I come across as a confident person but I've never had a spectacularly healthy view of my body. For as long as I can remember I've always felt too tall, too large. I probably hit my first growth spurt in 5th grade. I don't remember being overly tall before that. One of my childhood best friends, Sarah, was taller than me in 4th grade. Suddenly in 5th grade I had grown and no one else had. I had growing pains and stretch marks and all my pants were too short. The struggle to find pants long enough for my 37" inseam made me feel like something was wrong with me because I couldn't shop where everyone else could. My shoulders were too broad, my legs too long, my thighs too big, my boobs too small. My proportions didn't fit in mainstream clothing.
When I was little you couldn't get me out of the pool. I would spend entire days, entire summers, in the pool with my best friend, Katherine. My hair would turn green because of all the chlorine. My eyes would burn from not wearing my goggles while diving into the deep end time and time again and playing underwater tag with my friends. When I was little I didn't care what I looked like in a swim suit. I didn't care that my face was puffy and my hair was green. I was living my best summer life.
When I entered middle school I realized I couldn't wear a one piece swim suit anymore because I couldn't find ones long enough for my torso. I tried on tankini after tankini. None of them covered the stretch marks on my hips. High waisted swimsuits weren't a trend yet. I picked out the tankini that was the longest and didn't go back to the pool.
I never showed my mom my stretch marks. I'm sure she knew they were there and didn't care. But I cared. I felt ugly.
I was too tall to be in the front two lines for show choir in high school. This meant that I didn't get to wear tap shoes for our tap number despite the fact that I had several years of tap classes in my arsenal and knew what I was doing (show choir secret - only dancers on the floor wear tap shoes. If everyone on the risers wore tap shoes the sound would echo like crazy). I weighed too much for the regular lifts. I had to have modified lifts choreographed just for me in a back corner somewhere so I wouldn't be as noticed. To a high school girl's heart that is crushing.
I think all women live with insecurities. The problem is that we don't voice them. We live in our heads thinking we are not good enough because we don't look like the women in the magazines (even though we know those women are photo-shopped.) And then that feeling turns into self pity which leads to self acceptance that nothing you do will change your shape so you don't try. I lived in that realm for a long time.
After gaining twenty pounds after my miscarriage I was dangerously close to weighing 200 pounds. I looked in the mirror and said enough is enough. Pity party over. I started keto and started losing weight and gaining muscle. After a month and a half the scale stayed the same but the inches kept falling away. I felt strong. I felt empowered. I felt comfortable in my own skin for one of the first times in my entire life.
Then I got pregnant and I stopped keto due to food aversions and fear about getting enough calcium and other nutrients. I slowly started putting on the weight again. I've now gained back the 16 pounds I lost and then some but I am growing two humans so I feel like 20 pounds is an ok weight gain over the first 4.5 months. In a few months I will weight more than 200 pounds which causes me anxiety. Talking about your weight is not something women ever do. So I guess I'm just writing this to say it's ok that I'm anxious about tipping the scale over the 200 mark. It's ok because I am perfectly and wonderfully made by the Creator of the universe.
I look at my body and I don't recognize it. I have veins and stretch marks showing up already and I'm sure there will be other less than pleasant markers that leave behind a visible sign of my pregnancy. But I'm not ashamed anymore. My body is doing an incredible work and I will stand tall in my 5'11" frame and be proud - I was made to be tall. I am beautiful.
And guess what? You're beautiful, too.
When I was little you couldn't get me out of the pool. I would spend entire days, entire summers, in the pool with my best friend, Katherine. My hair would turn green because of all the chlorine. My eyes would burn from not wearing my goggles while diving into the deep end time and time again and playing underwater tag with my friends. When I was little I didn't care what I looked like in a swim suit. I didn't care that my face was puffy and my hair was green. I was living my best summer life.
When I entered middle school I realized I couldn't wear a one piece swim suit anymore because I couldn't find ones long enough for my torso. I tried on tankini after tankini. None of them covered the stretch marks on my hips. High waisted swimsuits weren't a trend yet. I picked out the tankini that was the longest and didn't go back to the pool.
I never showed my mom my stretch marks. I'm sure she knew they were there and didn't care. But I cared. I felt ugly.
I was too tall to be in the front two lines for show choir in high school. This meant that I didn't get to wear tap shoes for our tap number despite the fact that I had several years of tap classes in my arsenal and knew what I was doing (show choir secret - only dancers on the floor wear tap shoes. If everyone on the risers wore tap shoes the sound would echo like crazy). I weighed too much for the regular lifts. I had to have modified lifts choreographed just for me in a back corner somewhere so I wouldn't be as noticed. To a high school girl's heart that is crushing.
