remember those sections of style magazines that asked you to categorize your body type as “pear-shaped” “athletic” or “long and lean” and then told you which american eagle jeans would look best on you?
there were also the sections where you chose the shape of your face to see which celebrity you looked like. i used to convince myself i had a heart shaped face just so i could brag to my sisters that i looked like reese witherspoon. anyway, at this stage in my life, i have decided my body shape can be likened to that of the red m&m. short. sweet. round. with impossibly skinny ankles. my body has never done anything extraordinary. don’t get me wrong, i’m healthy! everything works as it should, and for that i am most grateful. what i mean is, beyond daily functioning, i don’t have any physical skills of great significance. i’m not fast. would 10/10 die in a zombie apocalypse. or the hunger games or, possibly, a large concert like lalapalooza. i’m not strong. the extent of my physical strength is carrying 3 bags of groceries on each arm. and i’m sure as shit not graceful. in the poise and dexterity department, i’m like a baby giraffe trying to walk for the first time. i also trip and fall down a lot. like, a lot a lot. all this to say i am not, and never have been, a particularly impressive physical specimen. what i lack in physical skill i like to think i make up for in wit and humor but to be honest, i’m pretty average. and i am 100% cool with being average. average has brought me almost 30 years with minimal bumps and bruises. not to mention i’ve avoided having to run one of those 5K races some (insane) people do on thanksgiving. i’ve never considered my body to be “a miracle.” i’ve never considered anything my body has done to be especially amazing or noteworthy. that is, until i had children. growing a human is the single craziest thing i’ve physically ever done (and i tried crossfit once!). during each of my pregnancies i found out new things about my body that i had never known before. i also threw up a lot and pooped my pants in a whole foods. but that’s a story for another day. after doug was born, i was a hot mess. physically healing from a c-section, attempting to nurse a baby who straight up did not like my boobs and not sleeping a wink. it was a whole thing. my body didn’t feel strong or amazing, it felt broken and leaky and weak. and that took a toll, mentally. after charlotte was born, i prepared myself for a lot of the same physical things i had previously experienced with doug. but it was different the second time around. it was like my body knew what was coming. my milk came in without issue and charlotte took to nursing like a champion. physically, i healed quickly, and without issue. for the first time, i felt like my body knew what it was doing. and it was doing a good job! better than average! huzzah! now, don’t misunderstand me: my body didn’t do anything wrong when doug was born. and just because i wasn’t able to feed doug exclusively with my physical body does not mean i was inept or broken. i simply wasn’t in a place, physically, where i could provide for him in that way. that doesn’t make me a bad mom. that makes me a regular human. and i have no way of knowing if my body will recover as well as it did with charlotte if we choose to (lord willing) have another baby. but for now, i’m in a groove. and it’s a nice groove! i’m still not physically strong. or fast. or graceful. i don't know if my face is heart shaped like reese witherspoon’s or if i’m more pear or full shaped. i do know there are 0 pairs of american eagle jeans that would look flattering on me. and that’s ok. when i look in the mirror, i don’t always like what my reflection shows. but i don’t feel average. my body cares for itself and for my family. i sustain another person with something i make all on my own. that’s special. and i may look more like the red m&m than a pear or a string bean, but it seems to me, in the end, we all end up looking like food anyway. i am thankful to be healthy and in a position to nourish my body. i want my kids to grow up and love themselves and be grateful for the bodies they have, so i need to model that kind of self-appreciation. whatever your body shape may be and whether your face is heart-shaped like reese witherspoon’s or not, i hope you know that you have value and significance. if nothing else, your body has brought you to where you are right now. laughing about the thought of me wearing american eagle jeans. or pooping my pants in whole foods. and that’s something! you’re something! something special. and don’t you forget it.
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