Before I even start this post, I want to let all readers know that they are absolutely NOT allowed to leave comments telling me that I am beautiful. I know it sounds weird, but you will understand as I go on. I am sharing my innermost workings just for catharsis. Or in case it somehow makes someone else, who has similar feelings, feel better. I DO NOT want to be placated or validated in any way! So be warned. . .
So, I am having my postpartum identity crisis. It has happened after each kid. Only this time I'm 30, so I feel like it's worse. I think pregnancy makes me uglier each time. It has done weird things to my skin. It has changed the texture of my hair. I think it actually has made my nose bigger. And, of course, I don't even have to talk about what it has done to my body! I'm just feeling hopelessly ugly! And I know it is so shallow. I wish I was so evolved and mature that I didn't care. . .but, I do.
I only really have 3 shirts and 3 pair of pants that fit me. My weight loss has kind of plateaued, and I'm sure the holidays didn't help any. So that is frustrating. It will probably take a major effort to get off the last 10 (or ideally 15) pounds. They are going to be more stubborn now that I'm 30!
It's not like I've ever had a Bikini Body, so I don't have unrealistic expectations, I just want to fit in my clothes.
I just have issues about beauty, I always have. Growing up I was not a cute child. My "awkward" stage lasted from about 5-17. I struggled with my weight in high school and college. And I just felt like an ugly duckling compared to my pretty sisters. I think it's a red-head thing, people kind of treat you like you're ugly just for having red hair and fair skin.
I eventually blossomed and learned to make the most of what I was working with. I think I became the most beautiful after I met Michael. You know, like he was my Johnny Lingo and made me feel like a 10 cow woman, so I became one. (Or maybe more like 8 cows, in my case.) Anyway, I even felt good enough about myself to dabble in modeling. Wow! I look at that now and am so amazed that I did that. But, then I look at those pictures and feel like I've fallen so far from modelesque to frumpy Mom.
I guess I'm not a total loss. I enjoy a lot of things about beauty. I love make-up, and hair, and clothes and all that fun girlie stuff. I haven't given up altogether. I try to do my best to enhance the good and hide the bad. It is fun. For the most part, I don't do it for approval or self-esteem, I do it because I enjoy it and it makes me feel good. And there are plenty of days when I don't care and I will go out in public in jeans and a hoodie with no make-up.
It just feels like in the last year (spent pregnant and postpartum) I have felt doomed to feel ugly forever. Like I can't undo the damage done by pregnancy and aging.
Mike recently got back in touch with some of his old girlfriends on Facebook, and objectively speaking, they are prettier than me. It is so immature of me to even think like that. I wish I was so much more evolved than that, comfortable and secure in the love I share with my husband. But, no, I'm lame and insecure and start worrying that he wishes he would've married one of those prettier girls instead.
Now, I feel really exposed after sharing this with the world. It's okay. When I write it out like this I realize how silly it really is. Sometimes when it just swims around and around in my head so long it just gets bigger and bigger. I don't have low self-esteem. I feel pretty good about myself, in general. I have had so many health problems in the past, that I truly do understand that having a healthy body is more important than having a hot body.
My life's experiences really have taught me a lot. I look forward to helping my own daughter to have a positive self-image. It's just that every once in awhile (and more often after pregnancy), my inner teenager shows up and starts messing with me. I'm sure I'm not the only one. It seems like, as women, we are doomed to the pitfalls of worrying about weight, worrying about beauty, worrying about aging, etc. I just hope that I can find that place where I can see the big picture more easily--reconcile my beauty and worth as a daughter of God, and a mother of 3 amazing souls, to how I feel about myself on a daily basis. I wish I could have more righteous priorities, and not waste my energies on thinking about how big my nose is (something over which I ultimately have no control) or what else I can do to finally be "pretty."
It's definitely worse postpartum. I bet a good night's sleep makes everyone not only feel, but actually look more beautiful! =)
11 comments:
Amen, sista!! I think I'll just copy your post and put it on my blog. I guess I have an inner teenager as well. I'm not asking for much, right? Is it a lot to ask to feel good in my own skin?! I don't have the excuse of postpartum though. My baby is almost three.
Hang in there and know that you are not alone and I don't think you are shallow. I always love that you vent these things....then I don't have to!!
Love ya!
Okay, I promise I won't tell you that you're beautiful (besides, you already know I think you're a total hottie). I can understand where you are coming from, sister! This is my first baby since hitting 30, too. I look in the mirror and wonder how come more of my front sticks out than my backside. It ain't pretty! I would suggest we take our babies and go get lunch together but in our case, maybe we'd be better if we just used that time to work out. Wanna come play with my Wii Fit? :)
Ditto. :)
Guess what... I saw you at church yesterday (before reaing this) And I stand by what I said!!!:) And by the way if mike wanted those other girls, he would have married one of them! He wanted you!!!!!! Good luck and know that you are beautiful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
sorry didn't spell check that is suppost to say (before reading this)
Oh Tiff, you have a window to my soul! Sadly, I think I've discovered that most women feel this exact same way--no matter how beautiful/hot bodied they are! I'm going to send you a couple of pics from my third trimester...actually, I'll prob post about it cause I've been meaning to for a while now. There is nothing more hideous than my face transformed by pregnancy. It's not just typical swelling and skin changes. People have literally gasped out loud upon seeing me in these pics. This issue is going to be one of the first bones I pick with Heavenly Father after this life. How shallow is THAT? ha! Anyway, we're all in this together sister!
Let me just say once again, you are not alone in your feelings. As everyone else who has commented has said, I feel the same way. Some days I feel completely lost, like the old "before kids" Anne is trapped inside and can't find her way out of the new Anne that constantly has bags in many places that they shouldn't be. So here's hoping that the old versions of ourselves that we wish would return will have the courage to start reappearing soon!
I loved all the comments from your sweet friends. You are loved A LOT. I love you too! I know EXACTLY how you feel and my baby is 7 months now, so I guess my postpartum should be over by now. Thank you for having the guts to vent what I just hold inside.
Just think how much worse it could of been if you had triplets:) That can make you feel all better.
Love this post.
Your blog is entertaining and original...keep it up girl!!
Ditto to all of it, your post, the comments, being 30--aaahh. I think about this stuff all the time, and why girls struggle so much and wonder what I can do to help my own three girls to love themselves. I love your honest openness and your way with words. I also wish I could say something contrary to the rules you posted in the first paragraph, but don't want to break the rules of your own blog.
Tiff, we all have these thoughts. Every one of us. And those who say they don't, not only are insecure like the rest of us but they are big fat liars too. I was 25 pounds heavier on my mission and used to stare at myself in the mirror and cry. I came to the point that I accepted the probability of not making it back to pre-mission me and that I would be heinous forever. I made peace with the idea, labeling myself "fat'n happy." I had deja vu of this whole ordeal while prego, except with more stress, more acne, and hemorrhoids. At least we can talk about it and make fun of ourselves. It's cathartic!
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