Late one night, I found myself searching for “Jennifer Aniston plastic surgery.” Having just binge-watched a series featuring her, I marveled at her stunning appearance and toned physique. Her slim figure seemed enviable for someone half her age.
But why was I diving into celebrity gossip? Was I trying to uncover whether Jen had gone under the knife or if natural beauty was a mere illusion? The answer eluded me.
What I did know for certain was that my body underwent a significant transformation after I became a mother. I had always maintained a slim figure and never paid much attention to my weight. We don’t typically measure our height with a yardstick, so stepping on a scale regularly felt just as foreign to me.
After my son was born, the weight I gained during pregnancy quickly disappeared. In photos taken just 12 days after his birth, I looked like my pre-pregnancy self. I couldn’t understand why other mothers struggled with lingering “baby weight.” I thought it was simply the weight of the baby and the necessary surroundings.
To my surprise, the weight kept decreasing. Stress, breastfeeding, and a complete lack of self-care caused my weight to plummet to a concerning 95 pounds before I even realized it. Eventually, I began adding coconut oil to my oatmeal and indulging in peanut butter fudge milkshakes, which brought my weight back to a more normal level, and I stopped paying attention again.
About two and a half years later, three significant changes occurred simultaneously: I stopped breastfeeding, started two new medications for postpartum issues, and gained around 15 pounds. For the first time, I experienced the sensation of gaining weight seemingly out of nowhere.
I tried to reassure myself that weight is just a number and doesn’t define who I am, but deep down, I didn’t believe it. Over time, I had internalized my identity as a thin person in ways that were both profound and unhealthy without recognizing it.
In my thinner days, I had identified spots to hide in case of an emergency in my office and even joked about attending overbooked meetings by saying, “I won’t take up much space.” The underlying message was clear: “I’m thin, so I deserve to belong.”
As I navigated my child’s toddler years, I faced a new reality with my body. The ups and downs of weight had left me feeling soft and deflated. My previous jokes felt empty, and my once-favorite clothes no longer fit.
I realized that I needed a healthier perspective; searching for Jennifer Aniston wouldn’t provide the insight I craved. A positive attitude was crucial because there was another body I cared deeply about: my child’s. At three years old, she twirls, somersaults, and jumps with unrestrained joy, fully embracing her body. I want her to grow up loving herself, regardless of shape, which means I must model that love for her.
My post-pregnancy body raised a challenging question, and my daughter offered the healing answer. How could I love a body I felt was damaged? By viewing it through my daughter’s eyes. My hand becomes a resting place for her cheek during long car rides, my legs form a slide from the chair to the ground, and my lap transforms into her safest haven.
Most importantly, my body brought this vibrant child into the world. It nurtured her, kept her safe, and provided for her during the first nine months and beyond.
As I swing her around and turn her upside down during playtime, her laughter reassures me that we are both beautifully made just as we are.
This article was originally published on Sep. 26, 2019.
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In summary, my journey into motherhood opened my eyes to the unhealthy biases I carried about weight and body image. Embracing my new reality means focusing on self-love and teaching my daughter to appreciate her body, too.
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