I remember the day that I first became self conscious of my body shape. I was a gawky, awkward teenage girl - around the age of 13. I saw my belly sticking out a little bit in a photo, and suddenly realised I didn’t look like the photos I saw in Cosmopolitan magazine.

It was strange because until then it was like I never saw these things as something that defined me, but from that moment on something switched inside of my head and I suddenly became hyper aware of them.

Self worth and ‘looks’…

More and more I noticed other people’s shapes and I compared my body to theirs. As I grew older, my shape changed of course. My breasts grew, my shape changed, I started to get ‘noticed’ by others - particularly those of the opposite sex - and appearance became something that determined my self worth.

I distinctly remember having a crush on a boy when I was around 15. He never noticed me, never looked at me even, always choosing the girls I saw as pretty and ‘perfect’, and then at the end of one summer I remember someone telling me that I had blossomed - using the anecdote of the ‘ugly duckling turning into a swan’, I knew that my body had changed, my face had matured, I felt more ‘grown up’, and low and behold suddenly this boy paid an interest in me. Of course it gave me a huge boost in confidence on a surface level - but I also see how that played it’s own part in fueling the part of me that based my worth on how ‘pretty’ other people thought I was.

Years of unlearning

Over the years my confidence became more and more wrapped up in my looks. It was often dependent on how desirable I felt to men. If someone paid me attention, or if I was being constantly celebrated for my looks then I felt good. The moment I wasn’t being showered with compliments or feeling desired then my insecurities would take over and send me on a spiral of self loathing.

I had a picture in my head of what I was supposed to look like and for a while, in my teens, I did fit that ‘picture’… I had a flat stomach, my legs were toned, my breasts were pert… all the things we are ‘supposed’ to be. But when that changed - which it inevitably does - I found myself in a pattern of negativity and self hatred. I constantly looked at old photos and longed for the way I looked - looking constantly for ways to ‘get back there’, questioning what I had done wrong to now look so different, and blaming my body for being against me.

I found myself craving validation from others about the way I looked as if that proved I was worthy of taking up space. Ironically when I did receive complements I didn’t actually allow myself to believe them and would often dismiss them or simply not fully hear them - it was like my sub conscious blocked them out. The more and more I spent time in this space, the more I found myself feeling that unless I looked a certain way nobody would see me as interesting or want to talk to me.

The definition of beautiful

The young woman’s body is what is depicted in most films and magazines as the definition of beauty. The unmarked, toned skin, the defined bone structure, slender arms and long shapely legs, breasts that don’t sag or bounce and a belly without rolls or overhang.

Years and years of seeing this manufactured ‘magazine/film’ body as ‘normal’ sinks deep into our mind. With nudity being so frowned upon or ‘taboo’ then these images of the human body are all that we have to compare ourselves to. It depicts a very warped picture of what a woman really looks like.

Making peace with my body

I spent the entire of my twenties and early thirties trying to learn to love and make peace with my body as it was. To come to a place of acceptance as my body evolved and aged.

Before I fell pregnant I had come to what I felt was a good level of acceptance within my body. I was far from the days of self loathing and hatred, but I still had wobbly moments and times of wanting to look different. I felt more connected to myself than I had in years and actually I could truly see myself as so much more than my appearance. I was more connected to my sexuality, to my femininity, to my strength and power as a woman.

And then I fell pregnant and I honestly never loved my body more than the 41 (and a bit) weeks I was carrying Sophia. (once I got over the nausea anyway!). Watching it grow and change for me was such a beautiful process and it felt like finally my body was looking like it ‘was supposed to’.

I felt beautiful, confident, proud and so loving of the body that had co-created this life.

The postpartum ‘bounce back’

Now, as a 36 (nearly 37) year old woman who has recently had a baby I am once again faced with another layer of acceptance all over again.

At first I was in awe of how rapidly my body started to lose the ‘baby weight’, and how my belly shrunk daily. Many people commented on how quickly I had shed this weight, how ‘tiny’ I was now, how ‘amazing’ I looked. I know all with great intention, but it started to feed that part of me - the inner teenager - once again with words of affirmation around my appearance. A part of me was flattered and thrived on these words, but there was a part of me that knew that actually they were potentially fueling the unhealthy attachment to appearance that was buried deep within.

I think a part of me believed that, all the time I had ‘just’ had a baby society accepted me with my wobbly tummy, my stretch marks and my less perky breasts.

