Every once in a while, I get really bummed about my body, especially after having my baby. Realistically, though, I've always struggled with my weight. I diet, I exercise, nothing...unless I go to the extremes of starving myself, which I did as a teenager, or working out in basically all my free time, which I did before my wedding.
My mom jokingly calls it the "fat gene," which is quite true. There are larger women on both sides of my family, and when I started pre-puberty at around age 9 is when I chunked out. I have even recently tried diet and heavy exercise. When I stepped on the scale a few weeks ago, I saw a five pound change. I GAINED five pounds.
As I was attempting to find something to wear for my sister-in-law's birthday tonight, I was lamenting my mama-body. By breasts, butt, and especially my stomach hang down. I changed my clothes at least four times, trying to look thinner. I saw a photo from my wedding, and was a bit jealous of the me in that picture. Well-rested, vibrant hair, and thirty-five pounds lighter. I just wanted to look like that girl again.
Then that little voice in the back of my head spoke up. "Of course you don't look the same. You're NOT the same."
There it was. The light went off. I am not the same as I was two and a half years ago. I'm not even the same person. As I put on the first outfit I had tried, I smiled. I traded a few things, for sure, but I got the beautiful little boy I have, and I would do it again. I'm not the same; I'm better.