Body positivity. It’s great, right? Reclaiming our bodies, challenging unrealistic ‘norms’, loving ourselves unconditionally - it’s all brilliant. But what if after all that, you’re still not quite getting it?
I posted a photo to my Instagram earlier this week, highlighting a few of my thoughts on the matter, accompanied by a photo of me with my 9 month postpartum belly. My ethos with posting is also my mantra - no filter, no judgement, no bullsh*t. It doesn’t seem authentic to keep these thoughts hidden and only post a carefully curated feed of a perfectly charmed life. It’s not accurate. Some days, I absolutely detest the body that pregnancy has left behind.
I’m currently (almost) 10 months postpartum, and I’m still feeling the effects of pregnancy and birth. Nine months to grow a baby, nine months to recover - well, not in this case. My son, River, was born a week before lockdown (the first one), and as a first time mum I should add, I’m not unrealistic. I did not expect for one second that my body would snap back as soon as I’d given birth. I did not at any point expect to look in the mirror and be faced with the size 10 curvy but toned, perky and energetic gal I used to be. I knew there would be some signs of wear and tear - some would be temporary, some may take a little longer to fade, and some might be my new normal.
In the early days, I marvelled at the new body, squishing soft parts that had been rock hard and stretched to capacity just a few days before, feeling my way through my new skin as though it wasn’t mine. But as time went on, routines were set, and lockdowns were lived, the novelty wore off. What was left was a woman I didn’t recognise anymore. And I tried so hard to embrace her, because I thought that was what I should be doing. But it was hard. She was a stranger, and she was upsetting me, so in return I wasn’t kind to her.
The message is clear. Love yourself!
I can appreciate my body and everything it has given me, while still wanting to better myself. I can mourn my pre-baby stomach, and still be grateful that it grew my baby. I can want to it back into my favourite pair of jeans, without it being because I’m conforming to unrealistic and dangerous beauty standards (also, buying new jeans in a pandemic when you cannot try them on is a bloody nightmare, 0/10 do not recommend). I can want to shift some of the weight I gained beyond my control during pregnancy, without it making me fatphobic.
I can see my body and recognise its worth, but not recognise myself in it at all. I can still be awe of my body and wish it looked different.
The response to my post was overwhelming. There were just so many mums, who like me, felt a pressure to accept and love their bodies - just another pressure to add to our lists of course. The feeling that you should love your body because it gave you your baby. That other women would kill to be in your shoes. That there are people in worse shape who would love their body. That their feelings weren’t valid, because they still fit the traditional ‘standard’. Just to be clear, your experience is your experience, and the thoughts and feelings that you have about it are absolutely valid. Please don’t let anybody try to dismiss them because they don’t seem all that bad, or they aren’t deemed to be important. We cannot tell people that ‘it’s ok to not be ok’ and then remind them that someone else has it worse and they should be grateful for what they have. Gratitude has to be learned and accepted on ones own terms. To have it forced upon you is dangerous and damaging.
There doesn’t seem to be a place for those who have given birth in the body positive movement if they aren’t plus size, but I’d argue they have every right to be there, whether they gave birth three days ago or three years ago. The changes that mums' bodies undertake are rapid and extreme, with very little they can do to control it, and the effects can be incredibly long lasting. The changes can also go a lot deeper than just size or shape - dealing with scars, hidden pain, incontinence, and a whole host of issues depending on how pregnancy and birth was for them. For example, my stretch marks are fading, as I knew that they would. My stomach hangs down, and even if I manage to shift a few pounds, I’m not entirely sure that it won’t just hang lower and emptier. My hips are still in pain almost daily, sometimes to the point where I can’t carry my own child, or climb a flight of stairs without clutching at the bannister as though I’m scaling a building. And due to covid and a stunning lack of local resources, I’m still suffering. My situation goes much deeper than just wanting to tone up in time for summer, and I think when pressed, many mums would tell you the same.
My main reason for posting was to show other mums that they aren’t alone. It’s so easy to scroll through social media, wishing for something that someone else has, because we’re only presented with the best of the best. The best meals, the nicest outfits, the memories worth remembering - holidays, nights out (god, remember holidays and nights out?). And I’m not calling on people to suddenly start live streaming picking up a pint of milk, or posting a photo of beans on toast out of a bowl because all the plates are dirty - although to be honest, that is content I am 100% here for. But just remember not to judge yourself by another mum’s standard. And that goes for everything, home, meals, fashion, whatever your poison. You just do you, and you get there in your own time.
So I wish I had a magic answer for body positivity. Overall, I would still call myself body positive. I have absolutely no shame. I’ll show it off until the cows come home, and I’m still incredibly proud of what it has achieved. But the journey is long, complicated, and personal- totally unique to me. And yours will be to you. I urge you to check out the comments on my original insta post - you’ll see that you aren’t on your own, and that every mum has a story to tell.
Power to you mama.
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