Sep 22, 2015

In case I never see you again...

Too many women spend too much time hating on their bodies. I used to be one. When I was 19 I had a an eating disorder, and didn't get my period for months. I simply was not eating. My case was not the norm. I never had a weight problem, I was just so bombarded with the media telling me to be skinny (and too young to know better) that I figured whatever I was wasn't good enough. That if everyone had to be skinny, that must mean I should be skinnier. I remember wearing my new coat that winter, and thanks to my newfound body dysmorphia, I chose to freeze rather than attempt zipping it up. I was convinced it wouldn't fit. A year or two later when I tried it, it zipped of course, with plenty of room to spare. I was small to begin with, and even smaller at the time.

Soon after, I moved to NYC. I rebelled. I'd drink many sugary alcoholic drinks in the evening and end the night with a giant burrito. I'd start the next morning with a caramel macchiato and cinnamon coffee cake. I stuffed myself. My diet had never been so out of control. I felt myself purposely rebelling, and for the first time in my life, I gained weight. I remember going home that first Christmas, excited to get more of my clothes to take back with me, only nothing fit. Luckily my break was long, I spent time working out, and the weight began to shed. It came off completely over the next few months. It was short lived.

I spent much of my youth a perfectionist. Over the years I slowly eased up on myself. I would was still aware of what I was putting into my body, but over time I stopped counting calories and restricting. In fact, the last few years I've paid no attention whatsoever. As in I just eat what I want when I want (just not out of control like in NYC). I'm no longer worried about it. I just live my life. I love food. I love sweets. And I've realized how lucky I am. I don't have a weight issue. I stay fairly small, and fairly the same. I don't have to stress about calories, and I don't have to be a slave in the gym.

Over the years I've come to appreciate my body. It's what houses my soul, and lets me experience this life. I saw loved ones pass away, and felt honored to still be here in the healthy body I'd been dealt. Thank you, body. I met the love of my life, and felt humbled I am in a body right now on earth to meet him and experience this love. Thank you, body. I got pregnant. Our son is growing in me right now. I am creating life. Thank you, body.

But. Will I be okay if I never see my old body again? What does pregnancy, childbirth, and recovery have in store for me? Will I look the same? What if I don't? I didn't gain any weight during my first trimester, but it's coming. How will I feel? It's the first time in my life in years (while I'm aware of the miracle that is happening) that I feel out of control over my body, and what's in store feels foreign. I admit, it's a little scary. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel concerned about impeding weight gain and body changes, and I'm also sad at how shallow this worry is. It's strange. On one hand, I never knew life could feel this elevated, magical, and right. It's another level. On the other hand, I don't know yet how to wrap my head around this fear of what's to come.

I'm full of contradictions. I want to see it. I want to see my bump. I want to know the baby is growing, and feel him move. But what will I really look like?

What if I don't feel comfortable in my own skin? 
What if I don't feel like myself? 

I know all is temporary. It's already going by so quickly. I do think I'm good at accepting. I've been so grateful for my body as I've gotten older, I hope it's tenfold once I truly experience what it's going to do for myself and my husband.

So, I wanted a place to document the old me. The me that I've been for (almost) all of my life this far. I swear I'm not trying to be annoying, or self indulgent, or brag. I just want to remember, in case I never see this me again.

Maybe I'm scared to lose what I finally learned to love so much.

I don't believe in regret, but if I did, it would be that I didn't always love and appreciate my body throughout my entire life. I hope and long for this to carry forward into the unknown.

Winter 2015, I had been sick and hadn't been able to eat much. 

Summer 2015 

                                                                    Summer 2015

                                                                       May 2015

                                                                      May 2015

                                                                    August 2015


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