I’m Giving Up on Postpartum Body Positivity
I’m tired of not keeping it real.
I thought I could do it. I thought I could accept, even love, my body after baby. I thought I could celebrate the new form my body took after growing and giving life to my new favorite human. I thought I could join the movement. But I can’t. I wish I could, but I just can’t.
I’ve always struggled with my body. I was always hyper aware of what my body looked like in comparison to other girls. While I was never extremely overweight, I was just overweight enough to feel bigger and uglier than the girls and women against whom I pitted myself. (This was also a learned behavior and a practice that was ingrained in me from childhood, but that’s a trauma story for another time.) I’m fairly certain I have a case of undiagnosed body dysmorphia because, if I’m being honest, I’ve never even been ‘fat,’ by whoever’s definition to which I suppose I subscribe.
I’m not fatphobic. I see beauty and value in all bodies of all sizes. I am body positive- I’m positive that other bodies regardless of size or shape are beautiful and worthy. Not mine.
About four years ago, I decided I was going to be positive about my body. To do that, however, I had to do whatever it took to make it a body about which I could be positive. I was working out and eating well…
