Me and my Pregnant Body

Original post from Leopard Print Specs

Since being pregnant I have experienced a whole range of symptoms and side effects. There was the relentless morning sickness of my first trimester that started at around week six, and felt like it was never going to end (whoever called it morning sickness is a total dick by the way, I had it morning, noon and night). There has been the aching and forever growing boob situation (both painful and costly). Oh and let's not forget the raging hormones that left me sobbing watching an episode of 'The Golden Girls' (the one where they give a lottery winto a homeless shelter).

These are all expected and run of the mill for pregnancy and appear on most lists that guide you through the craziness of growing a baby. However, I have experienced something else of late that has been a rarity during my adult life. I've started to realise that my body is fucking amazing, and I don't really give one about how other people see it. I totally love my massive belly. Me, the girl who hid her teenage body in massive baggy band hoodies, and sobbed in her 20s in changing rooms because she felt grotesque.

Learning to Love Myself

Imagine having someone follow you around all day long telling you how crap you are. Every time you eat something they tell you you’re a pig, every time you make a small mistake they tell you you’re a giant fuck up, no matter what you do it’s wrong. That is basically how I lived my life for a long time except there weren’t two people in the scenario, it was just me.

I had this idea of perfection in my mind that I was constantly grasping at and anything that fell short of that felt like devastating failure. I hated the way I looked, I felt like I wasn’t a good enough person, I was a bad friend and a disappointing daughter, I never felt good enough at my job, my blog was rubbish, my house was mess…the list goes on.

Not surprisingly, beating myself up mentally every single day took its toll. I lacked confidence in every aspect of my life and it was making me miserable. I knew I had so many good things in my life but I couldn’t fully enjoy them because there was part of me that felt I didn’t deserve it. And eventually I cracked and suffered a really bad period of depression.

Image - Lindsay gypsydancer12 Flicker