I was recently brave enough to go shopping for a swimsuit. The expectations were not overly high, but I hadn’t brought one on our trip and thought it would be nice to hit the jacuzzi a time or two while here. As most women would probably agree, staring at one’s own scantily-clad body under the intense scrutiny of flourescent lighting is never appealing, and the opportunity for anxiety and self-loathing increases exponentially after giving birth to tiny humans.
So here I was, noticing the double butt, rippled cellulite and soft tummy before me, and I had a flash back to when I was a size 1. And, I smiled.
You see, I have always been a decent, proportional size – I generally watch what I eat, historically have been very physically active (not so much these days) – and have never struggled to overcome much more than the obligatory college pounds or the baby bulge. But there was a season I found myself a solid 3 sizes smaller than my usual self, and in the moment, I was thrilled. (My, how numbers matter to us!)
Food tends to be my comfort in times of stress, but there was a time when I gave up everything altogether. Somehow I managed to consume enough to nurse a healthy baby girl, but I was absolutely wasting away. I was so numb, so absolutely destroyed – it was lower than depression. My husband had left me for another, I had two tiny people, no job, no home, no hope… As my hope dwindled, so did my body.
Today, my flaws represent two more babies, a new love, a healthier outlook. While not perfect, and by some standards, completely un-sexy, the body I have today is a testimony to how far I’ve come. Never perfect, but always being perfected, God is slowly healing and restoring who I am and what I have.
So, while some might long for a size 1 frame, I am happy in the skin I’m in today. There is nothing in me that wants to go back; everything that wants to move forward, flaws and all…