Body image

When I was 11 yrs old, my mother told me about a nightmare she had. We were on a family vacation, eating breakfast at one of the restaurants. Looking right at me, she told me about how in her dream I was older and overweight (I think the number she gave was 250 lbs). In her dream she was crying and she asked me how I could allow myself to degenerate in that manner. My supposed response? "But Mom, I'm eating healthy. See? I'm eating a banana."

For as long as I can remember, I've hated how I've looked. I remember as a young girl thinking I was ugly, with all the girls at school being so much prettier than me. Looking back, a lot of this had to do with feelings of rejection from my parents and being unlovable. Hence it wasn't a surprise that I was overweight as a teenager. Both my parents were very critical of my weight and what I ate, to the point that my parents purchased a lockbox to control consumption of sweets. Yet, just like anything is life, the more I stressed about my weight and appearance, the heavier I became. And the heavier I became, the more unlovable and ugly I felt to all the world.

A lot of that changed when I left home. Specifically when I moved to Seattle and into the Mint House. One day I came home to find all my roommates staring at my side of the cupboards. "Why are you eating that stuff?" they asked, referring all the low-cal and processed foods. Within a few weeks, I found my eating habits had changed, with me ditching the diet foods and instead embracing butter, eggs and full fat but less-processed foods. In addition, we ate as a community, cooking for one another and sharing what we made. It was also around this time that I met Grey and he included me with his roommate as they explored cooking.

Wouldn't you know, with the pressure off of calorie counting and limiting food, I found myself not obsessing. And with that, the weight dropped. Later on, as my dabbling into rock climbing became more consistent and I found myself focusing less on how I looked and more on developing my core so that I could climb the harder routes, I found also that how I viewed my body changed. The hatred melted away and, dare I say it, I got to a point that I actually liked how strong I felt and what it could do.

And then Grey and I decided to start a family.

Like many, infertility made me doubt my body. Where as before I had a trust in its basic function, I found myself soul disconnected with the flesh and bone cage that was continually failing me and Grey. With this disconnect grew hatred and criticism. A shattered body image where I found myself torturing this vessel in hopes that somehow it would behave. Even after I became pregnant, I continued with the pain, gladly administering shots of PIO and Lovenox to keep my body at bay from harming the Beats. All the while hating it for threatening my babies. Holding it at bay for as long as I could.

11 months later, this dysfunctional relationship still exists. In a way, breastfeeding has actually exacerbated this as I struggle to make sure I'm not only producing enough milk for the Beats, but also because I've actually gained weight. At my heaviest in December, I weighed 190 lbs, which on my 5ft 6 inch frame was quite a bit and made it not only difficult to move but also made me ache. Starting back at work helped with this, as I've shed a number of pounds because I'm focusing on pumping and getting work done. Still, I'm not back at a weight that I want to be at. Add in the sagging boobs, the fact my stomach is still pudgy and the wider butt, and I'm far from where I'd like to be body wise.

So, like many, I've been trying to rectify this. Grey bought me a Fitbit and has been so supportive of me getting in my daily quota of steps. He's also been amazing with being the family cook and providing healthy meals. But I've been finding that the old dialogue I abandoned so long ago has been running through my head. That when I see myself in the mirror, I've been focusing on the fat that has accumulated and how distorted my body is. That the self-hatred has been coming back.

Frankly, it's fucking exhausting.

Two weeks ago, I decided I had it. Taking a mental health day, I enlisted a friend to accompany me to a local Korean spa where we spent a couple of hours in the saunas and heated baths. For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to stop with the negative dialogue and just be with myself. And it was so nice. Nice not to criticize or be comparing. Nice to finally just be one with myself. An additional moment of clarity came with the Fremont Solstice Parade this past weekend, where the Solstice Cyclists reminded me that people indeed do come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Not only is that okay, but it's something that should be celebrated.

So here's the deal. I've decided that its time to stop warring with my body. To stop the criticism and hatred that manifested itself over the past 4 yrs. It doesn't mean that I'm throwing out all my good habits and resigning myself to being unhealthy. Actually it's quite the opposite. But the current dialogue needs to end, not only for myself but also because I don't want to teach the Beats to view themselves this way. Thing is, I need help. And I'm asking for it.

Here's my current situation: I currently weigh 168 lbs.  For being 5'6" that's still too much (and I do feel it as I don't move as fast and smoothly as I would like). But I also need to acknowledge that 11 months ago I gave birth to twins. In addition, a lot of this weight is due to fertility treatments (I started this pregnancy at 163 lbs) and the emotional turmoil. Though there are a few cases of people losing weight after injecting themselves with hormones and managing all the stress, the overwhelming trend is usually the opposite.

The other thing is that I need to reset my definition of body image. That contrary to what society would like everyone to believe, bouncing back doesn't happen magically, if ever. It's very likely that my boobs will forever be saggy, my belly slightly pudgy. That my hips will stay wider and my arms more flappy than what I care for. But these same boobs are also currently feeding my babies. They also have this magical ability to calm a screaming Beat and even a stressed out Grey. That pudgy stomach once held two babies and now functions as a great landing pad for a bouncing infant. My hips may be wide, but they also afford me the stability to carry two infants up a flight of stairs (or two). And though there are many pockets of cellulite and scars, there's also stories behind all of it.

In short, this body has been more than a cage for my soul. In many moments, it's been a vehicle for life. And remembering that, celebrating that is the key that will help me lose those 30 lbs. Not the self-deprivation, negative talk and criticism.

Now I need help remembering it.