I think all women live with insecurities. The problem is that we don't voice them. We live in our heads thinking we are not good enough because we don't look like the women in the magazines (even though we know those women are photo-shopped.) And then that feeling turns into self pity which leads to self acceptance that nothing you do will change your shape so you don't try. I lived in that realm for a long time.
After gaining twenty pounds after my miscarriage I was dangerously close to weighing 200 pounds. I looked in the mirror and said enough is enough. Pity party over. I started keto and started losing weight and gaining muscle. After a month and a half the scale stayed the same but the inches kept falling away. I felt strong. I felt empowered. I felt comfortable in my own skin for one of the first times in my entire life.
Then I got pregnant and I stopped keto due to food aversions and fear about getting enough calcium and other nutrients. I slowly started putting on the weight again. I've now gained back the 16 pounds I lost and then some but I am growing two humans so I feel like 20 pounds is an ok weight gain over the first 4.5 months. In a few months I will weight more than 200 pounds which causes me anxiety. Talking about your weight is not something women ever do. So I guess I'm just writing this to say it's ok that I'm anxious about tipping the scale over the 200 mark. It's ok because I am perfectly and wonderfully made by the Creator of the universe.
I look at my body and I don't recognize it. I have veins and stretch marks showing up already and I'm sure there will be other less than pleasant markers that leave behind a visible sign of my pregnancy. But I'm not ashamed anymore. My body is doing an incredible work and I will stand tall in my 5'11" frame and be proud - I was made to be tall. I am beautiful.
And guess what? You're beautiful, too.
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| 19 weeks - halfway point! |
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| 20 weeks |
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ReplyDeleteeadonnaDecember 10, 2018 at 11:34 PM
DeleteErin, I do not diminish your post not your feelings in any way. And you are very correct in saying that all women have their body insecurities.
When I was young, I was short and skinny. (Still short today. ��) I grew up in a poorish neighborhood - so it was particularly hurtful when someone teased me saying, "What's the matter? Don't your parents feed you?" I'll never forget the look on my mom's face when I told her. The girl at school was just saying something random to tease me. But my mom was insulted, as though the girl was accusing my parents that they didn't feed me enough because their money was tight. And that was never the case- I was simply a picky eater.
I began Kindergarten at 4 years old. Being small to begin with, I looked like a three-year old, which wasn't easy, as you could imagine. I can't tell you how many times I was called "midget," "dwarf," or "elf." It was easy to pick on the little girl because she was an easy target.
Even though I was somewhat shy (back then), I always had to lead the choir in, because I was on the end of the front row. Even in High School- I was always the girl on the end.
And--get this-- I had growing pains, but not the height to show for it! Please don't get me started about volleyball. It's almost IMPOSSIBLE for the tiny girl to serve that ball over the net in gym class.
To this day, EVERY pair of pants and most blouses have to be hemmed. Kitchen counters are too high for me, so if I want to roll pie dough, I have to lean over the kitchen table. I can only reach stuff on the first or 2nd kitchen shelf, so there always needs to be a stool around.
Yet, most of us make peace, or at least some kind of truce with our bodies. My French teacher lovingly referred to me as "Ma petite." (My little one- in an affectionate way.) Dave found it darling that I was small, and the height difference has never been an issue for us. (Except he needs to walk more slowly when I'm with him. My short legs don't cover the range of distance that his do with each stride.) And, if my stool is in a different room, he can reach the platters for me off the top kitchen shelf! ��
No matter what: too tall, too short, too fat, too skinny, too old, too young: they all come with their own set of challenges. But they also come with their own set of benefits.
So yes, stand tall no matter what. I do!
Love you,
Your mom's friend, Donna
So true!
ReplyDeleteI have friends on the short end of the spectrum who wish they were tall and us tall girls are always thinking it'd be nice to knock a couple inches off. It's kind of like hair styles - girls with curly hair want the straight hair and girls with straight hair just wish theirs would hold a curl.
I learned that contentment is the only way to get over my personal insecurities and I rest in the fact that God made me the way I am so I am perfect.
Thanks for sharing!
Erin you write very well! And even though we're not perfect, we can trust that we're wonderfully made! When I need a good reminder to not focus on body insecurities (we all have them!), I pop over to 1 Samuel 16:7. Blessings to you in your pregnancy and on your upcoming motherhood! xoxo
ReplyDeleteWay to go Erin! Thank you for being brave enough to share your story. #EmpoweredWomenEmpowerWomen
ReplyDelete