I rock, size 00 or not
I had a special photo shoot done with Gretchen McFarland Photography for a surprise birthday present for the Pilot. Family members may not want to look. I have always been a pretty confident person. I also
don’t have a lot of shame and for the most part could care less how people think of me. I was a ballet dancer & loved being on stage. When I had to quit ballet for a hip injury, I went to running. Running kept me in shape. I was running normally about 8 miles every other day and was planning on running the Marine Corps Marathon in Oct of 08. As soon as I felt better after twisting my knee by stepping on a dog, I found out I was pregnant and stopped running. This August will mark three years since my last run (I wasn’t medically cleared to run after giving birth to the Hoo, due to the same hip problems). I loved my body when running. I had muscles & definition. Abs. Great thighs. My husband loved me too. I like being in shape. Two kids later, yeah, not so much. I am still about 7-10lbs off from where I was pre-pregnancy.
-off subject tangent- Why can’t thin people be bothered by their own fat or unhealthiness? I feel so much like that if you aren’t overweight, you have no right to complain. And yes, thin people never have to go through the ridicule or whatnot that overweight people do. But losing weight should be more about just looking good; it should be about feeling good. Healthy. I have no doubt in my mind that there are some people my height with 20 extra lbs on them that can run a mile faster. I am so not in shape right now! And I hate that. -end rant-
I had ordered what I was going to wear weeks ago. When I tried it on before the shoot, I hated it all. I hated the way I looked. I didn’t like how some pieces cut into my now softer body. I felt like the
bottoms made my hips seem even wider, my butt bigger. I felt fat and unhealthy, far from the usual confident person I am. I wanted to be perfect for Pilot, back down to my size 00, with a rock hard body.
But I wasn’t. I was a tired mom of 2 who hasn’t been able to make it to the gym & who also gave birth just 3 months ago. I was thinking of Heidi Klum, who walked the runway what, 6 weeks after she gave birth?
Where were her hips? Where was her line from ribcage to hips dividing the softness of belly & loose skin from pregnancy? Or are Hollywood moms so above the rest of us that it never happens to them?
It isn’t that. I am a full time mom, in all ways. I don’t have a nanny (or hell, even a husband around) who I can pass the kids off to while I go work out. I don’t have a chef preparing me fresh, healthy meals every day. I am lucky if I can grab a piece of toast & some yogurt for breakfast. I live off sticks of Colby jack cheese, coffee, almond M&Ms, fruit & nuts throughout the day. I don’t have the money to spend on liposuction, spa treatments, and specialty creams…so why am I letting the constant swarm of media shatter my self-confidence? Why, when I am so vastly different from the women we see in media am I paying any attention to them? I am real, not some airbrushed, snipped, plastic, vapid woman on the cover of Star or Vogue. And more importantly, what would my girls think if they saw me like this? I never say anything negative about my appearance around them. I don’t want them to grow up thinking they have to be perfect in their looks, hearing their mother’s moaning over her own perceived imperfections. I want them to have a positive body image and to realize that they are beautiful no matter what size they fit in. The perfection they are swarmed with isn’t real, and I plan to do my best to make sure they know what goes into making the images they see. Real will always be more beautiful. The human body is a work of art. I don’t want them sitting in front of the mirror in their prom dress nearly in tears over the way it is cut, or being ashamed of their nakedness, picking apart their body until there is nothing left to love. Their body is a
gift from God and I want them to appreciate, use, and love every part of them, from the brain in their head down to their toes. I want them to shout proudly, “I love myself, no matter what Barbie/Vogue/gossip
magazines/E! Channel/advertisements tell me I should be!” The mass media has done such an excellent job of telling women that we suck, our bodies are inferior, and we need this weight loss fad, this cream,
this make up, these shoes, these pills, etc to make us this ‘perfect’ shallow shell of what we really are. We need to celebrate our bodies, not berate ourselves for perfection that is really just a false ideal to sell us junk.
I stopped tearing myself apart. I looked at myself in the mirror and said, “Fuck you media.” I rocked at the height of my running/working out days. I rock now. I walked in there wearing my 5-inch patent leather peep toe pumps with pride. I am a woman. I am a mother. And I am damn smokin’ hot, size 00 or not.