Dangerous Liaisons, or Me and My Body

Dangerous Liaisons, or Me and My Body

 

In a perfect world, we would get rid of Facebook and stop using Photoshop to retouch our imperfections. We would wait for our friends at our usual meeting spot after having set up the rendez-vous earlier via our cool landline phone. 

 

All right, ‘93 is not coming back, I get it. But let’s face it: that would have been a much easier time to raise my daughter.

 

What are we doing to one another now? How is it even possible that an awesome singer is bullied because of her weight? Why does a young fitness instructor request that a graphic designer retouch her images to make her thighs and arms look half their actual size? Was it society, herself, or the designer who told her that the image would look healthier/sexier/more proportional or aesthetically pleasing? I mean, come on.

 

It isn’t easy being a woman. It’s especially difficult to be a mother. Some pregnant moms who continue the usual - but obviously lighter - workout routine are the subject of scrutiny. Those women might be accused of “not gaining enough weight.”  They might post pictures of flat bellies a couple of weeks after giving birth. But for many of us, that isn’t the case. Some pregnant moms are accused of gaining too much weight during pregnancy and are shamed that they can’t or won’t address the issue. They consider their bodies a hopeless cause. They might write themselves off as being “just a mom” and society might agree. 

 

It’s like women can’t win. Society tells us we look “too good” or “not good enough” and women internalize these messages. The motive behind this witch hunt doesn’t even matter. If it is done out of jealousy, boredom, or some sort of revenge, in the end many of us just feel miserable.

 

Maybe it would be easiest not to write, take pictures or talk about success. But everyone needs positive feedback, especially moms who have just given birth. And more often than not, the appreciation doesn’t come. It isn’t acknowledged that our bodies underwent the most incredible transformation to create life. There is a drive for women to “get our bodies back” and post pictures in slinky dresses while bragging about how brilliant our babies are. We’re supposed to have it all.

 

This topic came up when I was talking about the postpartum recovery program with my OB/GYN. Just think about it: everyone pays attention to a pregnant woman. Does she eat the right amount of nutritious food? Does she take the right vitamins? Is her blood pressure okay? She is constantly monitored, protected, and cared for. But when the baby is born, the woman is somehow forgotten. My doctor told me how she, as a woman and mother, comforts her patients at the 6-week control visit when they tell her their worries about emotional instability regarding their weight.

 

The reason why I’m telling you this now, is because we have a situation again. :) There is a glitch in the system, uncertainty, and a sinking feeling in my stomach when I look in the mirror. I’ve been over this (a million times), and that’s exactly why I hate it when it rears its ugly head. :)

 

1986. KSI (Central Sport Association), gym, my code name: potato sack. Obviously it was not my idea, the coach gave me the honors. I saw everyone else as slim and flexible, except for myself. Looking at the pictures from back then, I realize I was tall and thin. Actually, the only difference between me and my teammates is that I was kind of shorter. That’s so not how it felt. I was 6.

 

1998. College applications and the years that followed. Among all the athletes, swimmers, basketball players and dancers the same feeling kept creeping up again...I’m short, heavy and chunky.

 

2011. Postpartum, very stubborn 10-15 extra kilos. Hiding from the camera, the feeling that the stroller and the baby offers an explanation about my looks. I would fancy not bumping into anyone on the streets, thank you very much.

 

2013. After giving birth to my twins. I’ve done this before, no surprises here. Yes, yes, I know it sucks, but it’s nothing set in stone, so just chill. Clothing size 44, total lethargy. No goals or any sort of motivation. Sure, I do some exercises: twice a week I bring one of my kids to physiotherapy. She is at least 20 kilos, so the good news is that he covers the saggy boobs and wrinkly belly. Well, at least for now.

 

2015. Right after the new beginning, completely renewed inside and out. Changed what can be changed or accepted what can not. Peace. For real. Acceptance. These are not just empty words.

 

2016. Becoming the body positivity ambassador for Coca Cola! But...I mean..I’m just a soft, fairly regular mother of three kids. I accepted the invitation, and right before stepping on stage for the first time, I totally understood why the filter-abusing photoshoppers do what they do. Do I have the right to be on stage with this body? How important is my body, really, I wonder. Is it more important than my message? I caught myself skipping more and more tasty bites as the day of my appearance on stage was approaching. I was looking at older photos of myself from earlier events. Do I belong here? Will they accept me? Are they wondering what I’m even doing there? If a great singer is subject to scrutiny because of her weight, who am I to be among all those young and fit presenters?

 

Since 2017. Let this be a year when I, when all of us, don’t worry about labels. Let’s try to focus on our health rather than how thin we are. Let’s cut ourselves some slack. Our bodies aren’t perfect. Our kids aren’t perfect either but we love them so much! Let’s try to love ourselves too.