The New Me

Here's a radical thought. Maybe I should accept my 34 year old body for what it is. Even more radical--maybe all women should do this. Now, that would be a revolution, my friends.**

I've been thinking a lot about this lately. Especially since it's been 14 months since Ian popped out, and I continue to examine my stomach for signs of going back to normal. Whatever that is. And then it hit me (well, kind of came to me over several months). THIS is the new normal.

I could fight it tooth and nail. I could start running 5 days a week, lifting weights, dieting (heaven forbid). I could spend my copious free time obsessing and worrying and looking in the mirror. I used to do that. Maybe I could do that again.

But I don't want to. It was hard to admit this to myself. That I did not want to strive for physical perfection as I have for most of the last 22 years. Yoga has helped. It has opened up a relationship between me and my body. I actually like her some days. This is progress.

I am just starting to realize that my body is the outward expression of what it has done. What we've accomplished. Birthing two children. Living. Eating. All those lowly, dirty, basic things that human bodies do. I used to hate those things. I used to try to push them down, cage them up.

I hear so many women, mothers or not, continually degrading their bodies. Themselves. Our Bodies, Ourselves. I used to think this was normal. Then I met a few women, here and there, who never talked this way. Who seemed to have so much energy to give to other things in their lives. I was blown away.

So, I've decided to become one of these revolutionary women. Those who eat to be full, eat to enjoy, to share. Who move their bodies for enjoyment and health. Who have stretch marks and flabby abs. Who don't aspire to rock hard, synthetic outer shells. Because if our bodies are the outward expression of living our lives, I want mine to be soft, warm, open. The way my children like it.

** I really hope no one is reading this blog, because if they are, things are about to get kind of personal. Consider yourself warned...