But, now that I am nearly 8 months postpartum, things have shifted once more. Things are regulating in my body and my new ‘normal’ is challenging me. I don’t have a flat stomach anymore, and I suspect that I never will do - there is skin that stretched, marks that will never fade, and a little overhang that I find myself ‘hiding away’ beneath high-waisted yoga pants or jeans.

On one hand I adore this - it is the marks and reminder of what an incredible transformation I have been through and just how amazing my body is. But there is still a part of me that has found it really hard to accept.

I recently found myself back in that space of comparing. Obsessing over my belly, checking my reflection constantly to see how big I looked. I hated to admit it - because it felt on some level like I had failed - but there is still a part of me that believes in order to be seen as beautiful, to be desirable, I need to be small and slender and in the body of a young teenage girl.

When I read those words back to myself I realise just how f*cked up that is. How totally wrong it is that we live in a society that, for the most part, doesn’t celebrate or honour the different shapes and sizes of body and the changing, ageing female form.

A call for inner healing

Of course our body changes every single day, and if we are placing our worth on an out of date picture - that in total brutal honesty we will never again be - then we are setting ourselves up for pain and suffering.

Throughout our lives we are given opportunities to heal and nurture the parts of us that allow us to come closer and closer to our original essence - the true, pure beings we were when we were born - and so I see this resurfacing as an opportunity to come into deeper connection with myself.

But how?

The first step is awareness. Awareness that this is based on an outdated story that has been on repeat throughout my life. A pattern that I can choose to look at, or choose to ignore.

Medicine question: Can I remember when I first noticed this pattern arising? When did I start believing this ‘story’ to be true?

The next step is acceptance. Accepting that I am where I am right now. Accepting that I am not, and never will be the finished article and that this journey is an unfolding process. This can be the most challenging step and there have been times in my life when I have point blank refused to accept my body the way it is. Sometimes the acceptance is in simply accepting that right now, I cannot accept it.

Medicine question: Is there any part of me that simply accept where I am right now? Even a teeny tiny part? I don’t have to love it, or be happy or grateful for it, but simply acknowledge and accept that this is the present moment reality?

Then comes the empowerment piece. Once acceptance has been reached, which may take some time, it is time to find a part of myself that believes, and is ready, for a new story.

Medicine question: What part of me do I feel is strong and capable and KNOWS that I am beautiful? What part of me truly believes that beauty is beyond the surface?

Next it is time to nurture. Once connected to this empowered part within it is time to cultivate a sense of confidence and compassion from this place, instead of the disempowered place.

Medicine question: What does the scared part of me need to receive in order to feel more confident and accepting? How can the empowered part of me support the frightened inner teenage girl? 

Now it is time to write a new story. It is never too late to tell ourselves what we needed to hear, but this time from the most powerful source - from ourselves.

Medicine question: Can you speak to the version of you that first experienced this and tell them what they needed to hear then? Can you re-write the narrative from your empowered place?

And finally it is time to embody the empowered feelings. It is all very well using words and writing things down, but for me the true healing is through the body, through movement. I have begun running again. To focus on building strength and fitness in a way that feels gentle but also empowering. Each time I run a bit further, feel a bit stronger, or even just complete a challenging hill - I am embodying this empowered piece of me a little bit more.

Medicine question: What do I want to feel? What forms of movement make me feel like this? How can I bring this into my life physically?

Here are some of the words I so desperately want to share with my younger self…

'My darling wonderful girl, you have the most beautiful soul - your eyes and your smile show that, not your body shape. People will fall in love with your energy, your transmission - not your size or your appearance. Your daughter will adore you for the way you wrap your arms around her and make her feel safe - not because you fit into size 10 jeans. You are worthy of everything you dream of because of your heart and your soul, because of the way you love - not because of the way you look. My darling girl I love you just the way you are, the way you are today, and the way you are tomorrow. The way you are next year, and the way you are in twenty years.’

And so day by day, moment by moment, I am relearning how to accept my ever-changing body. The body that birthed my baby girl. The body that breathes for me. The body that feels pleasure and pain. The body that houses my tender heart and my sacred womb space.

The body that grounds and connects me to this messy and chaotic human experience.

DO THE WORDS IN THIS BLOG RESONATE WITH YOU IN ANY WAY? HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT YOUR CHANGING BODY? WHAT WOULD YOU SAY TO YOUR YOUNGER SELF? COMMENT BELOW OR EMAIL ME HERE IF YOU FEEL CALLED TO SHARE.