I?ve been procrastinating signing my toddler up for parent-and-tot swim lessons because it would mean wearing a bathing suit.
There. I said it. Ugh.
Signing up for swim lessons would mean buying a new one-piece, or donning one of my many old bikinis and baring this truth to the entire aquatic centre: My post-baby tummy is, well, not pretty.
?Who cares"!? you?re shouting from your computers. And bless you for this. Because you?re right. You?re so right. Who cares" I?m a woman, I?m a mother, I?m a human being. I don?t need to look like Chrissy Teigen. NOBODY but Chrissy Teigen looks like Chrissy Teigen.
I also know?on an intellectual level, anyway?the following clichés truths: Beauty is on the inside. Beauty is subjective. Current beauty standards are unattainable. Women don?t need to ?bounce? back from pregnancy. I am perfect the way I am. I know. I know. I know.
We all know. Yet most women pick apart aspects of their bodies they wish they could change. And while I sometimes get hung up over my ?problem? areas, I mostly walk in my skin with pride. I accepted early in my 20s that I was (insert size here) and (insert shape here). And when I hit my mid-30s and my body did this amazing thing wherein it grew life, I (mostly) accepted the changes that came with pregnancy.
But try as I might, I haven?t been able to shake this nagging frustration over what?s happened to my stomach. And this has left me feeling incredibly conflicted. What kind of body-positive feminist am ...