A different flashback Friday.

I always joke that if I had been more confident with my body during my college years, I would have been foot loose and fancy free! I would have walked around buck nekkid, proudly displaying what the my mama gave me and sowed my wild oats. If I had listened to what my older friends told me - "You're going to look back and wish you had appreciated your looks!" -  rather than wishing I was a size 2 or 0, I would've loved myself more.
I don't know. I'm politically liberal but, regarding sex, I've always been very conservative. By that I mean my own going-ons. It was hard for me to separate the physical act with the emotional ties. I equated it with love. Believe me, I'm not saying this is right. I think it's a much more fun outlook to keep the two separated! But that's just how it is. I'm somewhat a serial monogamist.
But surprise! That's not what this post is about. Because I would have, however, had no problem flaunting my bod if I had only been more confident. And by confident, I mean not giving an eff of what other people thought about me. I had (yes, past tense) been blessed with a flat stomach. Not a hard stomach, mind you, but flat. How lucky was I?  Unfortunately, I couldn't really appreciate it at the time because I wish it had been flatter and smaller.
Now, at 36 years of age, I'm much more sympathetic of my body. Sure, I brush my fingers over what I think look like angry stretch marks, sigh, and wish they would disappear. But I also think, "my poor body." I've had four pregnancies - one cesarean section, two laparoscopic surgeries, and one vaginal birth. Oh, I have also breastfed one baby and am currently breastfeeding another. My word. Poor, poor body. I've fed myself crap, fed myself good stuff, but mostly fed my body crap. It wasn't until recently I cared about wholesome, nutritious, organic food. I've stepped it up quite a bit, thank goodness.
I have been so harsh, so judgmental. I've unfairly compared my body to the bodies of movie stars, starlets, pinups, beautiful family members and friends ... why compare at all? I've hated, HATED, my poor body when all it has has done is gone through so much. My self-loathing wasn't just about appearance but I've also been so angry about the miscarriages. How dare my body not do what it's been made to do!
But I've gotten a lot better. I've still got plenty of things to work on but I think the first was to eat better. Going hand in hand with that is to be kinder and more understanding. I know my body will never be a size 2 or 0 unless I'm depressed (it's true.) I now have a realistic goal to shoot for which has been deemed by medical professionals as healthy. So important! I also am proud of what my body has done. We've come back from two full-term births. The strain my body endured! Not to mention being shattered, seriously, shattered from the last birth. I'd say it took about six months for everything to heal internally. Poor, poor body.
I'm still hovering about 3-4 lbs from my goal weight. I get frustrated and angry that I haven't made it yet but I also know that my body is fitting clothes better than it has in a long, long time. I also know that I haven't exactly restricted myself from goodies like chocolate so how much is it my mind rather than my body? My body can only do so much by itself.
I know that I will backslide. I know that I will get very angry and upset with myself, my body. But I hope I will revisit this post and remember to be kind. Be forgiving. This body has done so much for me.
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I was going to wait until I reached my goal weight but then decided, what the heck! The belly ring is back in. One might think, "She's too old to have a belly ring!" To hell with that, I say! It was either I keep it out and have a small scar or put it back in and rock it. I decided to rock it.