminishing those negative areas. When I look at myself this way, I usually say something like “yes ma’am, loo-kin’ good” in that “be cool” kind of voice… and then there’s the lines. Oh, those incessant stretches in the skin that constantly remind me that I once pushed something the size of a watermelon out an opening the size of a grapefruit- you know, the miracle of birth. Now, I’m not trying to reduce motherhood/pregnancy to something undesirable- I love being a mother… I just don’t enjoy being reminded that, what once looked like a smooth, sensual, feminine form, now looks like scars from a fight with a mountain lion- which is not nearly as cool as it sounds.
(Sigh)… once again I tell myself “Alright, Katie- this is your body… deal with it.” Surprisingly enough, it’s not a depressing statement so much as an encouraging one. As I turn my body towards the mirror, facing front now in the mirror, I am forced to come to terms with my desire for the ideal body type in spite of the imperfections of my nude condition. I say to myself, “I’m a woman, dammit!” I really don’t know why I say this, but for some reason, the “woman” gives me a sense of empowerment, and the “dammit” just makes me sound like a man from some 1940’s flick- which makes me laugh… Anyways, I guess the point of all this jargon is that you have to love yourself the way you are, whether you like it or not.
Oh, and if you happen to be one of those rare individuals who somehow retained your perfect, pre-pregnancy facade, please keep your feelings/thoughts/comments to yourself. It’s nothing personal… I just hate you.
Oh Katie, this blog is absolutely fantastic! It explains exactly how I feel. I was finally able to deal with my stretch marks and got into a bikini again last summer, stretch marks or not, but they have to be the absolute worst reminder of having a baby. I also happen to be the first lady in my family who has gotten them, and my mom had 5 kids and my grandma had 4. I guess I got to be the lucky one! I cannot stand meeting other Mom’s who gained 75 lbs (like I did) and completely go back to pre-pregnancy shape in a few weeks. UGH. Well, POWER to you, sister! Wear those tiger marks with pride
Precisely why I am not having children.