There are things about me that I love and there are things I realise make me who I am, whether I like it or not. Like the fact even though I tried not to let it, hurtful comments are just that. Hurtful. I’m a sensitive being, I avoid conflict and sometime this can leave me in the position of a doormat. I’m working on being bolder, it just doesn’t come naturally. When I stood in the change room with my saggy maternity bra and full brief knickers (that I can’t seem to part with) I didn’t notice my stretch marked tummy or my chunky thighs. All I could see were bingo wings. Read Katie’s post as she has a way with words on the subject. Usually I have Aidan around me cooing and being adorable so I don’t notice the presence of mirrors. All I see is his shining eyes that are every so easy to get lost in. As you can imagine it’s easy to be distracted but as I stood there alone in my pasty glory under those unforgiving lights I remembered that I needed more than a packet or two of TimTams to make me feel like the lovely woman I deserve to be. I needed a make over. STAT.
Mum and I paced the shopping center looking for something pretty to wear for when Steve and I went out for dinner last week. Every place I went to had everything and nothing all at once. Perfect fit, but sleeveless. Perfect colour, but shaped like a tent. Made my boobs look great and my butt look huge. I couldn’t win and after 3 hours I wanted to cry, but instead I pushed the stroller with vigor… straight to the car. The date was meant to be fun and I just went and put all that unnecessary stress on myself. I ended up wearing a black maternity dress (which I already owned) with lots of cleavage. Steve gave the thumbs up but then again I think he was just pleased to see me in heels with some lippy on rather than my PJs. You can understand why I didn’t post photos. Dinner ended up being really great and I’m so thankful that Mum looked after Aidan for the evening. We laughed, ate Mexican and Steve opened the car door for me. I would have been happy eating Hungry Jacks whilst going through the car wash… we were together.
We haven’t been “together” as much as either of us would like. Aidan is a great sleeper (touch wood) but our individual sleep patterns don’t leave much room for “togetherness”. We’re lucky to get “together” once a week. This was something I was afraid of when I was pregnant, that our alone time would be put into the unimportant pile. I’m being proactive but my physical mindset isn’t helping matters. I simply want to not just feel beautiful when I’m with him, but be beautiful. I want my reality to match my self image. The person I am isn’t the person I see in the mirror… if that makes sense.
There are things I can do short term to make myself feel better. Get my hair done (my favourite pick me up), wax/tint my peepers, get a pedicure, have a massage… but the only thing that will really work, long term, is to commit to losing kilos. I can’t say that I was never skinny because I was 10 years ago. I can’t say that I’d never be that skinny again because I could… if I committed myself. I quit drinking Cola and it’s been 2 years since I had any and it was hard. I used to drink it everyday and it was hard. So I thought if I’d given up this one big crutch I was set, I wouldn’t have to make any more sacrifices, I’d loose the weight and over time I did… but then came baby.
I’m walking almost everyday but to be honest most of my time is spent sitting in my glider, breast feeding and eating. Aidan has a great routine going at the moment (touch wood) so I’m thinking of joining Curves or my YMCA. I think I need it. I think we’d all benefit. Steve’s supportive. He’s really getting into cycling and just bought his first sexy spandex gear, I however am not that game. Walking, swimming and riding my bike to the gym is enough right now.
Last week I emptied my entire wardrobe. I was tired of thinking of an outfit, trying it on and not have it look like it was supposed to… like it used to, or it didn’t work for breastfeeding. It was depressive and fashion is meant to be fun. I had my Mum sit on the bed with Aidan and critically judge every item of clothing I owned. If it didnt work, it would never work and had to go. Those smaller jeans I held onto… gone. The top I used to wear out clubbing when I was 18… gone. 1/4 of my wardrobe remained and I felt refreshed. Time for a new look. I gave the clothes to a group of friends to raid and any remains went to charity.
Now my wardrobe is almost bare but what’s in it works. Organising my wardrobe was easy… now I have to manage my weight. I’m not counting points and I’m not starving myself, I’m just simply going to commit to offering myself better choices and not treat food as a reward, but as fuel. Aidan is going to benefit greatly and is my true inspiration. Now all I have to do is lick the remains of that last TimTam from my fingers and do it.