In the beginning it was exciting and magical, everything was fresh and new. My body took me through the prepubescent years running, jumping and climbing trees. As I grew I took on greater challenges including swimming, basketball, and baseball.
As I got older I began to take my body for granted. I stopped playing the sports that I had enjoyed so much. I didn’t appreciate my body and what it had, and could do. I started modeling which lead to comparing and evaluating my body with unreasonable criteria. I objectified it, and I let what other people thought of it slowly change the way I thought of it. I started to resent it and treated it with disrespect. If all of that wasn’t enough I started poisoning my body by smoking.
Naturally this led to a low esteem, which after a series of poor decisions, led me into a relationship with a person that didn’t respect me. In that relationship my mind crumbled as my body healed from bruises and broken bones.
Overtime and with maturity I learned to respect and care for my body again. Caring for my body is also caring for my mind and my spirit.
Over the last 3 months I have been getting to know my post baby body. It’s softer and thicker than it used to be, it feels strange and unfamiliar, much stranger than my pregnant body.
I have less patience for my post baby body. Between the collection of form fitting outfits sitting in my closet, and my persona as a fitness leader, I find myself putting unnecessary pressure on myself to return to my pre-baby body. I constantly have to remind myself that it took 9 months to grow a human life, its only fare to give it at least that amount of time to recover. Plus due to my fall at 37 weeks my body is also recovering from an injury.
Instead of being so hard on myself I am trying to focusing on my bodies humbling abilities: