Every single day my beans blow my mind. They’re so happy with their life, so content in knowing how much they’re loved and how important they are. I don’t want them to ever lose that feeling.
Since me and the husband went our separate ways, I’ve missed the feeling of being loved. Obvs we put a lot of effort in to get the love back…but blah blah blah… that didn’t happen.
I’ve always had issues with what I look like, I was never convinced that he found me attractive but I never doubted that he loved me. Despite me getting drunk on gin and throwing a soaking wet and freezing cold towel on his face (when he was asleep), not shaving my legs (yet alone my fanny) for the first three/six months of being a mum and consistently telling him that I was going for a “quick shower” when actually I was getting back into bed and going to sleep. He still loved me and I knew it. I miss that feeling.
I have other feelings now that I had missed, so it’s not all doom and gloom; but the body hang ups have only got worse. I now have the potential of another human being seeing my skin and judging me on it and that shit is terrifying. So fuck it, I’ve included a photo of me in some pretty sexy spanx because it got me thinking…
If you had a magic wand and could change everything about yourself, would that make you happier? Or, do you think that you’d then end up focusing on something else that you didn’t like? Do you ever think we can actually like ourselves 100 per cent?
What I’d do with my wand:
Number one, I’d make my size 16 body a size 10. Obvs.
Number two, these saggy boobs fed two tiny humans, but if I slouch I can tuck my teeny tiny nipples into my belly button. I’d defo put them back up to where they’re supposed to be.
(Yes, this is me in spanx. Yes my room is a shit tip. I’m proving a point*)
C, come on we all know. It’s the chin. The “strong jaw line”.
D, would probably be addressing my small head. Although, if my body was smaller then maybe my head wouldn’t look so out of proportion. Same goes for my feet, my feet look like small dolls feet on a yeti.
I’ll stop at number five because the last thing I want you lot thinking is that I hate myself. I grew two people and have kept them alive for three years, I work full time and maintain a home for us. I’m a fucking hero. Anyway…number five is the amount of hair I have. My chin, my tash, the snail trail I got whilst pregnant that still needs to be regularly plucked…the list is endless and I’d get rid of it all (not the head hair, that can stay).
But like I say, would I only then notice things about me that I haven’t before? Do I have really long arms? Is my belly button really deep? Do my toenails grow in an odd shape?
I guess that disgusting cliché that makes me want to rip my own skin off is true, I need to love myself before I’ll believe anyone else can love me (throws up in own mouth).
A few of you (well, the three of you that read my posts) gave me some advice following my last post on being kinder to myself. I am trying them, everyday. I have made some brave but (gut wrenchingly) hard decisions lately and I’m doing all I can to be more positive and generally kinder to myself.
We don’t need a magic wand, we don’t need to list our flaws. We just need to understand why we feel that way and the look in the mirror and remind ourselves how fucking awesome we are. Remember what it was like to be a child when you just loved every inch of yourself.
No matter what your achievements have been today, you may not have even had the strength to get out of bed, but I can guarantee you that someone in this world smiled today because you are in it.
*fucking hell there is a photo of me on the internet of me in spanx. Fuuuuuck!!